Page 99 of Inside Silence

“Talk to me.”

“Where is Tatum?” I ask as a last attempt at diversion.

“Spending the night at Naomi Battaglia’s,” he answers, before repeating, “Talk to me, Savannah.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I avoided you. I could tell you I was busy with work, wrapping up this case, and dealing with the investigation into my father, but as valid as they all may be, they’re also just excuses. The truth is, there is so much to unravel and I haven’t even really wrapped my head around it myself. As you can see, I’m a bit of a mess, and I was frankly afraid if I talked to you, I would fall apart, and I didn’t feel I could afford to. Not until my job was done and I could start processing.”

He reaches out his hand and wraps it around my ankle, his thumb softly stroking the strip of bare skin between the cuff of my pants and the edge of my sock. The simple soothing gesture alone is enough to make my eyes well up.

“Look at me, Savvy.” He waits until I lift my eyes to his. “I love you. Do you know how hard it’s been to see you struggle from a distance and not be able to do anything?”

There’s no holding back the tears, not after a declaration like that.

I’m barely coherent when I mutter, “Don’t be nice to me, please. Not when I have to tell you things that are going to upset you.”

He swiftly moves from the coffee table to the couch beside me and pulls me onto his lap like a child.

“Tell me,” he prompts, stroking my messy hair with his large hand.

So I do, starting haltingly, but I don’t leave out any detail of my exchange with Auden Maynard. I cling on to his shirt, feeling every reaction to what I’m saying in his body’s response.

“Sanchuk,” he suddenly interjects inexplicably. At my quizzical look, he clarifies, “The sheriff’s underling, it’s gotta be him. It would never have occurred to me, but picture those two side by side. The hooked nose, the dimples. There’s a definite family resemblance, I can’t unsee it now.”

He’s right, I can’t believe I missed it. I wonder if Sanchuk knew, or if my father ever picked up on it. Mental illness runs in families too, and I’m willing to bet both those men could be considered psychopaths.

I slightly shift in his lap so I can look him in the eye.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he echoes back. “No, not by a long shot, but that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with that sick bastard.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I start sobbing again and he immediately gathers me closer and gets to his feet with me in his arms.

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m drawing you a bath, and you’re gonna relax and let all of this garbage spinning through your head drain itself, and then I’m taking you to bed so you can sleep.”

It’s not until much later, after I’ve cried myself dry and washed myself clean, I nestle in his arms and press my face into the side of his neck.

“I love you so much.”

Chapter 31

Savvy

* * *

I wake up to the light abrasion of Nate’s scruff on the inside of my thighs.

Stretching my arms over my head, I completely give myself up to his ministrations. I’m accustomed to being in control all the time, but with Nate I feel free to let go and have him take the reins.

Something he does fabulously.

We’ve discovered early mornings are our favorite time of day. With a kid around, quiet times are hard to find, but we know for a fact a cannon couldn’t wake Tate in the mornings. She’s a teenager.