Page 5

FIVE

SAVANNAH

I WAS NOT expecting this to be fun. I also wasn’t expecting it to be so easy to spend time with Zeke. He’s so big and so intimidating looking, I thought I’d dissolve into a melted puddle of fear every time he put that assessing stare on me.

Instead, I’m clinging to his back like a koala, laughing like a lunatic as he stands there trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament.

I’m not stupid. I know he could easily get free. But I also know he would never do it in a way that might hurt me. Because this giant, scary, deadly man’s primary focus is keeping me safe.

And it’s gone straight to my head.

Zeke turns, the movement easy and graceful, even with my added weight on his back. He scans the space then tips his head my way, angling a brow. “You’re not making this easy on me, you know that, right?”

Pride tightens my chest. I really thought I’d suck at this. That he would be ripping his hair out at my helplessness and unable to give me what I so desperately want.

Freedom.

But I can already feel it creeping under my skin. Sliding through my veins. Promising me the end is in sight.

And so I keep laughing as he once again walks us to the pile of mats at the back of the room. But instead of trying to tickle me free again, he stands there, hands on his hips, staring down at the stack.

“Got any ideas?” I’m taunting a mercenary. Fearlessly. Completely confident in my safety. And it’s liberating. It lightens the darkness that’s been weighing me down for over a year.

“A few.” Zeke’s mouth sets into a hard line. “None that will work.”

“Why not?” I’m a little full of myself, but I’m not an idiot. “You do things like this all the time.”

“I can’t do what I would normally do.” He seems perplexed. “So I’ve got to be creative.”

The word pokes at a spot inside me. One I thought might be dead after… everything. What happened made it nearly impossible for me to find joy in anything. It was hard to see beauty in things when so much was ugly and evil.

But now…

“I used to be really creative.” I wilt a little at the memory of the woman I was. “I loved to sew and decorate and make gifts for my friends.” Knowing I will never be that woman again has me sliding down Zeke’s back, loosening my hold on him so I can reach the floor. “I used to be so different.”

Zeke turns to me, his expression just as intense as it always is, only now it doesn’t make me want to shrink. Now it makes me think he’s looking so hard that surely he can see inside me. See the jumble of emotions I don’t know how to untangle. Can’t begin to try. See what I’ve lost. What was taken from me.

“Sit down.” He lowers to the stack of mats, waiting as I settle in beside him before saying, “You’ll get through this. I promise.”

I don’t know that I would believe those words from anyone else. I haven’t, actually. Zeke isn’t the first one to offer them, but he is the first one who makes me think it might be possible.

I lean against his arm, letting my head fall to his shoulder because I’m so fucking tired. And because maybe a little of his strength and surety will soak into me. “I hope so.”

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly.

I nod, temple rocking against the thick band of muscle beneath my face.

“You aren’t what I was expecting.”

I let his words sink in. Let them marinate before confessing the discovery they caused. “Me either.”

I believed I knew myself. That I understood who I was and who I would be. But I never thought I would let a man I despised touch me to save my skin. I never thought I’d be brave enough to run from him when I had the chance.

And I never thought I’d lose the way I loved my life.

“Sometimes things don’t happen how we want them to.” Zeke’s words are soft. So unlike the man saying them. “And it changes us. Makes us different.” His chin tucks so he can look down at where my head still rests on his shoulder. “But different isn’t always bad.”

“Sometimes it is.” I miss so much about who I was before, but mostly I miss the way I saw the world as beautiful and safe.

He tips his head in a small nod. “Sometimes it is.” Zeke’s eyes roam my face. “But nothing about you will ever be bad, Savannah.”

My throat goes tight, squeezing around a confession I’ve never made. Not to Sadie. Not to the therapist I’ve been seeing once a week. Not even to myself. “I feel dirty.” I try to swallow down the ache making it hard to breathe, but it only tightens more. “I let him touch me. I pretended to like it because I didn’t want to die.”

Zeke’s jaw tightens, a muscle there ticking a few times before it slowly relaxes. But his teeth still seem clenched when she asks, “Do you remember what I told you earlier?”

He’s said a lot of things, but the only one that seems to stick out is when he said I was pretty. I wonder if he still feels that way now that he knows…

“I said there’s no rules when it comes to what you can do to save your own life. You do whatever it takes to get out alive.” Zeke takes a deep breath like he’s bracing for something. “I’ve done things most people would consider terrible to save myself and my team.”

I lift my eyes to his face, looking for some sort of clue about how he feels. “Do you regret them?”

“Never.” The answer is firm and immediate. “I would do every one of them all over again.”

Would I? That’s a difficult question to answer. But maybe that’s why I’m here. Because I wish that hadn’t been my only option.

I lift my head from his shoulder, straightening as I square my shoulders. “Let’s go again.” I stand, running both hands down my pants to wipe away the clamminess already starting. “But this time I’m coming right at you, so don’t get distracted.”

MY SISTER IS waiting for me when I get home after hitching a ride with one of the girls in the office. I knew this was coming, but my stomach still bottoms out at the sight of her coming my way.

I haven’t done anything wrong, but I don’t really want to explain how I’ve been spending my days to her either. Not yet. Not while I’m still giving myself whiplash, swinging from feeling hopeful and great to struggling with the decisions I’ve made and the things I’ve done.

The things that were done to me.

“Hey.” I manage a little smile, waiting for her to join me before climbing the steps leading to my front door.

She doesn’t greet me back, just dives right into the question I know is coming. “Where have you been?”

“At headquarters helping Elise.” I punch in the code to unlock the deadbolt, waiting for it to flip open before pushing into my home. It doesn’t really feel like home though. Not like the one I had before did.

“Helping Elise?” Sadie follows me into the dark and dreary space. “Do what?”

“Just office stuff.” I set my bag onto the dining room table and frown at its bare surface.

I used to love coming home and lighting all my scented candles. Being surrounded by the oasis I’d created and feeling comfortable and cozy.

“Oh.” Sadie looks me over, taking in the leggings and drapey sweatshirt I wore for my session with Zeke this morning. “What kind of office stuff?”

I shrug as I peel off my coat and hang it in the closet beside the door. “We stocked the kitchen and the break room and the rooming house. She’s showing me how to put together the grocery orders and how she tracks what we have on hand and what we need more of. I’m learning what Eli needs and where it all goes.”

It’s not hard work, but it’s nice to be doing something besides staring at the blank walls here as life goes on without me.

“If you wanted something to do you could have told me.” Sadie almost seems offended. “We could have found you something you enjoy.”

“I enjoy helping Elise.” It’s nice being around someone who doesn’t treat me like I’m one wrong move away from shattering.

“But what about teaching? You loved that.”

Sadie’s reply drags me back, reminding me of all I’ve lost. All I might never have again. Maybe that’s another reason I like being around Elise. She didn’t know me before. With her, I’m just who I am—not a remnant of the person I was before.

“I’m not who I used to be, Sadie,” I snap, angry at her for always pushing me where I don’t want to go. Mad that she won’t let me forget what’s been taken from me for a single second. “So stop pretending like I am.”

My sister’s head bobs back like I’ve slapped her. “But you can be. You just have to?—”

“Go back in time?” Anger bubbles out of me and I can’t stop it. “Pretend I wasn’t raped over and over again while I acted like I wanted it?” My stomach turns, twisting around the way Ivan’s hands felt on my skin. The way his breath smelled as it wafted over my face. “Because that’s not an option. And I’m tired of pretending like if I just wait long enough, I’ll feel like myself again.”

It’s what I expected all those months I sat here alone, waiting for something that would never happen. But I can’t go back. I can’t be the old me ever again. All I can do is pick up the pieces and make something new.

“You’re just tired.” Sadie’s voice breaks. “You’ll feel better tomorrow after you’ve had time to rest.”

As I stare at my sister, wondering how she can be so delusional, it hits me. I wasn’t the only one waiting for me to go back to what I was.

But I don’t have it in me to explain. To argue. To deal with whatever will happen when I try to make her understand. So instead I go along with it.

That seems to be my M.O.

“You’re probably right.” I force a little smile, hoping to placate her. “I just need to sleep.”

Sadie’s shoulders relax the smallest bit. “That makes sense.”

It probably does. To her.

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” I go to the door, opening it, rushing her out. Because I need the space to breathe. “Tell Jamison I said hi.”

Sadie nods, giving me a weak smile. “I will.” She leans in to hug me, squeezing tight. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I watch as she navigates the steps and follows the sidewalk to her condo next door. Once she’s inside, I close my door and turn to my sad excuse for a home. It’s so bare. So dark. So dreary.

And all of a sudden, I can’t freaking stand it.

Moving through the main floor, I flip on every light, illuminating the space for the first time so I can see it with new eyes.

And my new eyes tell me it sucks. The walls are empty and bland, still painted the muted gray slathered on by the builder. The floors are gorgeous hardwood, but not a single area rug breaks up the expanse. The only thing on the granite kitchen counters is a coffee maker and the air-fryer I use to make most of my meals.

There’s no curtains. No color. No warmth. No cute little decorations or lamps or the candles I used to love so much.

And I freaking hate it.

There’s not much I can do about it tonight, but I can get the ball rolling.

I grab my laptop from where it’s charging on the desk built into the kitchen cabinets. Pausing in front of the fridge, I dig out a container of pre-sliced cheese and a bottle of water. After collecting a sleeve of crackers and a pack of fig bars from the pantry, I take my load to the sectional and settle in.

Pierce was kind enough to hire movers to pack up my house and bring all my belongings here, but I’ve never had the energy to deal with anything besides the basics. As a result, the bulk of what I own is still locked up in a pod stored on the other side of Fairbanks. At least until Thursday, which, based on the storage company’s website, is the earliest they can deliver it here.

I schedule that, then pull up one of my favorite stores. Stacking cheese on crackers, I scroll through their offerings, adding anything that tickles my fancy into the virtual basket I’m filling to the brim. I know stuff won’t make me happy, but feeling like this place is my home will. And for the first time in a long time I’m excited. Looking forward to the future.

To who I might be now.