I snap my mouth closed, trying not to bare my teeth at him like a crazy person. I'm already on the verge of losing my shit. I have a feeling this asshole is about to make my day that much more difficult.
"Who the hell let you through?" he snaps as if on cue.
"I'm Jared Corbit, Savannah Martin's fiancé."
"I don't give a shit. You shouldn't be in here. This is a crime scene, not a nightclub," he barks, his hand hovering near the Taser holstered on his hip. He completely ignores the badge hanging from a chain around my neck.
"No shit."
He narrows his eyes on me, his stance shifting when he registers my tone. His hand slides along the grip of the Taser, his shoulders going back. He's just looking for a reason to get physical with someone in this garage. Even though I know better, part of me aches to give him what he wants by getting in his face. He's standing between me and my girl, refusing to let me through. If he doesn't move out of my way, I'll move him. It's that simple.
"Let him through, Whitfield," Lewis says from behind me before I can say or do anything else.
Whitfield glances over my shoulder at Lewis before his gaze comes back to me. Hostility brims in his beady eyes as he glares at me, but he takes a small step to the side. I brush past him, ignoring the grunt he gives me as my gaze lands on Savannah again. She's out of the SUV, waiting for me. The haunted, fearful look in her eyes kills me. It's the same way she looked when she first fled from McKee, like she's barely holding on.
"Jared," she says, her eyes filling with tears. My name quivers on her lips.
Without a word, I open my arms for her. She races across the few feet separating us and flings herself against my chest. I have to plant my feet to keep from stumbling back a step as I catch her, wrapping her up in my embrace, not caring what's happening around us. The only thing I care about in this moment is her and the way her little body trembles against me as she clings, burrowing into me on a shaky inhale.
"I've got you," I whisper, burying my face in her hair. I breathe her in, letting that vanilla and sex combination twist through me. It settles me, takes the edge off the rage brewing in my soul, allowing me to breathe through it. I'm still on the verge of losing my shit, but I won't. Not with her in my arms. She needs me, and she will always come first.
"Who's doing this?" Her voice breaks on the question, a small sob escaping.
"Shh, baby," I whisper, my heart aching for her. She deserves so much better than this, than fear and pain and that asshole ruining what should have been a day of happy memories. Alicia, Kit, and Evans close ranks around us as I rock her back and forth. I meet Drake's gaze, see the sympathy and anger in his dark eyes. I nod at him, a silent thanks for looking after my girl for me, and an acknowledgement that I owe him.
Lexi and Maddi break away from the detective and make their way over to us, both of them subdued and solemn. Maddi slips her hand into her sister's, her big, blue eyes darting around the parking garage, trying to take in all the activity. Her lower lip trembles. And that pisses me off, too, that this little twelve-year-old girl who's already been through hell once again has a reason to fear because of McKee.
Savannah whimpers into my chest for several long moments before taking a deep, shuddering breath. Her trembling subsides. She stays in my arms for another minute before slowly pulling back. Her eyes are wide and watery when she glances up at me, the usually bright brown now dull and full of sadness. She's not crying though, instead holding it all in.
I don't know what to say to make this easier for her, so I don't try. I simply press my lips to her forehead and whisper, "I love you." against her flushed skin.
"I love you too." She pulls back again, looking at me. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
She flinches at the iron in my tone, a single tear slipping down her cheek. I instantly feel like an ass for yelling at her. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and then another, tamping down on the hatred and anger threatening to consume me.
"It's not your fault, beautiful girl," I say when I feel a little calmer, cracking my eyes open to look at her. "None of this is your fault."
She bites her bottom lip, uncertainty in her gaze.
"Don't." I reach out and run my fingertip down her cheek, erasing the single tear that fell, wishing I could erase the doubt from her mind just as easily. She takes so much on herself, blames herself for not being strong enough or brave enough or smart enough or fast enough when, in reality, she's all of those things and more. "You're the master of your own fate," I whisper, the same words I've said to her a thousand times since she asked me if I'd ever read Invictus. I hadn't then, but I've read it a thousand times since. That line serves as a reminder to her that the past is the past and she's not the girl McKee tried to turn her into.
She stares at me for a long time, her eyes locked on mine. I can see her fighting, trying to argue down the voice of doubt telling her that this is her fault, that she's the reason the media is gathered outside the parking garage and chaos has claimed our lives once again. Her expression firms, resolve burning out that haunted, brittle look. Finally, she nods, her shoulders going back.
I pull her to me, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as pride for her swells in my chest again. She nestles against me, not speaking as Lewis makes his way toward our group. He's been talking with one of the other detectives on scene, getting caught up on what they know.
"Ms. Martin," he says, inclining his head politely at Savannah when he reaches us. He gives the rest of the group a cursory nod before turning back to me and my girl. "I know you've already been through this with Detective Johnson, but I'd like to hear what happened today."
Savannah takes a breath, licks her lips, and then nods. "I dropped my car off here about ten this morning, and took the trolley to Union Square to go shopping for my wedding dress with the girls and Drake, um, Mr. Evans. We were there until about one this afternoon, and then we decided to go get lunch. When we came back here to get our cars afterward, there was a patrol car here. The officer said someone had seen the car and called them." She stares at Lewis blankly and then shakes her head, trying to clear it. "I don't know who would do this," she says. "I haven't done anything to anyone."
Lewis casts me a quick glance, one brow arched in silent question.
"She doesn't know," I murmur, causing everyone in our group to turn and look at me. Savannah's gaze burns hot. I don't want to tell her this, but I no longer have a choice, not after this. Taking a deep breath, I turn to her. "When I met with Richardson the other day, he told me Toby McKee had slipped past Border Patrol the day before. He's back in California, sweet girl."
Kit gasps, and a curse flies from Lexi's lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I see little Maddi burrowing deeper into her sisters as if to hide from the mere mention of McKee. Alicia puts her arm through Kit's and squeezes. Evans stands silently behind the girls, shielding them. My attention is focused on Savannah though, on the play of emotion flickering across her face: confusion, realization, fear, and finally… disappointment.
I swallow hard, hating how guilty I feel with that look on her face. She doesn't say anything to me. She doesn't yell at me or accuse me or anything. She just looks at me, disappointed and sad.
"Oh," she says finally.
I feel like an asshole for not preparing her.
"Your fiancé and I have been canvassing your apartment complex today, trying to find any witnesses that may have seen him lurking around since returning to California. So far, we haven't found anything, but it'll be a hell of a coincidence if the attempted break-in and this aren't related to his return, Ms. Martin," Lewis says, his voice quiet, calm. I get the feeling he's almost as pissed about this as I am, but not a hint of it shows on his face or in his gray eyes. He's in full-on cop mode, stoic and expressionless. "Have you noticed anyone following you in the last few days? Seen anything out of the ordinary?"
"No," she whispers, shaking her head.
Lewis looks aroun
d our group, waiting until everyone echoes Savannah's response before he nods and reaches into the breast pocket of his button-down. He pulls out a little evidence baggie and holds it out. "We found this in your car."
There's a torn slip of paper inside the bag, SOON scrawled across it in bold letters.
"Motherfucker," I swear, seeing red. What does he mean "soon"? Soon what?
Savannah flinches again, cowering. "I-I didn't write that."
"I didn't think so." Lewis slips the baggie back into his pocket and his mask cracks. Frustration dances through his eyes, anger turning them a hard gray color. He sighs heavily, runs a hand over his head, and then curses. "It's going to be a while before we're finished up here. There's no point in you hanging around with reporters gathering out there. We already have your statements, so you're free to go."
"What about her car?" Lexi asks, cringing when I turn my glare on her.
"We'll move it to the city garage for further processing." He jots a phone number on one of his cards and holds it out to Savannah. I reach out and grab it for her, not bothering to look at it before shoving it into my pocket. "Call that number in the morning and they'll let you know when your insurance company can come by to do their thing. Once the car is processed, we'll let your insurance people know whether we'll be holding it for trial."
"My books are in the car," Savannah says, her voice wooden. Her gaze flickers to mine and then hurriedly away. "I need them for class on Tuesday."
Lewis gives her a sympathetic look. "I'll try to have them ready for you tomorrow, but it's a holiday weekend. I can't make any promises."
"My assignments are in there," she whispers.
I have to take another deep breath when her voice cracks. Yet again, McKee is screwing with her education, jeopardizing something important to her.
"I'll take care of it," I promise her.
She glances at me again, giving me a sad frown.
"Corbit," Lewis says, jerking his head to the side. "I need a minute."
I hesitate, torn between finding out what he needs and staying with Savannah. She makes the choice for me, moving away from me. As soon as she's out of my arms, the girls surround her, pulling her into a wall of support. I cut my eyes at Evans who nods, letting me know he's got them.
I stroll toward Lewis who waits a few feet away, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
"We don't have any witnesses, but we've been able to pull fingerprints. Chances are they belong to her and anyone else who's ridden in her car recently," he says, "but we'll start running them as soon as we can. You think any more about what I said the other night?"
"She doesn't want to leave," I mutter, raking a hand through my hair.
"I get that," he says quietly, "but for her safety, you need more than a burglar alarm and a few locks standing between her and McKee. Not to mention, there's a whole bunch of cameras out there, pointed this way. They know she's involved, and there is no way to keep them from seeing the car when we haul it out of here."
"How the fuck did they even know to be here?"
"How do they find out anything? They have scanners and they use them." Lewis shrugs. "There's only so much we can do to keep shit out of the public eye. If they hit us with an FOI request, you know damn well we can't refuse to hand over the reports."
Don't I know it. The Freedom of Information Act has made the media a nightmare to deal with. They wave the damn Act around like it's inviolable and offers unrestricted access to every aspect of policing, regardless of whether or not the information they're after will jeopardize a case. They're relentless.
"We'll be at the Talbot Estate until this blows over," I say quietly, resigned. As much as I want to give Savannah what she wants and remain in our apartment, I can't. Not this time. Not with that note taunting me. "You need anything else from me?"
"Nah, man. I've got it handled. Take care of your girl tonight. I'll pick you up at the Talbot Estate in the morning and we'll start canvassing the shops here. See if we can't find a security camera that puts him here today. I'll ask our traffic enforcement guys to start going through the red-light and street cameras to see if they can shake anything loose as well."
"Yeah, thanks."
He and I shake hands before parting ways. I head back to the group clustered around Savannah, and he goes back toward the car. Whitfield glares at me from his place by the hood of the now-destroyed Charger. I merely shake my head and walk away, not in the mood for a pissing match with him right now.
Savannah barely spares me a glance when I stop beside her. I'm not sure what bothers me most: that she won't look at me, or that it's my fault for not telling her about McKee as soon as I found out.
"Can you give us a ride?" I ask Alicia.
"Where's your car?"
Savannah does look at me then, curiosity sparking in those bright brown eyes.
"At the Northern Precinct office," I mutter, biting back a frustrated curse when she turns away from me again, disappointment drifting through those expressive eyes again. I turn to Lexi and Evans. "We need to run by the apartment to pick up some things, and then we're coming to the mansion."
"I'll make sure the heat is on at Savannah's for you," Lexi says, reaching out to squeeze my arm. "It's supposed to be cold tonight."
"Yeah, thanks." I blow out a breath, rake a hand through my hair, and turn to face Savannah. "Let's go, beautiful girl."
She's walking toward Alicia's car before the words even leave my lips.
Chapter Nine
Look After You
I wake with a jolt sometime after midnight, sitting upright in bed. I don't know what's shocked me out of sleep, but as soon as I realize Savannah isn't in bed with me, I'm on my feet, my heart pounding erratically. Stumbling around in the dark, I collide with an old steamer trunk situated at the end of the bed, and then ram into a table beside the door.
"Sonofafuckingwhore," I growl when I stub my toe on the door-stop, remembering that we're in Savannah's house at the Talbot Estate, not in our apartment. The layout is different, and things are situated in places I wasn't expecting. When the doorknob digs into my hip, I slap the wall in search of the light switch, trying not to kill myself. Muted light immediately brightens the room. I blink against the haze and then hobble out of the bedroom, looking for my girl.
The rest of the small house is dark. Savannah's nowhere to be found.
"Fuck," I curse, my mind instantly homing in on where she's at. I reverse course to the bedroom to snag a blanket off the end of the bed before jerking on a pair of sweats and shoes, and then make my way back through the house and out the front door. Relief washes through me in a warm flood when I see Savannah.
She's curled up on the porch railing, her back against one of the wide wooden beams, with a quilt wrapped around her shoulders as she stares out into the darkness. She turns her head to look at me when I pull the door closed to keep the cold snap of the wind out of the house, but she doesn't say anything. She simply glances at me and then turns back around.
Since we left the Haight with Alicia this afternoon, she's spoken two entire sentences to me. The first being that she had everything she needed when we stopped at the apartment to pack up some things, and the second that she wasn't very hungry when I asked if she wanted dinner. She spent half the evening throwing up, but wouldn't let me take care of her. The silence and distance is agonizing, brutal. Not hearing her voice is killing me, and I don't even know where to begin apologizing or making this right for her.
I make my way across the porch and wrap the blanket in my hands around her, unconcerned with the way the wind blows in frigid bursts across my naked chest.
"Thanks." She yawns and lays her head back against the beam, looking back out into the night.
The Talbot Estate is massive, the grounds sprawling across almost a mile on the edge of the Hillsborough district just outside of San Francisco. The manor itself sits off to the left, a cobblestone walkway between the main house and the smaller guest house Matthew
willed to Savannah. Decorative lanterns light the way, but the rest of the property is shadowy and dark, the sliver of moon overhead providing little illumination through the fog rolling in. I don't think Savannah is looking at anything specific anyway. She comes out here when she needs to think, to breathe. I never before questioned why, but I find myself curious now. What draws her out the doors after dark?
I stand beside her for long moments, trying to see what she sees, to feel what she feels. Her soft breaths, the creak of the chains on the porch swing, the hoot of an owl, and the rustle of the wind through the trees are the only sounds. It's peaceful, soothing. I think, for me, that has more to do with the fact that she's here than anything.
Since the moment she returned to San Francisco, I've found that I'm at peace when she's near. When she first arrived, I'd make my way over here at night under the guise of checking the property to sit beside her, simply because being around her made me feel calm, still. The weight on my shoulders lessened around her. I could think when she was beside me. From day one, she's been everything right in my world, even when everything else was falling apart. She still is.
"Please talk to me," I whisper, my throat raw and my heart bleeding. "Yell at me. Tell me I'm an asshole, whatever you need to do. But please, don't shut me out. Not knowing what you're thinking or how you feel is killing me."
Savannah frowns over at me, a little furrow between her brows. "You aren't an asshole, Jared."
"Aren't I?" I hang my head, guilty and just really fucking sorry for not telling her about McKee. "I should have told you the minute Richardson informed me he was back." Maybe if I had, she would have been prepared for what happened today. She wouldn't have been caught off-guard, completely clueless.
"You didn't trust me," she says quietly.
All Cried Out (All Falls Down Book 2) Page 10
