Page 18 of Give Me Peace

“I imagine some asshole leaked that she’s being released today, so their frothing at the mouth to get a fucking picture,” he snaps, pissed at the situation and the invasion of privacy. We knew it’d be a circus once the media caught wind of Saylor’s return. It’s not every day that a kid goes missing for five years and is found alive. This is a small town and word travels fast. That’s why we purposely kept the information about today’s exit limited to a small group of people. And one of them fucked us over.

“Denvers has the SUV ready and waiting in the staff garage. It’s basement level and private, so hopefully we can slip out unnoticed.” Loch reads the forwarded info from his phone. “Wake Saylor while I go get the discharge papers.” He’s gone before I can so much as nod. I drop my bag, and debate how to do this without scaring the shit out of her.

“Saylor,” I whisper, stroking my thumb over her good wrist. I love the feel of her pulse. That thump-thump makes me sigh. “Hey, Little Fighter.” I try again, and her eyes finally flutter open.

“Roan?” She questions, her voice gravelly with sleep.

“Sorry to wake you, but we’ve gotta go.” She frowns, rightly confused by our sudden departure. I debate if I should tell her what’s happening, not wanting to freak her out unnecessarily, but she has a right to know. “Someone tipped off the local news stations that you’re leaving today and they’ve got reporters posted out front trying to get a picture.” She blinks at me a few times but doesn’t react other than that.

“The car’s ready to go, away from prying eyes, but we need to move quickly.” I hold my hand out to help her from the bed. Once she’s steady on her feet, Saylor shuffles across the room, looking adorably rumpled in her oversized doctor getup, and bends to pick up a plastic bag. She hisses at the strain it causes on her ribs, but she’s already upright before I can offer to help.

“Ready,” she states, just as Loch and the nurse walk back in.

“Saylor, I need you to sign these discharge papers, sweetheart.” Loch walks them over to the bedside table and hands her a pen, then shoves them at the nurse as soon as she’s finished.

“Lochlan has your prescription, okay?” Saylor nods, her eyes looking a little glassy as she says goodbye to the woman who’s helped her so much these past few days. She hands her a pair of flip flops so she has something for her feet. They speak quietly for a moment, and then Saylor gives the nurse a weak hug, but it still shocks the shit out of me that she’s the one who initiated the contact.

Loch and I grab our bags and sandwich Saylor between us as we head down the hallway. A few heads turn our way, but no one stops to ask any questions. I hit the button to the elevator and wait very impatiently as it travels down from the fifth floor. As soon as we’re inside, Loch presses ‘B’ for basement, trying to get the door closed before anyone can join us. It spits us out right in front of Agent Denvers, who tosses me the key to our SUV.

“About time.” He sounds as excited as I am to be up this early. “Gassed it up for you, too. You’re welcome.” Loch rolls his eyes but mumbles a ‘thanks’.

“Ms. Radley, I’m happy you chose to go with the guys, but if at any point you change your mind, give me a call me. Lochlan has my number.” Saylor agrees, but all I’m thinking is there’s no chance in hell she’s changing her mind. I’ll buy her a dozen puppies if I have to. Whatever it takes to keep her happy and makes her stay.

Commotion from the side of the building grabs my attention. The entrance to the parking garage is just a few feet away, and the longer we’re here, the more anxious I get that someone’s going to waltz right in. The last thing Saylor needs is another fucking camera shoved in her face. We say our goodbyes to Denvers, promising to be in touch soon, and then I steer us towards the waiting SUV. I place our bags in the trunk, then open the door for Saylor. She slides across the backseat, but my need to know she’s safe and secure has me leaning over to buckle her in. She flinches at the sudden closeness, and it feels like a shotgun blast straight to the fucking chest.

“Saylor, I’m so sorry,” I blurt, backing off just as quickly. Her eyes are bouncing around the cab of the vehicle, like she’s searching for the nearest exit.

“What’s wrong?” Loch twists around from the passenger seat. But I ignore him, more concerned with the tiny girl on the precipice of a panic attack.

“Hey.” I lift my hand and rest it against her cheek, hoping I’m not about to make things worse. Saylor goes completely still. “It’s Roan. You’re okay, but I need you to focus on me, Saylor. Match your breathing with mine.” Her gaze slowly clears as clarity creeps back in.

“I’m sorry. I promise it wasn’t you,” she squeaks, a single tear slipping free. I brush it away with my thumb, giving her a sad smile, because we both know this was my fault.

“You’re okay, Little Fighter,” I whisper before pulling my hand away and gently closing the door.

For the first hour, we drive in silence. Loch’s angry glare practically burns a hole in the side of my head, but I can’t fault him for being upset. I’d be pissed at him too if the roles were reversed. This isn’t the first time I’ve dropped the ball, and that sliver of self-doubt I’m so used to tries to weasel its way back in. I’ve always been a heavy sleeper, which is why it took me a minute to process Saylor’s screams when she first woke up and that fuckwad cop was in her room. Then again when I flipped the bathroom light off the other night after taking a piss. I’d been half asleep, but it was my mistake. Regardless of the reasoning.

I’m trying to cut myself some slack. This is new territory for all of us, and no doubt, I won’t be the only one who fucks up in the days to come. We need to learn her triggers, but I’m not sure Saylor even knows them all just yet. I have a sick feeling we’ll be discovering them the hard way. My fingers flex against the steering wheel, the joints stiff from how tightly I’ve been gripping it. I keep flashing my eyes to the rearview mirror, sneaking glances at Saylor as she sleeps.

“What was that?” Loch finally asks, his voice flat and cold.

“I wasn’t thinking.” I shift in my seat uncomfortably. We might be thick as thieves, but Loch has this way of ripping the wind from your sails when he feels like you’ve fucked up.

“No shit,” he deadpans.

“I could hear people talking right outside the parking garage and I freaked out. If someone had walked in on us, God forbid a fucking reporter, it would’ve been a clusterfuck. I just wanted to get her out of there.” I can still feel those claws of paranoia. It has me scanning the mirrors, double checking that we aren’t being followed.

“I get it, Ro.” Loch exhales his annoyance. “We have to make a point of thinking before we act. Saylor’s been fine with the touches we’ve exchanged so far, but that doesn’t mean she’s comfortable with anything more. And at any point she could decide she wants no contact, and that’d be perfectly fine. She’s allowed to change her mind. That girl’s owed a lifetime of takebacks.” While his words are true, they also make my throat tighten. If I pushed her into changing her mind about staying with us, I’m going to kick my own ass.

“I sent Kash out yesterday to get her some stuff. Clothes, toiletries…those sorts of things,” Loch mumbles absentmindedly, his gaze focused out the window, as if he’s lost in thought.

“Shit. I’m glad you thought of that.” My head’s been jumbled these past few days, but I can’t believe I overlooked the fact Saylor has not a single thing to her name. It’s going to be an adjustment having her at the house. No one but the five of us has ever stepped foot in our home, and certainly no women. We built that place to be a sanctuary, fitted it with everything we could possibly need so we’d always have a safe spot to land. It represents security and reminds us of how far we’ve come. If you’d asked me a week ago, I couldn’t have imagined ever allowing someone to invade that slice of peace we’ve carved out for ourselves, but it wasn’t even a question with Saylor. For her not to be there would feel wrong.

“I figured Kash was the best choice to handle it. You know he has a way with awkward situations,” Loch adds, breaking me from my thoughts. “Karley gave me her best guess as to what sizes Saylor would need, so hopefully she was somewhat close.”

I think about the man-child I’ve known for eight years. Because this is Kash we’re talking about, he probably poured over every detail we have of Saylor pre-kidnapping—all her likes and dislikes—and created a fucking time capsule in her room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a Justin Bieber poster tacked to her wall, since we know he was a favorite of hers…when she was fourteen. There’s a good chance that would have her calling Denvers immediately. And sweet Jesus, I pray any…intimate…things he bought aren’t equally as cringey. Let’s hope he found a happy medium between pre-teen and negligées.

Fuck.