Turners war, p.1
Turner's War, page 1
Turner’s War
The Savage Kings Series, Book 3
Jade Royal
Copyright © 2022 by Jade Royal
www.authorjaderoyal.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Playlist Turner’s War
About the Content Inside
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Ward of the State
The Wager
Savage Kings Empire
Acknowledgments
About the Author
New Releases
Also by Jade Royal
I always use music to fuel my stories. Because the list keeps growing, I’m going to give you the link to my Spotify playlist to listen to. Usually, I list the titles of the songs in a playlist but thought that giving you the direct link would be better. Don’t worry about whether you have Spotify or not. They’ll still let you listen to the tunes at no cost as long as you follow the link.
You can always send me a email at jaderoyalnews@gmail.com to let me know what you think. Enjoy the playlist as you read, I know I have a few times.
Cheers,
Jade Royal
He's a Savage...
Turner
Ashley is gone. I have to figure out how that happened before my chances of getting her safe and sound are obsolete forever. How do I know? Some would call what I do stalking. I prefer to call it checking in on her. Never mind that I know her schedule like the back of my hand and that I’m addicted to her.
Once I find out who has her, someone will regret the demise of my victory, and I will never let her out of my sight again. Second chances are a gift no matter how the package appears.
* * *
Ashley
Looking for my brother, I got myself into a situation that I am not optimistic I will live through. Nobody knows where I am, and it could be weeks before anybody figures it out. No other family, doubts of being discovered, and dying hope is all I have left. A lifeline is not in my future, and now I regret how I treated Turner the last time I saw him.
Trigger Warning
Content might include graphic references to topics such as sexual abuse, self-harm, violence, eating disorders, and so on, and can take the form of text.
If you or someone you know is in crisis, please call 911, go to the nearest emergency room, call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to reach a 24-hour crisis center, or text MHA to 741741 at the Crisis Text Line. You can also call 1-800-985-5990 or text “TalkWithUs” to 66746 at the SAMHSA Disaster Distress Helpline.
Turner
“What do you mean, she’s still not there?” I slammed down my keys on my kitchen counter.
Malcolm was saying something in my ear on the phone, but all I could see was red. Words coming from his mouth made no sense. Ashley hadn’t been home in two nights. It was unlike her to be missing. She had always kept a straightforward routine. I have been following her for two years, so I knew what time she pulled into her driveway and that she went grocery shopping on Wednesdays right after work. Even when she spontaneously went to lunch with her friends, it was still every other week. No matter where she went, she always came home.
There had been no vacation planned. She hadn’t touched her credit cards, and I knew she didn’t carry loads of cash on her, because I paid all her bills, so she saved pretty much everything she earned. I didn’t know if that was more about making sure she had money if I ever stopped paying things or if she was thrifty.
What I knew was that she was MIA. I’d been at dinner celebrating Jr.’s return and unable to do my nightly check-in on her. Every night at seven, I drove past her house to ensure everything was fine. I did the same thing at seven a.m., too.
No, I wasn’t stalking her. She was the widow of my best friend, and I’d promised to look after her. She wouldn’t take cash directly from me. In fact, she’d asked me not to come over to her place because I reminded her too much of Scottie. I gave her space, but I was keeping my promise. Right now, I didn’t care about her requests. I needed to find her to confirm that she was okay.
None of this had anything to do with me being in love with her or the relationship that existed before she was with Scottie. This had everything to do with the promises that I made to both of them.
Until I did that, nobody was safe. I’d leave no stone unturned as I looked for her. Come hell or high water; I was going to find her. And if anybody had touched her, they could kiss their death wish that they’d already signed.
A week before the disappearance…
Ashley
I knew I enabled my twin brother Anthony, but it was because I felt guilty. When we were teenagers, we smoked weed like a lot of our friends. It was cool and gave us a sense of purpose. Plus, it made my horrid cramps disappear without a fight. One serious dilemma made me give it up and sent Anthony spiraling. He was with friends at a party where someone laced a blunt without his knowledge. A few of them walked away more educated about never letting someone else roll up your weed, especially if you aren't watching. The rest fell prey and looked for more of what gave them that high they'd never had before the cocaine. That's the ship my brother rode.
He'd come home that night warning me of the dangers. I never smoked again, terrified of the effects he described. When I walked into his room to see him snorting lines of it, I told our parents, and they got him the help immediately. I lost track of the number of times he went to rehab and promised to get better. He never did.
I turned him on to weed, exposing him to that threat. So now, I made sure that he came to my house and checked in every few days. He was homeless, but the part that scared me the most were his benders. He zoned out for days and did not know what was happening when he returned.
I hadn’t seen him in weeks, so I was out checking his normal route to make sure he was still alive. No hospitals had anybody with his description, giving some relief, but I didn’t know for sure if he was okay. That's why I was walking the streets of downtown Santa-Rosa.
One of his friends was sitting inside an old grocery cart filled with clothes. At first, I didn't recognize him, but I knew it was the right guy when he began singing Purple Rain.
"Bobby?" I approached carefully. He had schizophrenia, and sudden movements made him spaz. He jumped when he saw me but relaxed a little, recognizing who I was.
"Tony’s sister?” He asked while picking at his fingers.
“Yes, have you seen him?” I didn’t get any closer to him. The sidewalk separated us, and I stood in the street.
“He was down on Lynn Street. I don’t think you should go down there, though.” He wiped his nose, and blood trailed his fingertips. He’d picked them until they bled. I stepped closer, but he stilled. “He’s been down there a lot lately, not coming up here for nothing. You shouldn’t keep trying to help him when he’s like this. He don’t care about nobody but himself. Not even you, princess.”
I swallowed back my words. It didn’t matter what I said to him. It never did. He always thought he knew Anthony best. Whether or not he did, I couldn’t say, but they’d been friends for a long time. Bobby always tried to push me away from Anthony. I didn’t know if that was for my sake or his. I just hoped that he wouldn’t lie to me about where he was.
Lynn Street was bad, and if I went there, it needed to be during the day and with my phone at the very least. If he was spending all his time down there, he was not only on a bender, but he was hurting badly for drugs and money. He’d always avoided going there and made me promise never to go there looking for him. The sun was setting, and even though I was eager to find him, I wasn’t looking tonight. Tomorrow was a different day.
“Thank you, Bobby.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out twenty bucks, but he shook his head before I could even walk toward him.
“I don’t need no spies in my pocket. You don’t either.” He hopped out of the cart easily and pushed it along as he walked down the street.
“I need a drink.” I sighed, talking to myself as I walked back to my car.
I hated looking for Anthony because the voyage was always tough on me. All the places I could find him in were filthy and filled with people who weren’t taking care of themselves. It wasn’t always physically. Mental health was an issue down here, too. My head was pounding from the highs and lows I experienced on these hunts. Hoping I found him alive started off strong, but then, as time passed, I wondered if I’d find him at all.
I parked my car in the safer part of the area, tucked away and out of sight. When I got to it, I jumped in and pulled off immediately. My skin crawled from the grime I always felt when I was completing searches. It didn’t wash away easily since it was all in my head. I had touched nothing for me to feel as dirty as I did, but it was still there.
When I arrived home, Isaac was sitting on my steps. It’d been a while since I’d seen him, but not much had changed. He was still bad for me, and every time he was near, he reminded me of everything I couldn’t ever have. Him, my deceased husband, a normal life, and the child I’d lost. Too m uch of it involved him, and his face brought it all back to me.
“It’s been a while since you’ve shown your face here. What are you doing here? ” I asked, climbing the steps to my front door, passing him as I went.
“I just wanted to see you and find out how you’re doing. As you said, it’s been a while.” His voice grew louder as he approached.
“Tired of paying my bills yet?” I looked over my shoulder, and he smiled to himself.
“No. You know why I do it.”
“Because Scottie asked you to. Well, Scottie wasn’t the boss of me, and he still isn’t.” I opened the door and walked inside to get Felix, my new puppy. He was being crate trained, but I’d been gone long enough for him to have to use the restroom.
I let him out, and he beat me to the front door, pushing the screen door open for him to rush to the yard. I got to the front porch just in time to see the relieved look on his face as he let go of everything he was holding in his bladder.
“Nobody needs to be your boss to make sure you’re well taken care of. You focus on that little guy, and I’ll worry about the rest. Are you good?” He put his hand in his pocket. I laughed because he knew I’d never take what was in it. I never did.
“I am. Isaac, why-”
“Turner. Nobody calls me Isaac but you.”
“I still think Turner is stupid. All because they teased you and called you Ike Turner.”
“I like Turner, so I kept it.” He shrugged. "Besides, I'm not abusive."
“Still stupid."
"Whatever." Felix ran up to him, and he squatted down to rub him. After he gave him a good scratching all over, Felix was in love.
I groaned at the irony of the situation. I'd been much the same way with Isaac. Once he touched you, it branded you in a way that you craved.
“When you and Felix finish becoming bros, bring him inside,” I said over my shoulder as I left the two of them on the porch. I went straight for a wine bottle to escape my thoughts and concerns about Anthony.
I poured myself a glass and didn’t bother going for a sip. Instead, I downed the entire glass like it was water and filled it again. I rushed the high that was undoubtedly coming by downing the second glass almost as quickly. My head swam, but I didn’t care.
I hated how obligated I felt to Anthony. It made me do things I didn’t want to, and instead of being angry with him about putting me into this situation of having to choose between his safety and mine, I blamed myself for not being a good enough sister. Why wasn’t I enough to fight his addiction for? Our parents were long gone, dead, and had left me to suffer Anthony’s ploys alone. Why wasn’t our bond stronger so that he could feel the pain he put me through every time this happened?
My feelings disappeared after the third glass, leaving me swimming in a haze. I went for more wine, but the bottle only left me with a little in my glass. Not even enough to fill my mouth. I drank it anyway. I had another bottle around here somewhere, but when I turned to see Isaac watching this pathetic event I was putting on, I burst into a fit of giggles.
“Want to talk about it?” He asked, sitting down at the nearby dining table.
“We should fuck.” I blurted.
“While that sounds appealing, you and I don’t do that anymore.” He leaned back, waiting for me to say something different.
“We could fix that. Change it for the better. You know, I remember how well we did that together. Why’d we ever stop?” I leaned on the counter behind me, unsure if I could make it to sit in a chair.
“Because you started dating my best friend.”
“In my defense, I didn’t know you two were friends. After I had broken up with you, I thought I was leaving you behind. There isn’t really a way to do that, is there? You just… You consume everything you touch.” I slid along the counter, using it for support. “Until it can’t function without you.” When I was near the closest chair, I reached for it and made my way over to Isaac. “I married Scottie, but my heart never left you.”
His eyebrow lifted, questioning me. “That’s the first time I’m hearing of that. I want to believe you, but it took you no time to walk down that aisle. You had known him for a few months before you became Mrs. Scottie Frey.”
“True. I was too busy rushing away from you to see it. I loved my husband differently than I loved you. He was logical and left the mystery outside this house. He was open and honest in a way that you never were.”
“And that’s what you needed.” He sat up straighter in his seat, a sign of discomfort.
“You never fought for me.” I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You just let me go.”
“Ashley, you hated what I did. It’s not something I could walk away from. Being a Savage King isn’t something you wake up and decide you won't do anymore. Like it or not, I was born into a role that will haunt me forever. I can’t just walk around like it can’t touch me whenever it wants. I embraced it and made it fit me. It wasn’t enough that I promised I’d keep it away from you.”
“And your addiction?” I looked into his eyes and got lost in what used to be us. The dark, beautiful brown eyes he had—there was so much more to him than he’d ever admit—it showed in the depths of them. Pain. Trauma. There was a story underneath the layers of him, and I only knew part of it.
“Once an addict… I don’t mess around with drugs anymore in any capacity. I do what I’m good at it.”
“The computer stuff.”
“If you want to call it that, yeah. You’re drunk, baby.” But his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer.
“You called me baby.” I smiled like a schoolgirl. It was the way he said it. Something I was always weak for. It wasn’t just something he threw around like a generalized term. His voice tenderized the word, and I swallowed the feelings it created like a hungry fool. It came out sweet and a little rough, just like him.
“Yeah, I did. Won’t happen again.” He leaned away from me.
“I didn’t say all that.” I pulled him back to me. “Why didn’t you tell me about Scottie? The real reason. He worked for you, but you knew how I felt.”
“You deserved happiness. After I made him promise not to let the shit he got into effect you, I let it be. I couldn’t offer the same autonomy in our relationship that he could. I knew the man he was, and he proved me right. He loved you with everything he was. He gave you that life you wanted. I couldn’t do that.”
“So you did it for me?” I held my breath, wanting him to say it.
His eyes lit up, and I knew he understood exactly what I wanted him to say. The truth. Plain and simple, no excuse. That was the point of this entire conversation. “Yeah, I did it for you, baby.”
I rushed toward his mouth, claiming it as mine for just a moment. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it? I was strong enough to take this bit of joy for myself to erase all of today. I could’ve handled it if he hadn’t picked me up easily and walked up the steps to my bedroom. He knew the way. He’d helped bring in all the furniture. Even helped Scottie do a few things around the house.
This time was different. He was here because I’d invited him inside, almost like I knew he was going to heal me. He knew how. If I ever fell apart, he could put me together better than anybody else could. It’s what made him so lethal. Isaac was a perfectionist. He studied things until he could put them back together without the flaws. Upgrade it to top performance, making it do things nobody ever thought it could do. He saw potential in places others wrote off as flaws.
Inside my room, he held me up by my thighs, His favorite part of me. Then he laid me on the bed, spread my legs, and climbed between them. He hovered over me, making me come to him for more of his mouth. I was wet and ready for him. All I needed was to feel him inside me again. I unzipped my hoodie, removed it, and took my arms out of my t-shirt. I did it all without ever leaving his lips. God, did I miss them? They were full and captured mine completely, a signature Isaac trait.
