"Not all men are like Toby McKee," I murmur, reaching out to run a fingertip down her cheek. "Not all of us are abusive, sadistic, and selfish assholes. My greatest pleasure is making you feel good. Taking care of your needs is my job. I don't ever want to push you too far or hurt you like he did. I never want to remind you of him," I say, heat in my voice.
"You aren't like him." She offers me a smile, worry melting from her expression. "You make me feel so good, Jared, so safe and loved. But I don't want you to hold back with me. I don't want you to think you can't ask me to do that for you, because I want to. I-I liked the way you felt in my mouth," she whispers, blushing furiously.
I quirk a brow, surprised by her confession. She's never tried to suck me off before tonight. After the things she's told me about what McKee forced her to do, I've never asked her to do it, either. Maybe instead of assuming, I should have talked to her though. Because the feel of her lips wrapped around me? Pure heaven.
I groan and pull her closer, my mouth seeking hers. We kiss deeply for long moments, only breaking apart when we're both breathless and panting. I'm hard, aching. Christ, I want her relentlessly.
Savannah crawls over me, straddling my hips. "I love you," she whispers sweetly, her mouth trailing across my chest.
I close my eyes on a groan and let her touch me however she wants.
I love every minute of it.
Chapter Four
Fuel to Fire
I'm dead asleep when the alarm begins blaring through the apartment. Savannah cries out my name, her voice full of fear. I jerk upright, my mind instantly on alert, and reach for her.
She's not in bed with me.
"Savannah!" Pure terror rips through me. Leaping from the bed, I grab my gun out of the nightstand drawer and flip the safety off. I race out of the bedroom bare-ass naked, fear for my girl driving me.
I don't know what the fuck is going on, but the alarm is screaming and Savannah's not in bed. Memories gnaw at me, tearing through me as I sprint into the living room.
"Where the fuck is she?" I yell, pacing up and down, my hand clutched in my hair. Paulson's note rests on the kitchen table beside Savannah's purse with her house keys inside. Her car is still in the driveway, and she and Paulson are nowhere to be found. No one has seen or heard from either of them in over four hours.
Madeline and Katrina cry quietly in the background, but I can't focus on them. All I can think about—all I see—is Savannah and that broken look on her face when she fled from the ballroom.
"I don't know, man," Chris says.
He doesn't know. No one does.
Dear God, if Paulson hurts her….
"Fuck!" I roar, slamming my hands against the wall at the thought of him hurting her. She's been through so much already. If he touches her, puts so much as a mark on her, I'll blow his fucking head off.
"Jared," Lexi says when Madeline begins to cry harder, "calm down. You're scaring Maddi."
I spin to face her, fury pumping through me. "Do you think Savannah's not afraid right now?" I demand. "He took her and we let it happen! I let it happen." Oh God, that realization hurts. This is my fault. Had I not told her to go with him so I could deal with Toby McKee, none of this would have happened. She'd be with me right now, and the past two months of hell would be behind us. She'd be mine again.
Instead, I'm terrified I may never see her again. He could kill her, and she'll never know how much I love her. She'll never know that I never intended to marry Lexi, that I was trying to end this shit so I could bring her back home where she belongs.
My legs buckle and I sink to the floor, agony tearing through me at the thought of never seeing my girl again.
I have to find her. If something happens to her, I won't survive it. She owns me, body and soul.
"Please," I pray, tears burning at my eyes, "please don't take her from me."
"Savannah!" I yell again, shoving hard against the memories, pushing them down so I can focus on the here and now. The front door stands open, cool night air rushing into the room. I whip my head from side to side, searching frantically for my girl.
She's standing in the kitchen doorway in nothing but my dress shirt, sheer panic painted across her face. "Jared!" she cries out, racing toward me as soon as she lays eyes on me.
"Savannah."
She plows into me, her petite body trembling as I wrap my arms around her, careful of the weapon in my hands. Her legs wrap around my waist and she clings to me, shaking. I bury her face in my neck and hold on tight. My heart races, pounding fiercely. Fear gives way to an overwhelming sense of relief when she takes a shuddering breath against my skin, whispering my name.
She's safe.
I start across the room toward the front door and kick it closed before punching in the code to silence the security alarm. It cuts off mid-blare, leaving complete silence. My heart hammers in the quiet, seeming far too loud, and then the shrill ring of Savannah's phone rips through the room. I set my gun down, snatch the phone from the table where she left it when she got home, and swipe to answer.
"Yeah?"
"This is Jackie with All Secure America. We received an audible panic alarm at your residence. Is everything okay, sir?" a calm female voice asks.
"Yeah, I think so. Our front door is standing open, but the apartment is clear."
"Someone tried to get in," Savannah mumbles into my skin.
"Fucking hell." I tighten my grip on her, my mind spinning. Who the fuck tried to get in? And how the fuck did they get the door open? There's no damage as far as I can see, and the door was locked before I went to sleep. "Did you unlock the door, baby?" I ask Savannah.
"No."
"Son of a bitch."
"Do you need police dispatched, sir?" the alarm company representative asks.
"Yes, send them." I'm not taking any chances with Savannah's safety. I learned that lesson the hard way once. I won't make the same mistake again.
"Another representative is on the line with them now, sir. I need your name and passcode, please."
"My name is Jared Corbit. The passcode is You and I," I mumble into the phone, giving her the phrase Savannah chose when she moved into the apartment months ago. Even though I wasn't with her, she picked something that reminded her of me, the John Legend song I sang to her.
"You need to inform San Francisco P.D. that I'm an FBI agent, and I do have my service weapon in the home." I quickly rattle off my badge number and inform the representative that we'll be waiting in the living room with my weapon secured.
She repeats the information to confirm and then we disconnect.
I drop the phone and carry Savannah to the bedroom before sitting her on the edge of the bed.
"We need to get dressed, beautiful girl," I tell her when she refuses to let me go. I'm not sure if she hears me or not, but I have to pry her arms from around my neck. When I tilt her face up to mine, her eyes are wide and watery, full of terror. "Hey," I whisper, sinking to my knees in front of her. "It's okay, baby. I've got you."
"I was so scared," she whispers, her eyes locked on my face. She's still trembling, her body shaking with fear and adrenaline. "I couldn't sleep so I took our dishes to the kitchen. Someone rattled the door knob and then the door flew open. I thought… I thought someone was going to come in, so I hit the panic alarm."
"Did you see anyone?" I ask her, cupping her face in my hands and stroking her cheekbones.
She shakes her head. "I heard them though. I-I think someone said my name. I screamed for you and then they ran down the stairs." She burrows her face into my palm, exhaling shakily. "I was so scared," she says again.
"I know, baby, but I've got you." I rise from my knees and press my lips to her forehead, and then her eyes and nose, raining kisses all across her face. When I get to her lips, I brush mine across hers before whispering, "I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Savannah, I promise you that."
She shudders against me and then nods.
Sirens sound in the distance.
> I reluctantly stride to the dresser, grabbing the first thing I find—a pair of sweats—before pulling them on. I grab my shield off the top of the dresser and loop it around my neck before snagging a pair of Savannah's shorts for her. I have to hold on to her while she pulls them up her legs. She's still shaking.
Once we're more or less dressed, I pull her back into my arms and carry her into the living room, sinking down onto the couch with her. She burrows into my arms, her face buried in my neck, and just lets me hold her. The agent in me demands I try to find whoever tried to get in, but every other part of me demands I stay where I am and let San Francisco's officers deal with it. I don't want Savannah out of my sight, not when I don't know who tried to break in, and not when her body still trembles with the force of her fear.
When the police pound on the door several minutes later, I slide her off my lap to answer.
"Special Agent Corbit?" a detective close to my age asks, his hand lingering near his weapon. He's dressed casually in a black S.F.P.D. t-shirt and jeans, his badge and gun clipped to his belt. His sharp gaze lands on the shield hanging around my neck, his gray eyes flickering across my badge number before they meet mine.
"Yeah." I step aside for him and his older partner to enter and see a swarm of patrol cars below, red and blue lights still spinning even though they've downgraded and cut off the sirens. Fucking hell, they sent everybody.
Officers spread out around the complex, flashlights and weapons in their hands.
There's no way the media isn't going to get ahold of this, not when curious neighbors already gather on their balconies and in their doorways, watching the organized chaos below. We'll be lucky if this isn't all over the news in a matter of hours. Even if the officers don't talk, one of the neighbors will.
The younger detective, Cameron Lewis, wastes no time getting to the point. "What happened?" he asks after introducing himself and his partner, Desmond Jacoby. He stands midway between me and Savannah, his feet planted and his arms crossed over his chest. He's my height, made of lean muscle with dark lines of ink peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt.
I briefly explain the situation. "Whoever it was didn't make entry. When the panic alarm sounded and my fiancée screamed, they ran off."
Lewis looks to Savannah. "Did you see anyone?"
"No," she whispers, wrapping her arms around herself. She's so pale….
I make my way back to the couch and pull her into my lap. Forget decorum. My girl needs me.
"Did you hear anyone say anything?" Lewis prompts.
She burrows into me, squeezing her hands together. "I heard the doorknob wriggle and then the door flew open. I-I thought I heard someone say my name. When I hit the panic alarm and screamed for Jared, I heard someone running away."
"Any idea how many suspects there were? Male or female?" Jacoby asks, the first words he's spoken since walking in the door.
Savannah thinks about it for a moment. I run my hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her. Her shaking has subsided, but she's still afraid. I hate seeing her like this when there's nothing I can do about it.
"Only one. Male, I think," she says hesitantly.
"Was the door locked?"
"The door is always locked," I respond immediately. "I checked it before I went to bed."
Lewis and Jacoby share a look before Jacoby strolls over to examine the door, his badge clicking against his belt with every step. I already know what he'll find, and that pisses me off. Whoever tried to get in didn't damage the door. They either picked the lock, or someone on staff at the complex is going to have a very bad day, very soon.
Lewis turns back to us. "Do you know anyone who might have a grudge against either of you?" he asks, his expression neutral, stoic.
Savannah opens her mouth and then closes it.
"You know who we are," I mutter, spearing both officers with a hard look. If they didn't know, they wouldn't have sent every damn officer in the district and two detectives. "She was kidnapped and held hostage almost six months ago, and I could have pissed off any number of people in the course of my career. Reporters have had our names and photographs plastered across the news for weeks. It could have been anybody."
Lewis nods his dark head, unsurprised by my answer.
Jacoby steps outside and murmurs something into his radio. A moment later a voice comes through saying they haven't found anything. A neighbor saw someone running through the parking lot, but didn't get a good look, and can't be sure if the subject was male or female. Whoever it was is long gone now.
"Well," Lewis says, "it looks like you scared off the subject. It's unlikely they'll come back tonight, but we'll keep a patrol unit on the curb for the remainder of the night to be on the safe side. You might consider changing your locks tomorrow morning." He slides a card out of his pocket, jots something down—likely the case number—and lays it on the coffee table. "If you think of anything else or have any questions, call me."
"Yeah, I will." I climb to my feet, pulling Savannah up with me, and reach out to shake their hands.
"Do me a favor?" I ask quietly, walking Lewis and Jacoby to the door after Savannah says a polite, strained goodbye. "Try to keep this out of the papers for as long as possible. We're celebrating my brother's wedding tomorrow evening. I'd like to make it through the reception without my family having to wade through cameramen."
"We'll do what we can," Lewis says. "Where's the reception?"
I rattle off my parents' address, and he jots it down in his notebook.
"I'll see if we can't get a squad car or two out there to run interference for you in case they do show up," he says and then pauses for a moment, casting a glance over his shoulder at Savannah, and then he lowers his voice to a murmur. "She thinks she heard someone say her name. Until you can be sure you two aren't being targeted by someone, you might consider getting her out of here for a while."
"Yeah, thanks," I say, closing and locking the door behind them and then resetting the security alarm. I stand there for a long moment, praying this is a random crime by some random idiot and isn't connected to Paulson. I don't think either of us is ready to deal with another nightmare like that. But the knot in my stomach tells me that I'm not going to get lucky. They knew her name and where we live. That's not random.
"Come on, love," I tell Savannah, turning to her with my hand extended, "let's go lay down." I doubt I'll sleep again tonight, but I need her close. I need to hold her.
The look on her face tells me she needs exactly the same thing.
The sun has just climbed above the horizon when Savannah's eyes flutter open. They're rimmed in shadows, testament to how little she rested after I got her settled back into bed. If she had nightmares, she didn't share them with me, but she slept lightly. Every little sound jolted her awake.
"Hi," she whispers, watching me with a solemn expression when I reach out to brush strands of hair from her face.
"Hi yourself, beautiful girl." Leaning forward, I press my lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment before I ease back. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay."
"Are you?"
"Yes." Her eyes meet mine. "I'm not going to break over this, Jared. It scared me, but it's over. I'm fine."
I wish I shared her certainty, but I don't. All night long, her comment about hearing her name plagued me. Who was it? And how'd they get the door open without causing damage? I don't like not having those answers.
"I think we should stay at the Talbot Estate for a few days," I say.
Savannah's eyes widen. "Jared-"
I know she's going to argue, so I quickly place a finger over her lips. "Just listen. Please?"
She eyes me in the weak morning light for a moment, examining my face, and then nods.
"I almost lost you once," I tell her, cupping her face in my palm. "And maybe last night was a random crime, but I'm not willing to gamble with your safety when I don't know that for sure. I want you where I can keep you saf
e." I want her behind reinforced security gates and armed guards, both of which the Talbot Estate has. She has a home on the property. She'll get to spend time with the girls. And I can keep her safe. It's a win-win.
"No."
Pride wells in my chest even as frustration courses through me. I can count on one hand the number of times Savannah has outright told me no. I fucking love when she stands up for herself and what she needs, but dammit. Why now?
"I spent two years locked away in Italy, Jared," she says quietly. "And then I came back here and hid behind everything that was happening so I didn't have to deal with getting my life together. I know you're trying to protect me, but don't ask me to run and hide again now. I can't do that every time something goes wrong. It's not fair."
"Shit," I groan, flopping onto my back. Every instinct in me demands I make her give me this one thing… but I can't. I can't deny her anything, not even this.
"You can't expect us to stop living every time something bad happens," she whispers from beside me. "I've spent my life being afraid, and I'm finally happy. Because of you, I'm happy. We have a home here and a life. Please don't ask me to give that up, even temporarily." She traces the furrow between my eyebrows with a fingertip. "I trust you to keep me safe right here, in the home we've built for ourselves. Trust me, too."
Trust her? I'd kill for this girl.
Rolling toward her again, I crawl over her. She wraps her legs around my hips and stares up at me, waiting quietly for my decision. And I know if I tell her we're going back to the mansion, she won't fight me. She won't argue or be angry with me. She'll go because it's what I want… and somewhere along the way, she'll lose a little piece of herself and the newfound confidence shining in the depths of those bright eyes. And that? That I won't do to her. Ever.
"I can't deny you anything," I say, dropping my forehead to hers. "We'll stay here."
A bright smile spreads across her face, taking my breath away.
"For now," I whisper against her lips. "But if anything else happens, we're going."
"Deal."
All Cried Out (All Falls Down Book 2) Page 5
