Branded: Savannah: Sisters Bound By Blood

by Karen Kelley

  While he drank his coffee, he pulled out the egg carton. He wasn't much of a cook, but he could at least scramble eggs and throw some bacon in the skillet. Most of the time, he ate on the run. That usually meant a frozen breakfast sandwich heated up in the microwave, but he wanted this morning to be special for Savannah. Usually, she drank her juice and occasionally had a piece of buttered toast.

  While everything was cooking, he set the table, then frowned. His dishes had come from the bar, mostly the chipped ones. Since he was the only one who ate here, it hadn't mattered to him. It still didn't. Well, not that much. He just wanted everything to be nice for her.

  He put the salt and pepper shakers on the table, then got out the butter and jelly from the refrigerator. The butter looked okay, and Savannah had been using it, so he figured it would be fine. They hadn't used the jelly, though, and there was some peanut butter in with the peach jelly. He looked toward the bathroom. The shower was still on. He quickly grabbed a spoon and got the peanut butter out before setting the jelly jar on the table. Better.

  When he heard the shower go off, he waited a few minutes, then poured a glass of orange juice and set it next to Savannah's plate. He turned the bacon, then checked on the eggs. He was going for fried, sunny side up. Yeah, that didn't work out too well, so he began scrambling them. He probably should've drained off a little of the oil, too. He added another egg to be on the safe side, figuring it would absorb the excess oil.

  By the time the bathroom door opened, he was setting the golden, brown biscuits on the table. He looked up, then stopped what he was doing to stare at her. She wore a pair of blue shorts and a pale blue top, and, like him, she was barefoot. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

  He quickly cleared his throat and straightened, waving his arm across the table. “Everything is ready. I hope you enjoy it."

  She shyly came forward, her gaze skittering away from his. "It looks delicious." She sat in the seat next to his, then took a drink of her orange juice. "You went to a lot of trouble," she said.

  "I cook occasionally." He frowned. "Shorty barred me from cooking in the bar, though. I think he thought my skills were lacking, and there had been a small issue with the grease catching fire, but it went out quickly when I used the fire extinguisher. I can at least throw together breakfast." He laughed. “I don’t think anyone can screw up that meal.” He handed her the plate of biscuits, and she took one. He added one to his plate, then reached for the eggs. He dished some out, then handed the bowl to her. The bacon was a little dark, but he liked his bacon crispy, so that was okay. He only hoped Savannah did as well.

  Other than the bacon being a little dark, he thought he'd done a pretty darn good job. He didn't care what Shorty said about his cooking.

  Breaker opened up his biscuit then grimaced. "I don't think I got them done enough," he admitted. It looked as if someone had slathered Elmer's glue in between the top and bottom layers.

  "That's okay," she said. "I don't need biscuits. The bacon and eggs look good, though."

  He noticed she was eyeing the bacon skeptically, but she picked up a slice and bit into it. The bacon crumbled, most of it falling onto her plate. She quickly took a drink of orange juice.

  Maybe he had cooked it a little too long.

  After she set the glass down, she bravely picked up her fork and scooped up some of the scrambled eggs. Her eyes widened as she chewed. She grabbed for her orange juice again.

  "Too much salt?"

  She nodded. "And maybe a little too much oil."

  He'd scooped some of the oil out, as much as he could. He took a bite of his eggs, then just as quickly spit them out in his napkin. "I think I know why Shorty won't let me close to his grill."

  She began to laugh. "Me, too. Maybe I should do the cooking from now on."

  "You know how to cook?"

  She nodded. "It was the only time that Isabella, Marco’s housekeeper, let her guard down with me. She didn't have any children of her own, and I think she enjoyed teaching me how to cook. I was a good student. I also learned out of necessity when I was growing up, although our meals were simple."

  "Well, this is all going in the trash." He noticed she did not argue with him. Not that he could blame her. Okay, he was a lousy cook, but he felt the need to try every once in a while.

  While he was cleaning up, she was going through his refrigerator. She brought out the egg carton again and some peppers and onions, which she quickly chopped. She got a skillet and put about a tablespoon of oil in it.

  He watched in fascination as she added one small piece of pepper to the oil, then when it began to sizzle, she added the rest of the onion and peppers to the skillet. Next, she cracked the eggs into a bowl, then whisked them until they were smooth. When the peppers and onions were done, she added the eggs to the skillet and then stirred. While that was cooking, she oiled another skillet and began heating the flour tortillas that had been in his refrigerator.

  She looked up and caught him watching her. "Do you want to shred some cheese?"

  "Sure," he said and hurried to the refrigerator. He grabbed the block of cheese, grateful that it didn't have green on it, then the shredder out of the drawer. By the time he had the cheese ready, she was setting the bowl of eggs, peppers, and onions on the table, along with a plate of tortillas.

  "You first," she told him.

  He already knew it was going to taste great just from the aroma he was inhaling. He grabbed a tortilla, scooped up some eggs then added cheese and hot sauce before taking a bite. His eyes closed as the flavors exploded inside his mouth. After he swallowed, he looked at her. "Okay, from now on, you're the designated cook. I'll be on cleanup duty."

  She smiled. He knew he'd pleased her with his complement. He was glad he could put a smile on her face.

  She ate one tortilla to his four. When they finished eating, they cleaned the kitchen together. She insisted on helping since he'd attempted to fix the first breakfast. Afterward, they went to the sofa with her curling up close to him.

  “In case you ever want to watch television,” he said, thinking since she’d been here a few weeks that he should’ve already shown her. “This is how to work the remote.” He quickly showed her how to use the buttons, then handed it to her. He watched as she flipped through the channels. She was transfixed by what she was seeing. Her eyes lit up when she came to a station with ballet dancers.

  “Oh, look how graceful they are,” she breathed.

  “Marco didn’t let you watch television?” he guessed.

  She shook her head. "He had one in his study, but he kept the door locked when he wasn't home. I wasn't allowed to watch television."

  Breaker didn’t think she noticed his anger. It seemed Marco didn’t let her do a lot of anything.

  “What did he let you do?”

  She shook her head. “He always left me a list. I had to complete everything on it by the end of the day. He didn’t give me time to do much of anything except what he wanted me to do.” She seemed to look beyond the television. “He had strict times for me to eat, when I would shower, what I would clean that day. Everything had to be perfect. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere in his home. All the surfaces gleamed.”

  When he touched her shoulder, she jumped, and when she looked at him, he caught the fear in her eyes.

  She immediately relaxed. “But he can’t hurt me anymore,” she said.

  He had a feeling she wanted him to confirm it for her again. “No, he can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

  She nodded.

  When his phone began to ring, he pulled it from his pocket. Carter stared back at him. “I’ve got to take this. Are you okay with the television?”

  “Yes,” she told him, turning back to the screen, her gaze transfixed once again on the dancers.

  He stepped into his bedroom and closed the door. “Have you got something?”

  “There’s a drug shipment coming in next Friday. You still want to do this?”<
br />
  “More than ever.”

  “Then I’ll get the team together.”

  They talked a little more, setting things in motion, then he ended the call. He opened the bedroom door and watched Savannah, who was still engrossed in the ballet. As if sensing he watched her, she looked his way, then smiled.

  Yeah, he’d make Marco pay for what he did to her.

  "I have to leave town on business," Breaker told her, knowing there wasn’t going to be an easy way to say he was going away for a while. In the last few weeks, Savannah had begun to relax. He'd become her safety net. He knew it would take time for her to gain complete independence, but she was getting better each day.

  She clasped her hands in her lap, then looked at him. "Will it be dangerous?"

  He grimaced as he sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms. "No more dangerous than eating my cooking."

  She slapped at his arm when he began to laugh. "I'm being serious. I'm worried about you."

  He ran his finger along her chin. "I haven't had anyone worry about me in a long time."

  Her eyes narrowed. "You know that's not true. I bet Rayan, Angie, and Shorty worry every time you leave. They care very much about you."

  "You're right, they do."

  "Will you be in danger?" she asked again.

  "There's always danger with my job," he said, finally turning serious.

  She nodded. "Promise me you'll be careful."

  He liked that she didn't get hysterical and try to convince him not to go. He dated one woman who became inconsolable when he casually mentioned once that he was going to Mexico. She’d watched too many crime shows where people crossed the border and were never seen or heard from again.

  There were beautiful places to see, and he'd met some wonderful people in Mexico. That time, not so much, though. It was a good thing she hadn't known what he would be doing in Mexico or she would’ve had a heart attack.

  He wasn't about to tell Savannah that he was going to fuck up one of Marco's drug shipments. The less she knew, the better off she would be. He didn't want her to worry about anything right now.

  "If something ever happened to me, I've made sure someone will take care of you. I have friends who know about your situation."

  "I'm not worried about me. I just want you to be careful."

  He grinned. "I'm always careful." Except when he was taking chances. Carter once told him that he walked a tightrope, and he only hoped it didn't snap when he was going over a canyon. He didn't know about his friend's judgment.

  Breaker knew that he wasn't ever going to let Marco hurt Savannah again. He would keep her safe, no matter what.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was strange how alone she felt since Breaker had left this morning. She'd been alone since her father sold her to Marco. His men were too afraid of him to even carry on a conversation with her. Most of his men made her nervous anyway.

  Isabella had talked very little. She'd taught her to cook and occasionally let her guard slip just a little, but those times had been few and far between. Even then, Savannah had to watch what she said because Isabella might say something to Marco. She’d used the excuse that she wanted to please Marco and make his favorite foods. That tactic had worked well.

  This time was different. Breaker leaving made her feel empty inside. Savannah had tried to stay busy all morning so she wouldn’t think about it too much. She'd already swept and mopped all the floors. Not that the apartment had that much floor space. She'd scrubbed the countertops and the outside of the cabinets and then went to work on the refrigerator and stove.

  She'd even turned on the TV to a music channel to drown out the silence. Marco hadn't let her listen to it in the past. She enjoyed listening to all but a couple of the stations. And she danced around the apartment—something else she hadn't been allowed to do. Life was suddenly good.

  She raised her arms high in the air and twirled around the room.

  “And the fairy danced in the moonlight,” Jade said. “And the youngest fairy of them all began to sing, her voice ringing out all over fairyland.”

  Rena’s voice, pure and sweet, raised to heaven above.

  Savannah twirled around as if she was dancing on air, and all the other fairies clapped.

  Rena’s song ended.

  Jade laughed from the sheer enjoyment. Savannah and Rena looked at her, then they began to laugh, running forward and hugging her.

  “We’ll always have each other,” Jade told them. “Always.”

  Savannah sank to the floor, breathing hard. When she opened her eyes, the room was empty. For just a second… For one brief moment, they were all together. She brought her knees up close to her chest and cried for what used to be.

  Someday. Maybe someday.

  She finally came to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, she felt better. Back in control of her emotions once again. She dressed, then went down to the bar. It was still a few hours before they opened. She knew if she could stay busy, she might not worry about Breaker so much.

  He hadn't told her what he was going to do, and she hadn't asked. Angie had said they were pretty sure it was something to do with the government, and he didn't talk about it. He’d said as much to her about it being government work. Something told her it would be dangerous, though.

  Breaker had given her a set of keys, so she unlocked the bar and went inside, pushing the door closed behind her. As she walked through the empty building, silence swirled around her. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to get rid of the goosebumps.

  The door opened behind her, and she jumped, then relaxed when she saw Rayan. "You startled me," she said with a nervous laugh. She had to smile then. Rayan wore a sleeveless, white T-shirt that stretched across her generous breasts and was low-cut enough that Savannah was pretty sure the customers would be holding their breath to see if she spilled out. Her black shorts weren’t quite as short today, and she’d tied back her bright red hair. Even with all her flamboyancy, Savannah liked her outspoken nature.

  "Angie said that Breaker was leaving this morning on some kind of business that was out of town, so I figured I'd come in early to see if there was anything you needed. I checked upstairs, but when you didn’t answer, I figured you were at the bar." She smiled wide. “And I was right.”

  A warm feeling washed over her. She hadn't felt anything like this since her sisters, when she was still living at home. "I'm fine, thanks."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Well, Breaker's apartment now sparkles because it's so clean. I ran out of things to do, so I thought I would take a shower, then come down here and see if I could find anything else to keep me busy."

  "Tell you what, let's get a couple of sodas, pull up a chair, and we’ll just visit. We haven't had a chance to talk that often. How does that sound?"

  "Better than my plan," she said and went behind the counter. "I'm serving. What will you have?"

  "A Coke."

  Savannah grabbed a Coke for Rayan and a root beer for herself. She tried drinking a Coke at the restaurant that first night, and it was too strong for her. Bubbles fizzled in her nose.

  Rayan took the Coke after Savannah brought it over and handed it to her. "My drink of choice." She took a drink and sighed. “I needed more caffeine.”

  Rayan was right, they hadn't talked much, so Savannah waited for the questions she knew would come. Except they didn't, and she began to relax. There was something she wanted to know from the other woman, though. "How long does it take to get a tattoo?"

  Rayan raised her eyebrows. "You want to get a tat on that perfect skin of yours? It's flawless. Why would you want to do that?"

  Before she could answer, the door opened, and Angie strolled in. She looked at the two of them and smiled. "I guess we had the same idea. I always worry when Breaker is gone, even though he never really talks about what he does. I figure it has to be deep undercover. You know James Bond type stuff. It helps to have company. Let me g
et something to drink, and I'll join you two."

  "The more the merrier," Rayan said. “I thought maybe he might be an international jewel thief.”

  Savannah covered her smile by taking another drink of her soda.

  Angie joined them at the table. “That’s why he owns this very exclusive club.” She raised one eyebrow when she looked at Rayan.

  Rayan frowned. “It could be a part of his cover.”

  Angie shook her head. “Nope, definitely government work. Espionage or something. We all know the government doesn’t pay diddly squat.”

  “You might be right.” Rayan nodded.

  Savannah nervously took a drink, then set her soda down as she looked at the other two women. "Do you think Breaker might get hurt?"

  They both looked at her, then at each other before Angie began to speak.

  “Of course not. We’ve been guessing for years now. It’s more of a habit than anything. Just a game we play.” She looked at Rayan for support.

  “We have another problem, though,” Rayan said, changing the subject.

  “What’s that?” Angie looked relieved that they were talking about something else as she took a drink of her soda.

  “Savannah wants to get a tattoo. I tried to tell her that she has beautiful skin, but I'm not sure she was listening."

  Savannah wondered how Rayan got all that from their short conversation, and when she’d only asked about a tattoo. "I don't think I said I wanted to get one."

  "Do you?" Angie asked.

  She had a feeling they were ganging up on her. "As a matter of fact, I do, but I didn't say I did. Rayan was just assuming." She gave Rayan one of her fiercest looks.

  Rayan only laughed. "I knew that was what you were getting at."

  "Breaker will kill you if you mess up that pretty skin," Angie warned.

  "What's he got to do with anything? It’s my body."

  "But since you two are becoming an item, I'm pretty sure you're going to want to make him happy. If you get a tattoo, then he might not be happy," Angie explained.