Page 100 of Her Redeemed Protector

Al exits Savannah’s room with haste, suggesting he can’t bear to linger amid her belongings.

Now alone, I’m engulfed by the essence of Savannah’s presence. Her room remains untouched, the familiar scent of lavender lingering in the air. Drawn almost magnetically, I wander into the bathroom, my eyes scanning without purpose until they fix on something startling in the wastebasket. My knees go weak.

A positive pregnancy test.

A flood of emotions overwhelms me. Joy, fear, confusion. My heart wrenches, thoughts spiraling as I grasp the full impact of what this truly means. She’s pregnant with my baby. There’s a life growing inside her, our life.

Yet, this is no time for introspection. I steel myself, clenching my fists. The need to find her is more critical than anything else. Every ticking second is precious, and I can’t let my fears—or hopes—distract me.

I burst from the room, nearly crashing into Al, who’s anxiously searching for any sign of good news.

“Watch over Rodolfo,” I instruct, my voice firm with resolve. “I’m heading out to retrace her path to that riding school. There might be a clue or something that could pinpoint her last location.”

“Find her, Huxley,” Al’s voice breaks slightly.

“I will find her,” I promise.

As the road stretches toward Big Timber, I connect with Cora-Lee, Red Mark’s tech guru. She’s my best shot at tracking down Savannah’s last known whereabouts.

“Cee, I need a trace on Savannah’s cell. Can you manage that?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Cora-Lee’s usually composed voice wavers slightly. “Sure, Hux. What’s going on?”

“She’s missing,” I cut in sharply, no time for preambles.

A moment of silence, then I hear the clatter of keystrokes. “Okay, her phone’s off. Last signal pinged off a tower near Big Timber.”

“Coordinates, please, Cee.”

“Sending them, but keep in mind the search area is roughly 150 to 180 yards from the tower,” she cautions.

As the coordinates beep through to my phone, I veer onto a new path, mentally plotting our search operation.

“Need backup?” Cora-Lee’s voice is steady again.

“Get Chase on it unless he’s wrapped up elsewhere,” I respond, ready to coordinate with my trusty partner.

“On it, Comet. He’ll meet you there,” she confirms efficiently.

Ahead, a nearly invisible by-street branches off the main road. I pull over and exit the car with meticulous care, my senses razor-sharp for any hint of surveillance or dangerlurking in the shadows. Yet, the only presence here is the silence of the wild.

I sweep my flashlight across the area as the sun sinks low, creating long shadows and deepening the dusk.

My search initially turns up nothing unusual, until a specific detail catches my eye. Tire tracks. They tell a story of a truck and trailer maneuvering a sharp turn onto a narrow, unkempt road.

I follow the tracks until they lead me to her vehicle. The truck and trailer parked off to the side. A closer look confirms my deepest fears. It is Sav’s truck, and there are signs of a scuffle. Dark specks scatter on the path not far from the abandoned vehicle, likely blood. I swallow hard, my throat tight with the hope that it isn’t Savannah’s.

Suddenly, the silence shatters under the sound of hooves pounding against the ground.

No way!

Misty, Savannah’s mare, gallops toward me in clear distress. My heart tightens at the sight of her frantic approach, but I focus on calming the scared animal. “Easy, Misty,” I whisper, my hands steady as I pat her. The lead rope has snapped. No doubt, she set herself free.

“What happened to her, Misty?” I murmur once the mare calms, her sides heaving. She snorts and nods as if understanding.

I return to my car to prepare for what might come next. Having practically gone straight from my arrival, I only had what I packed for Bogota—minimal tactical gear. I slip into a ballistic vest and secure my Glock firmly in its holster and my survival knife in its sheath. I note our proximity to Lakefall as I check the map. My gut tells me the Blackwater Brutes are behind Savannah’s disappearance, manipulated by unseenhands. I swear to God, they’ve never faced an enemy like me. They’re in for one hell of a shock.

I fetch Savannah’s jacket from the truck, the fabric still carrying her scent. I present it to Misty, knowing the strong bond between rider and horse and trusting the mare’s keen sense of smell. I’m convinced she can lead me directly to Savannah if we’re close enough.

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