Savage: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance Read Online Free Page A

hallway, cells line the walls. Proper cells, with bars preventing the inmates from escaping. No windows, no privacy. Most of them have a toilet and a bed. The bad ones just have a cot and a bucket in the corner. The stench down here is horrible, and I cover my nose to stop myself from breathing it in.
    The cells are all empty. Not a prisoner in sight.
    Finally, I start hearing noises a little way ahead of us, and it makes my heart constrict in my chest. Now, I’m getting scared. I’m wondering why Cobb forced me down into his dungeons, and my fluttering heart decides he definitely does not have good intentions.
    Then again, does he ever?
    “Why are we here?” I ask, hating how I stutter a little when I say the words.
    I gulp down the lump in my throat and wait for Cobb’s answer, but all he does is look at me over his shoulder and grin that smirk I’ll wipe off his face one day.
    A guard shoves me forward, and the farther we walk, the louder the noises get. My heart is threatening to beat right out of my chest by the time we reach our destination. As soon as I see what awaits us there, I feel anxiety pooling in the pit of my stomach, thick like tar and weighing my whole body down.
    “W-what’s this?” I stammer, my eyes traveling over the rows of unfamiliar faces.
    There are men standing against the walls, their eyes trained on me. There is no other way to describe them but as soldiers. They are all muscular, dangerous, ripped as hell. And all of them are looking at me like I’m something delicious they’re about to devour for dessert.
    The chatter quickly dies down as Cobb walks into the center of the room. The guards we came with surround me, close enough to make me feel claustrophobic, and far apart enough to make sure all the soldiers’ attentions are fixed on me. I retreat, taking a few steps back. I don’t feel safe here.
    My back bumps into the rock hard body of a guard, and I look over my shoulder, feeling frightened. The guard doesn’t move, but he doesn’t look at me either. He just stares ahead like he’s a freaking statue.
    Wilson must run a tight ship.
    “What’s this, Wilson?” I repeat, my voice shaky and scared. It sounds so small, the echo barely there in this horrible place. “What’s happening?”
    “Welcome to the Dungeons, sweet thing,” Wilson tells me with a grin.
    I feel like a trapped animal, glancing around to try and figure a way out of this place.
    “You’re going to love it here.”
    He walks up to the row of men lined up in front of the wall, stating their names as he pokes them between the ribs. I see several guys snarling at him, barely able to hold back their rage as he pokes them like that. But I also notice none of them make a move to stop him from doing it.
    My eyes wander down the line of soldiers as Wilson tells me their names.
    Snake.
    Monster.
    Killer.
    Their names ring true in my head as I picture all the ways they could hurt someone. I hope that isn’t what I’m here for, but between their hungry eyes and Wilson’s self-assured gaze I’m already certain I’m not going to like this one way or another.
    I focus on the faces of the men. They all look the same to me. Close-cropped hair, strong, almost grotesquely muscular bodies. Their eyes are cold and lifeless. They all look the same for me.
    All their gazes are hungry, desperate and - the worst of them all - careless. They don’t give a shit about what happens down here. They have other things to worry about.
    And then finally, I come to a stop.
    There is a pair of eyes that stands out.
    Not because it isn’t hungry.
    Not because it doesn’t look like he’s going to spring out and savagely bite into my skin at any given moment.
    No. There is something else in his eyes, but it’s not compassion, or concern. There is pain.
    And that is something I’ve become very familiar with in the past week or so.
    I recognize it. I live it. I feel it.
    I drink his eyes in. Dark and stormy, grey and blue. Dangerous