by Emma Renshaw
“Yes, Liam, I do.”
We stare at each other for a few beats. I see the determination in her eyes. She’s going to do this, no matter what.
“There’s something else, Liam.”
“What?” I ask, my gut clenching.
“After I tell you everything, I want you to tell me right away if it’s something you think you can handle. If you can’t, tell me and I will find a way home. If my baggage is too much for you, too much to overlook, I need you to be honest.”
“Nothing will be too much for me,” I insist earnestly, meaning every word. This girl has tied me in knots since I saw her. I can’t walk away because of her so-called baggage. Whatever it is. I’ll figure it out, we will figure it out.
“Don’t say that. You don’t know. It’s fucking ugly, Liam. It’s dirty. It’s messy. It’s unfinished.”
My spine straightens at her last statement. What is she dealing with that’s unfinished?
“Tell me, Savannah.”
She does the last thing I expect her to do. She whips off my shirt over her head, standing in front of me in just a light pink lace bra and matching thong. I can’t hold back my groan this time, seeing her body in front me. I know that’s not what it’s about, though—she’s showing me her tattoo. It’s a lot larger than I thought it would be; it’s expanding her entire stomach.
The only light in the room is the lamp on the nightstand. I stand up and switch on the light to see it better before sitting back down, remembering that she doesn’t want me to touch her or be too close to her. The artwork is stunning. It’s a bird of some sort, a phoenix. The phoenix is rising from a pile of ashes with flames. The wings are extended, taking up the majority of her stomach. The head is looking up and lands right between her breasts. There are words that I can’t quite make out from my position where the flames are.
Why would she hide this? It’s gorgeous, and she looks so damn sexy with the colorful artwork on her taut skin.
“Savannah,” I say, my voice sounding husky even to my ears. I am turned on by seeing her like this, seeing something that almost no one else has. She looks like a fucking badass that is also a lady standing in front of me, with this badass ink and pink panties. “Why would you cover that? It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s not the art I’m covering. I’m covering what the art is hiding.”
28
SAVANNAH
I t’s out. I started. My heart is still beating. I am still breathing. The earth didn’t shift on its axis. I can get through this. Liam’s gaze was on my stomach, taking in the vibrancy of my tattoo. I agree with him. It’s gorgeous. Dex’s work is fantastic. I couldn’t have asked for anything better. If I were a different person, I’d show it off. It deserves to be shown off, but I fear the questions.
Liam’s posture, which was slack, is now stiff and rigid. His jaw is tight, eyes wary. He looks like he’s working his way through a minefield, unsure of what will set off an explosion.
I lean down, grabbing the shirt off the floor, done with exposing myself. I want to tell him everything, but doing that while standing in front of him in just my underwear is too vulnerable. He can see every part of me this way. I need to be covered while I bare my soul to him. I’m about to rip myself apart at the seams and bleed all over this floor. No part will be left unseen or in the shadows. I’m stepping into the light with my truth.
Liam grabs my wrist. “Don’t.”
I look up at him, still leaning toward the ground. “Don’t what?”
“Stay like this. Don’t put it back on. I—I need to see it. I need to know what it’s hiding.”
I stand back tall. If I’m going to basically be naked, he is, too. “Take off your clothes.”
He startles, his head cocking back like he’s utterly flabbergasted by my request.
“Not for sex, you dirty barbarian. If I’m going to stand here half-naked, so are you. Just stay in your briefs.”
He takes off his shirt and the sweatpants. He’s left sitting on the edge of the bed, posture still rigid, in nothing but his black boxer briefs. I still feel incredibly bare and exposed, but it’s better knowing I’m not the only one.
“Tell me everything, Savannah,” he coaxes gently.
Everything. Tell him everything. Where do I even begin? I’ve never told the full story in one sitting. In court, it was broken up over days. While I was in therapy, it was in bits and pieces that I was willing to give. Everything. He needs everything. I slice open the first cut, starting from the very beginning.
“I dated a guy named Aiden. We were typical high school sweethearts. Thought we were in love. Age didn’t matter. We didn’t need life experiences, we had each other. It’s ironic now, he treated me well. Toward the end of our relationship, I started noticing I didn’t want to be around him as much as when we first got together. At first, I chalked up it up to, that’s what every relationship goes through, right?”
Liam interrupts. “I don’t think so. I think some relationships are always good. Sure, they have their bad days, there are fights, but at the core of that relationship, they’re happy. It’s how my parents are.”
I nod my head and smile wistfully. “That’s how mine are, too. I was looking for excuses, though. I kind of felt like I was with him for this long, I have to stay with him. I think there was a part of him that knew I was pulling away. He started to become clingy, or at least it felt clingy. I couldn’t breathe. He was like a leech sucking the life out me. I knew that a person could never think like that about someone they love. I had some hard nights with myself, agonizing over breaking it off with him, but I finally did it.”
I stop, realizing I’ve been pacing in front of Liam. His posture has relaxed slightly, but he’s watching me like a hawk. His hands are balled into fists on his knees. I look at them, then up to his eyes.
He shrugs. “Trying to restrain from grabbing you. I’d rather be holding you for this conversation. I know something I won’t like is coming.”
I don’t explain to him again that I need the distance, he knows. I continue my pacing and keep slicing away at the memories, revealing other parts of me. Other parts of this story. Maybe by the end, he’ll understand my dire need for retribution.
“I did it at a cafe. He cried. He was upset, he begged me not to, but eventually he kind of accepted it. Honestly, it startled me. I didn’t think that would be how it went. I thought it was going to be hard, that we would be there for hours. We weren’t even there for twenty minutes. It was eerie how well he took it. It made me nervous, but cautiously optimistic. He did tell me he would always love me and gave me a very creepy hug.”
I shudder just from the memory of that embrace.
“Creepy hug?” he asks, confused.
“He kept telling me that he’d always love me, but wanted me to be happy. He said if this is what made me happy, then he’ll let me go. He wrapped me in his embrace and was hard.” I swallow the bile, knowing that he was hard because he felt like this was all part of some Romeo and Juliet bullshit. “I got out of there as fast as I could. He watched me drive away. And then, nothing. For days. Each day, I became more optimistic that he understood. I wondered if he felt the same things I did and knew it was the right decision.”
Liam remains quiet. I can’t glance at him again, it’s easier to look at anything else in the room. I know what’s next. It’s the beginning. The fucking beginning that I didn’t know was coming. The moment that would change the course of my life, the very core of who I was, and put scars all over my body and soul.
“Something you need to understand, even then, even before everything, I was never someone who confided my secrets to everyone. I’m generally pretty reserved with personal information. And, like I said before, I felt like he was draining me. No one knew I planned to break up with him, and afterward, I didn’t tell anyone. Valerie, who was my best friend, was on a cruise. My parents were out of town celebrating an anniversary.”
“I have a question,” Liam says, surpri
sing me, breaking me from my monologue.
I look at him and raise an eyebrow.
“If Valerie is your best friend, how come she doesn’t know about the tattoo?”
“Valerie doesn’t even know everything I’m about to tell you. I wanted to keep it from friends and family as much as possible. You ... you’ll be the first to know it all.”
I’ve concealed this wound for too long, not wanting anyone to know it exists. This black part of my soul hasn’t seen the light of day for years. I rip off the bandage, exposing this piece of myself. Each word I speak opens the wound even more, and it feels as though my soul is escaping in slow drips. Drip. Drip. Drip.
The look in his eyes softens, and he opens his mouth to speak but stops. His expression warms my tortured soul.
“So, Val and my parents were out of town. I decided to enjoy the few days at home alone to myself. I felt like I hadn’t been alone for so long. I had plans. Netflix. Books. Junk food. Bliss. One day, though, I decided to leave Val a voicemail. I knew she wouldn’t get it for a few days, but that was fine. I told her we have tons to talk about and that I was newly single. After that call, I was showering. I thought I heard something, so I stopped shampooing my hair and listened as hard as I could. I didn’t hear anything else, so I figured my mind was playing tricks on me.”
I pause, readying myself for the next part. Chills race up my arm, feeling the fear that I know I’m about to encounter. I see myself in those moments. Romance book on my unmade bed with clean and comfortable pajamas, the pantry filled with chips, freezer filled with cookie dough. I had no idea. I wasn’t prepared. I am now. I will always be ready for any monster lurking in the shadows.
“I got out of the shower, changed into my PJs, before heading to the kitchen for some cookie dough.” I can’t bring myself to even look at Liam. My pacing becomes faster, my hand goes to my stomach, fearing the bile there will make its way to the surface. “The first thing I saw was red roses on the counter.”
Slice. Drip. Drip. Drip.
“I called out to my mom and dad, but like I said, they were out of town for their anniversary. Maybe they got flowers on the way home. That’s what I was hoping, but when I saw those flowers, dread filled my gut like cement. I looked in their room then went back to the kitchen, and there he was. Aiden. His head was in the refrigerator like it was just any other day.”
“Savannah, please, baby, let me hold you,” Liam interrupts.
I shake my head, continue to pace. I hear Liam take a deep breath in through his nose. “When he turned around, I fucking knew, Liam. I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t have my phone. I had nothing. His eyes were dark and crazy. I’d never seen him look like that. He was a completely different person from the boy I knew. Or thought I knew. He kept acting like it was any other day, telling me to get ready for our date. I told him we were broken up. He told me not to be silly and stop playing games. We went back and forth.”
I wipe the tears streaming down my face. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened next, but I do know he slammed my face into the kitchen island, knocking me out. I later found out he cleaned the blood, so no one would know. He texted my parents and told them he surprised me with a weekend trip. He did things like that, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary. They had no idea that he was actually kidnapping me. When I woke up, I was chained to a bed in lingerie.”
29
LIAM
F ire spreads through my veins. I’m ready to slam my fist into the wall. I don’t know where this fucking bastard is, but I will find him. I will kill him, and if by some grace of God he is already dead, I will drag his psychotic ass from his grave and kill him again. I will dream of decimating him and dancing in his ashes for laying a single finger on my girl.
I can’t. I fucking can’t. I can’t stand to be separated from her in this moment. I need her in my arms. My body is coiled so tightly when the first tear falls from her eyes. I almost jump up to grab her, but I hold back. “Savannah,” I say roughly. She looks at me, tears streaking down her face. My heart breaks, seeing her pain as she relives these memories. If I had known, maybe I wouldn’t have pushed so hard. But, I also need to know, so I can hunt him down. I need to know the pains she suffers, so I can help her to heal.
“Baby, I have to hold you. I—I need to know you’re safe. I need to feel you in my arms.”
She sucks in a breath, a sob breaking free, but she launches herself into my arms. I hold her tight, kissing the top of her head, whispering anything I can think of to comfort this gorgeous girl that I am lucky enough to hold, that I will keep holding onto. There’s no fucking way I will ever let her go. That’s it. I’m done. She’s the one. It doesn’t matter how many nights turn to days, I will sit here with my girl in my arms and listen.
I drag our bodies up the bed, so we’re resting against the headboard.
“I have to keep going,” she whispers.
“I know,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head again. I don’t want her to have to keep reliving this, but she needs to let out each piece, and I need to know every detail of Savannah.
She sniffles a few times before beginning again. “When I woke up, I really didn’t remember anything that happened. My head hurt really bad. I started screaming for help, scared out of my mind. When Aiden ran through the door of the room he was keeping me in, I felt relief. I thought he somehow found me and was there to save me. He kept asking if I was okay and looking at my wrists and ankles in the restraints. I asked and asked and asked for him to break me out of there. It didn’t click until he sat back and told me he couldn’t do that.”
She sniffles a few more times, her tears falling onto my bare chest. I feel utterly useless. I tighten my arms around her, holding her more securely, wiping away her tears with my thumbs. “I was so scared and confused, Liam. I stared at him for what felt like hours, trying to understand. My memory slowly started to come back. He knew me, Liam, and he used that against me. I think that’s why it’s so hard to let you—or anyone—in. He fucking knew everything about my family and me. He knew my parents were out of town, he knew I wouldn’t tell anyone right away.”
“How long were you gone before someone reported you missing?”
“How can you report a missing person if you don’t know they’re missing?” Savannah states without missing a beat. It takes a moment to register what she is saying. There’s no anger or sadness in her voice. I search her tone and words for any sign of resentment.
My muscles are twitching from holding her so tightly and holding in so much hostility toward this asshole. “No one reported you missing?” I ask incredulously.
“They didn’t know. I don’t think my parents ever forgave themselves. He had my phone. He would text them updates about our ‘trip,’” she says, adding in the finger quotations. “I didn’t know all of this until later. I thought they would be looking for me. They were coming home the next day. I thought help was coming.”
Savannah takes more deep breaths. I’m collecting every damn morsel she drops like a starving man, and my only saving grace is her words, her story, her heart. “I’m here, Savannah. Take as much time as you need.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. If I stop, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get to this point again. I have to keep going.”
Her bravery and tenacity leave me in awe.
She continues. “At first, he didn’t do anything to me except try to convince me that I loved him and we belong together. He told me that as soon as I realize I loved him, he’d set me free. My first breakout attempt was when that all changed. I convinced him to take off the cuffs, so I could use the restroom and shower. Before that, I could only use the restroom with my cuffs attached to a weight, something so heavy I could barely move with it. He watched me use the restroom, and he started stroking himself as I got undressed.” She pauses, more tears falling. I bring her face up to look at mine, but her eyes are glassy and far away. She’s in whatever hellhole he kept her in. My gut is f
lipping over on itself.
“I yanked down the pole holding the shower curtain and hit him over the head.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. My little fighter. Pride surges through my chest, thinking the worst is over until I remember she said it was her first escape attempt. Dread fills my stomach when she opens her mouth, knowing everything she just told me is the easy stuff. The worst is yet to come.
30
SAVANNAH
Every word is slicing me deeper and taking me farther and farther back into the recesses of my memories and farther away from this room with Liam. I keep speaking to him, recounting my memories out loud as they play like a movie in my head. Every thought and memory passes my lips as I completely slip into the past, and I recount it all to Liam.
I smell the cedar of the cabin where he kept me. I remember the rainfall of the showerhead and the clinging of the metal hooks holding the shower curtain sliding over the rod as I held it above my head. Aiden stood there, eyes closed, dick in hands like he was getting ready for a show. When he heard the metal rings slide, he opened his eyes just in time to see it come crashing down on his head.
“Fuck,” he howled. Blinding fear filled my stomach when he stepped toward me, hand outstretched. My back was to a wall. I thought he would fall. He didn’t. The hit didn’t even make him stumble. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he was breathing through his rage. His face was turning so damn red. He was vibrating with anger.
“Goddammit, Savannah!” he yelled into my face has his hand clamped over my throat. I scratched his hands and grabbed his wrists, trying to pry them away from my neck. No air was escaping from my lungs. I tore one hand away, feeling the wall around me for anything I could reach. There was nothing. I had no one. I had fucking nothing. Nothing except the dots hazing in on my vision. I reached my hands out trying to scratch his face, his eyes, something. But he held it so far away from me. I couldn’t do anything. I slapped his arms and scratched. He kept yelling, more and more anger building with each word. I thought I was going to die in that moment, so I gritted out through my teeth, “Fuck you.”
