Saving Savannah (Haven Book 3)

by Laylah Roberts

  He should be grateful. But a part of him wondered if Savannah would feel better knowing Stanton was dead.

  Would he?

  He stood with a sigh.

  She’d retreated into herself, and he felt like he had no idea how to get through to her. But if that’s what she needed to do to get by, then who was he to say she was wrong? They all had their own coping mechanisms.

  Logan tinkered. Max worked. Savannah retreated.

  He pushed the door open then strode down the stairs and out the front door. He should go check on Savannah but every time he saw her, a part of him died inside. Guilt ate away at him every time he looked at her, until looking at her become painful.

  Jesus. What kind of a man was he? What sort of husband couldn’t even look at his own wife just because he felt guilty over not keeping her safe? Over not being able to provide for her?

  “Where you going?” Logan looked over from where he stood by the tractor, dark fluid on the ground.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Max barked.

  Logan narrowed his eyes. “Hose blew. Need a new one.”

  “Of course, it does. Like every other fucking thing here.”

  “Hey, what’s going on? Isn’t it your day to stay with Savannah?” Logan asked, storming towards him as Max climbed into the cab of his truck. He grabbed the door as Max went to shut it.

  “I’ve got things to do.”

  “Max, we need to talk about—”

  “There’s nothing to fucking talk about.”

  “Yeah, there is, and denying it won’t make it go away.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Max sneered. “You’re the king of not wanting to talk about shit.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed. “This is about Savannah. We need to figure out what to do.”

  “I don’t know what to do! Maybe you should figure shit out for once without relying on me!” Max slammed the door shut and sped away. He glanced back to find Logan staring after him.

  “Fuck!” He slammed his hand down against the steering wheel.

  Chapter Two

  Max walked into the kitchen, raising his eyebrows as he saw Logan pull a roast from the oven. “What’s this?”

  “Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn.”

  “All Savannah’s favorites.”

  “Yep, and I went into town and got her one of those cheesecake’s she likes from Milly’s. She’s got to start eating.”

  “You think this will do it?” Max asked.

  “You got a better idea?” Logan bit out, his frustration clear. “If we don’t do something then she’s going to fade away before our very eyes. She’s pulling further and further away from us.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” But what the fuck could they do if she wouldn’t talk to them?

  What would you have done in the past?

  He’d have insisted that she talk to them. He’d have sat her down, not letting her leave until she got everything off her chest and if she still held back, he’d spank her.

  Well, he couldn’t do that now. The last thing she needed was for him to threaten her with a spanking.

  But he couldn’t figure out how to get through the barriers she’d put between them. He hated this. She was their wife. There wasn’t supposed to be this distance.

  “I’ll go get her. She was taking a bath.”

  Max nodded and started dishing the food out onto her plate then his. When Logan returned, Savannah was beside him, her face pale, her eyes slightly unfocussed. But when she saw him, a hint of warmth entered her eyes. Then she looked down and away. As though she didn’t want him to see what she was thinking.

  “Logan cooked your favorites,” Max said and held out a chair for her.

  She sat, giving him a smile of thanks. Her eyes widened as she saw all the food on the plate in front of her. “Wow, this looks amazing.”

  “Good. Eat,” Logan barked.

  Max sent him a warning look, and his brother turned away, his jaw clenched tightly.

  Max watched her push the food around on her plate, his frustration growing at his inability to help her. He wanted to demand that she talk to them. And he wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and hide her away so nothing would ever hurt her again.

  Pushing his worries to one side, he started to tell her about his day, making certain to keep things light. Little by little the tension in her shoulders eased. She even took a few bites of food.

  It was almost normal. Sitting here, talking about their day. Logan remained mostly silent, adding a few things here and there.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  Her shoulders tightened.

  “Good.”

  “What did you do?” he pressed.

  “Not much.”

  Christ, it was like getting blood out of a stone. He shared a frustrated look with Logan.

  “Do you need to talk to us about anything?”

  Max kept his gaze on Savannah. She kept her own gaze on her plate of food. “No. I’m good.”

  Liar.

  He ground his teeth together. Lying was something that definitely would have landed her over his lap in the past, with him blistering her ass.

  But was he any better? Wasn’t he lying to both her and Logan about the state of the ranch? Not saying anything was sort of a lie.

  “Thanks for dinner. I think I’ll go take a bath. I have a headache.” She strode out of the room.

  Logan stood and grabbed her plate. “She ate three damn bites. Plus, she just had a bath; she’s avoiding us.”

  “I know. Things will get better. She just needs time.”

  Logan raised his eyebrows. “How much time?”

  Max stood. “I don’t know. I’ve got bookwork to do.”

  “Seems like everyone is running from me lately,” Logan muttered.

  ***

  The phone rang, startling her where she sat in the living room, staring down at a magazine. Funny, she didn’t even remember picking it up. It was one of those fashion ones Laken had brought over for her.

  She’d been slightly intimidated by Laken the first time she’d met her. She was gorgeous and no matter what she wore, she always looked like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. Savi knew she’d never come close to looking that stylish or elegant. But after getting to know her, she’d come to realize she was sweet and funny. Laken and Lila were now Savi’s closest friends, especially since Amanda had moved away.

  She walked over to the phone, picking it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello? Who’s this?” The voice demanded, as though they hadn’t been the one to place the call.

  “It’s Savannah. Hello, Grandma Evie,” she said, recognizing the older woman’s voice.

  “Oh, Savannah, it’s you,” the older woman said. “I thought I had the wrong house. They make it so hard to read the number on these darn phones nowadays. How are you, dear?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied automatically. “Would you like to speak to Max or Logan?”

  Grandma Evie was actually Max and Logan’s grandma. She was the only one from their family who’d attended their wedding. Which was better than Savannah’s side. None of her relatives had bothered to come.

  “I just called to wish them a happy birthday, dear. If they’re out working, that’s fine. Just wanted to make sure they got my card in the mail. I slipped a little something in there for them.”

  A little something was a fifty-dollar bill. She did it every year. Max and Logan tried to convince her she didn’t need to give them money or at least not to send it in the mail, but she wouldn’t listen.

  “But their birthday is September twelfth,” Savannah said.

  “That’s today,” Grandma Evie said gently. “Savannah, are you sure you’re okay, honey?”

  “I’m fine.” How had she lost track of time? How had she forgotten their birthday?

  “Yes, you just said that. Do you need me to come out there?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll get Max for you.”

Savannah walked past the calendar on her way out, staring at the date. September twelfth.

  Five weeks since she’d been taken. And her husbands’ birthday.

  She searched the house, starting to feel a little panicked she couldn’t find Max anywhere. Wasn’t it his day to stay with her? She’d tried to convince them they didn’t need to stick close by, but it had been a half-hearted effort. She wasn’t ready to be alone.

  “Max? Max?” she called out, aware of the rising panic in her voice. “Max?”

  Where was he? He wouldn’t leave her, would he?

  She stopped in the hallway, looking at the front door. Maybe he was outside. She swallowed heavily. She hadn’t been outside since her last doctor’s visit.

  That was . . . oh God, if today was September twelfth, then that had to have been two weeks ago. She licked her lips, staring at the door. She could go outside. She could step out there whenever she liked. It wasn’t like the bogeyman was waiting outside to pounce on her.

  It was broad daylight. There was no one around. Max had to be nearby. She took a step closer. Sweat broke out across her brow. Her hands shook. She brought the phone to her ear.

  “Um, Grandma Evie?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I can’t seem to find Max. Can I have him call you back?”

  “Yes, of course. Savannah, I hope you feel better soon.”

  She hung up. She wasn’t ill. The walls of the entryway seemed to close in on her, and she was assaulted by a wave of dizziness. Breath coming in fast pants, she swayed, certain she was going to pass out.

  She turned away and raced back into the kitchen where she slipped into a chair at the table. She leaned her elbows on the wooden table, holding her head with her hands as she let out a sob.

  Oh, God.

  She was afraid of going outside? Why? Stanton hadn’t kidnapped her from here, it had been miles away, closer to Freestown. So why would she fear leaving the house?

  Richard Stanton had only held her for a few short hours before her men had rescued her. But those hours had been enough for him to terrorize and hurt her. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to stop when she saw someone flagging her down. Logan had warned her time and again to be careful, to not trust too easily.

  She’d learned the hard way he was right.

  She could still remember the way her arms had ached with the strain of them being tied above her head. In pain and exhausted from his beatings, she’d lean her weight on her arms only to cry out in agony at the pull on her muscles. He’d laughed at her pain. He’d enjoyed it.

  She swallowed, feeling ill.

  She didn’t know how Laken had survived being held for three days by that bastard. Her friend still blamed herself for Savannah being taken, even though they’d told her it wasn’t her fault.

  Poor Laken. Three years ago, she’d been kidnapped after leaving a BDSM club in New York. For three days, she’d been beaten, whipped, cut, and terrified.

  And she’d never had any idea that her tormentor was her boss. He’d worn a mask and used something to disguise his voice, then, afterwards, he’d played the part of concerned employer. Even helping Laken move to a more secure apartment and paying for a counsellor.

  Sick bastard.

  He’d watched Laken for years. Then when she’d moved to Haven and got involved with Duncan who was a Dom, he’d come after her once more.

  Unable to get to her, he’d taken Savannah instead.

  She shuddered.

  Since he’d been captured, the cops had been looking into the disappearance of his ex-wife again. She went missing a month after they separated along with her boyfriend. The police now believed he killed her in a fit of rage after discovering that she’d been going to BDSM clubs with her new boyfriend.

  Her stomach bubbled, and she took a deep breath, trying to repress the memories, the feel of the whip as it bit into her skin, the searing pain, the sound of her pain-filled screams, and his laughter.

  That protective shell she’d wrapped around herself was cracking. The memories slipping in. She tried to pull it around herself. Bury everything deep. But she couldn’t. The emotions were too raw, too painful.

  She rubbed her hand over her face, trembling.

  She tensed as she heard the door open.

  “Savannah? Where are you, love?”

  Max.

  “I-in here.”

  He walked in, and she took in his gorgeous face. He looked tired, and his shoulders were slightly slumped. Was he okay?

  Max was always the one who held them all together. Who dragged Logan away from whatever project was keeping him occupied and made him enter the land of the living. He was the one who always calmed her when she was in a panic or upset.

  But there was a distance between them now. One she’d put there, she realized. With her need to protect herself from any more pain, she’d pushed away her men. Now, they looked at her differently. They acted differently.

  When was the last time they’d told her they loved her? Threatened to spank her? Usually, they wouldn’t put up with her shutting them out.

  She took another sip of her coffee to hide her reaction.

  Did they still want her?

  She wished Max would reach out and touch her. Kiss her. Order her to talk to him in that low voice he used when he wanted instant obedience. He hadn’t always gotten it, of course, but that was part of the fun.

  Max poured coffee into a cup for himself before filling a glass of water and placing it in front of her, removing her cup of coffee.

  “I was still drinking that,” she protested.

  “You’ve got a headache. You keep rubbing your temples.”

  She hadn’t even realized she was doing that.

  “You know caffeine makes your headaches worse. You need water and rest.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  She waited for him to get all growly. To give her that stare that meant she better do what he said. And fast. But he just sat across from her, looking into his coffee.

  As though he couldn’t stand to look at her.

  Her mother had driven every man in her life away with her constant drama and cries for attention. Savannah wasn’t like her mother. She wasn’t going to drive her men away. She wasn’t going to be a burden.

  The shell she’d built to protect herself had just been a Band-Aid. It hadn’t solved anything. It was time to stop being a victim. Time to stop hiding from her problems. She was stronger than this, damn it. She’d fix what was broken, and everything would go back to the way it was.

  It had to.

  Max studied Savannah with worry. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin pale. She looked tired and worn out.

  He wished he could take her away from all this. A vacation. Somewhere where they could relax and try to heal some of the pain they all felt.

  “Is everything okay, Max?” She reached over, and, for the first time since she’d first woken up in the hospital, she touched him voluntarily. A surge of hope filled him as she clasped his hand, holding it tight.

  “Of course, it is, love,” he lied. No matter what, she’d never know the depth of the trouble they were in. She knew money was tight, it always had been so there was no keeping that from her. But he didn’t want her worrying about this on top of everything else going on.

  She cleared her throat. “I tried to find you. Grandma Evie called.”

  “Sorry. I was just checking on the horses. Is she okay? Did she want something?”

  “To wish you guys happy birthday.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

  “Me too,” she said quietly. “I’m really sorry I didn’t remember.”

  “Hey.” Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he reached out to cup her chin in the palm of his hand. He raised her face, smiling gently. “No big deal, love. It’s just another day. Truthfully, I don’t really need the reminder I’m another year older.”

  “I could bake you a cake,” she offered.

  He winced. “Using the same recipe as last year?”

  “Yes, but this time I swear I’ll check that it’s sugar first before I put it in.”

  “I like salt, love, but not in my chocolate cake.”

  It was a ghost of a smile, but a smile nonetheless. A real smile. Maybe she was getting better. Maybe she could get through this with a bit more time and patience.

  If only he could figure out some way to fix all his other problems, then he might be able to sleep again.

  Chapter Three

  Savannah stared at the front door. It loomed in front of her. Dark and uninviting. She took a step forward. Blackness narrowed her vision and she swallowed back her nausea.

  This was ridiculous!

  She forced herself to move closer. Stop being a wimp. All she had to do was take one step outside. Just one. It wasn’t that hard. She’d walked in and out of this house thousands of times. But now it was like there was an invisible barrier she couldn’t cross.

  With a trembling hand, she unlocked the door.

  Oh, God. Oh, God.

  Idiot. Nothing bad was going to happen to her just because the door was unlocked.

  “You can do this, Savannah. You are not going to spend the rest of your life stuck in this house. Now, get a grip.”

  All she needed was some tough love. And maybe some medication—lots of medication.

  Savannah opened the door, her breath leaving her lungs. She forced herself to hold the door open when all she wanted to do was slam it shut, lock it, and race to her bed where she could hide.

  I’ve been hiding for weeks. No more.

  Did something move in the bushes? Oh God, was someone there? They could be watching her . . . ready to take her.

  Her throat constricted, making her gasp for air. Her head spun. The edges of her vision blurred and grew darker.

  Knowing she was about to pass out, Savannah quickly shut the door, twisting the lock with fingers that shook. Bile gathered in her mouth. She raced into the kitchen, barely making it to the sink before vomiting. She sobbed with each violent heave. There was little in her stomach except for coffee and water, and it tasted terrible coming back up.

  Finally, she sank to the floor. She drew her legs up against her chest and rested her forehead on her knees.

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