I bite on the inside of my cheek, praying the pain will stop my tears from falling. His tone reveals he isn’t just disappointed in me, he’s embarrassed. That hurts more than anything.
Not wanting him to see the moisture welling in my eyes, I stay a few feet behind him when we walk to his unmarked patrol car parked half a block down. The sky rumbles above my head, but not a drop of rain falls. My ass was saved more times than I can count tonight, so clearly all my luck has dried up.
Unlike the past week, Ryan doesn’t open my door for me. He just violently throws open his own door before sliding into the driver’s seat. Even with my heart sitting in my throat, I mimic his movements. Every penny I have is now in possession of the FBI, so I have no other means of getting home.
With Maison’s being situated on the swanky side of town, the drive to my apartment building is painstakingly long. Even Ryan’s love of the gas pedal doesn’t make it shorter.
“I was just performing,” I mutter under my breath when the tension grows too thick to ignore. “I’m not a prostitute.”
“Goddamn it, Savannah. Will you just cut the bullshit?!” Ryan screams, slamming his hand on the steering wheel during his last sentence. “I nearly lost my job because of you—my fucking freedom. And for what? For you to give me the same excuse you gave every other man in that. . . that. . .brotheltonight? They all looked at me like I was an idiot. That I’m so blinded by you I can’t see the glaringly obvious right in front of me. They already think you’re a stripper, and now. . .Fuck. . . Now they think I shelled out money for last night.”
I try to reply, but I can’t. I don’t care what his work colleagues think of me. Ryan arrived at Vipers with his partner in tow. If he was truly worried about their opinions, he wouldn’t have done that. I’m just shocked at the first half of his outburst. I did give him the same excuse I’ve been issuing all night. I didn’t alter it at all. I’m treating him as if he is like every other man I’ve met. But he isn’t. Not in the slightest.
“Tell me what to say? I’ll say anything you need to hear.” My words are choked by a sob sitting in the back of my throat, dying to be released. I hate the way he is looking at me now—like he can’t stand the sight of me.
Ryan’s chest puffs high before he releases the exasperated breath he’s holding. “How about the truth, Savannah? Do you even know what that is anymore?”
The sneer in his tone cuts me to pieces, but it doesn’t stop me from saying, “I understand you’re upset, but you don’t need to be mean.”
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest. I don’t care what you say, or how you say it, there is no way your dad would approve of this, Savannah. He’d be as disappointed in you as I am.”
My hands dart up to my chest, certain I’ve been mortally wounded. Although my hands come up free of blood, the inside of Ryan’s car looks like a massacre. The pain in Ryan’s eyes. . . God. It is ripping my heart into a million pieces. I’ve only experienced this type of heartache once before. It was when my father took his final breath.
Ryan’s foot slips off the gas pedal when I mumble, “I’m not meaning to hurt you, Ryan. I’m just trying to protect my little girl from a monster as violent as your father.”
Chapter 19
Ryan
Savannah swipes her hand across her wet cheeks as I shadow her down the dimly lit corridor of her apartment building. With her dropping her bombshell just as we arrived, I haven’t had a chance to respond. It is probably for the best. I truly don’t know what to say.
Savannah has a daughter.
The girl I'd go to the end of the earth to protect has a daughter.
Fuck.I never saw this coming.
If that isn’t daunting enough, the last part of her confession won’t stop ringing in my ears. “I’m just trying to protect my daughter from a monster as violent as your father.”
Does that mean what I think it does? Are Savannah and her daughter being abused? Is that why she is hiding? Because she’s afraid?
After jabbing a freshly cut key into a door I’ve entered many times before, Savannah drifts her watering eyes to mine. I lean into the shadows, praying it will hide my clenched jaw and balled fists from her view. It does, but nothing can wipe the torment from my eyes.
“Shh,” Savannah pleads, pressing her index finger to her lips.
She waits for me to nod before swinging open the door. I’m sucker punched for the second time in five minutes when we enter Brax’s old living room. Regina’s disappearing act the past few weeks now makes sense. She is sleeping on an outdated sofa in the middle of the confined space, nestling a little girl with honey-colored hair into her chest. She has a pair of reading glasses sitting askew on her freckle-covered nose, and a black pistol hidden under a scatter cushion.
Although grateful she is on the ball with keeping Savannah’s daughter safe, seeing her gun tightens the knot in my stomach. This is even worse than witnessing Axel backhand Savannah because this isn’t just about Savannah anymore. This is about a child—an innocent in any domestic violence situation.
After carefully removing the book dangling precariously on the little girl's chest, Savannah cradles her in her arms. Even if Savannah hadn't confessed she had a daughter, there would be no doubting their connection. The little girl I'd guess to be three or four is the spitting image of her mother. All I can see when I peer at her dimpled cheeks and pale skin is her mother racing down our street on her hot pink bike. She is adorable—just like her mom.
Savannah barely moves an inch from the couch before Regina's naturally ingrained protective instincts kick in. She snatches Savannah's wrist with one hand as her other creeps across the tacky material in hunt for her gun.
“It’s just me,” Savannah whispers, her voice low enough she doesn’t startle her daughter resting on her shoulder, but loud enough to settle Regina’s panic. . .until she spots me standing in the entranceway.
“I’ll be right back,” Savannah advises. Her eyes are locked on mine, but her words are for Regina. “Be civil. I made her promise.” This time, her plea is for me.
I postpone my interrogation until Savannah disappears down the hall. “How long have you known she has a daughter?” I ask, glaring at Regina. “Has she been hiding all this time because she is in fear for her life? And why didn’t you tell me aboutanyof this the instant you uncovered it?!”
