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It’s time for another serial story told flash fiction style. This one’s a contemporary romance between two emotionally damaged characters.

Savage Charm

(Part 12)


Nightfall finally arrived and with it a semblance of peace. Margaux passed out hours ago after sucking my dick along with a half a bottle of gin. The woman was insatiable. If circumstances were different… If we had met long before I encountered Peyton, maybe…

Yeah, right.

I’d always been a good judge of character, and something told me that Margaux was always the manipulative little bitch. Not the type of woman I’d want in my life. No matter how much she resembled her cousin, she wasn’t Peyton. The fact that Margaux used my feelings against me pissed me off. My hands fisted as I thought about the ways I could make the woman suffer my wrath.

Sadly, I had not time to contemplate what I’d really like to do with her—put a slug between her big brown eyes and leave her in a ditch. I had to get answers and find someone to remove this shit out of my neck.

It was a helluva risk waiting for Deidrick Hines, but I didn’t have a lot of options. I watched the door of BlackJack’s swing open and shut so many times my eyes crossed. Finally, the tall blond stumbled out of the bar. As usual, the biker wore his kut, ripped jeans, and boots. His stringy hair and scraggly beard desperately needed a trim. He kissed a buxom brunette, slapped her generous ass, and he ambled over to his bike.

No time like the present.

Closing the door of the rented piece of shit Margaux got me, I ran across the street just as Deidrick cranked the motor.

“Rick,” I shouted.

Instinctively, his hand went for his gun tucked in a holster beneath the kut. “Who the fuck are you?”

My eyes bounced around the area. No way in hell would I risk saying my name in the open. I settled for revealing the one thing I knew no one else did—Deidrick’s middle name. “The only person who knows you as Oliver.”

Deidrick lowered his weapon as his mouth opened. “Holy shit! What the hell?” He shut off the engine and removed his helmet. “Dash?”

“In the flesh, brother.” I stopped beside him. “I need your help.”

“We need to talk, but not out here.”

“We’ll talk later. You still have a contact at the hospital?”

“Yeah. Whatcha need?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “A fucking miracle.”

It was dangerous discussing it out in public, but the sooner I got the device out of my neck, the sooner I could dump Margaux. So I explained my predicament to Deidrick. After I was finished, he let out a low whistle.

“Damn, man. You sure can get into some fucked up shit. I’d tell you to come back to my place, but that bitch would probably push the button if you didn’t show up.” Deidrick ran a grubby hand over his face. “Go back to where you’re staying. I’ll make some phone calls. We’ll get that shit out tomorrow. You still got my number?”


“Ditch the broad tomorrow and then call me. I’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Deidrick put the helmet back on. “But when that shit is out, we’re talking. I need to know where you’ve been.”

For the first time in a long time, I let a smile slide over my face. “If I do that, I’ll have to kill you.”

I'll Have To Kill You


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