Page 72 of Freeing Savannah

“You good, Savi?” she jumped at the sudden voice in her ear. Sawyer had given her one of their comms for a “just in case” scenario. She wore the crescent shaped hair clip as well, giving her an added measure of protection. “Migraine?”

She raised the champagne flute to cover her mouth, preventing anyone from seeing her speak. “How’d you know?”

“I can see it,” he replied, his voice soft and gentle, filling her with warm fuzzies. That was her Sawyer. He’d always “seen” everything about her. Apparently, he still did.

“I’ll be better when we can leave here,” she stated.

“Soon.”

Another group of businessmen approached, each with words of praise in their accented English. After several minutes, she needed a break. She murmured an excuse and stepped away from the knot of men, crossing toward the far corner of the ballroom where the lights dimmed and the chatter faded. Her fingers brushed the smooth curve of the wooden pendant in her pocket—yes, this gown had pockets!—trying to anchor herself with the memory of the day he’d given it to her.

This will protect you when I can’t.The echo of his promise, soft and sweet, lingered in her thoughts. If he only knew how much that little pendant had done for her over the years. It was like he’d infused it with some kind of magical charm. Like Voodoo. The thought brought a sudden smile to her lips.

“Going somewhere?”

The voice slid through her like a dagger wrapped in velvet, killing her smile in an instant. She turned.

The Senator.

His expression was taut, stretched too tightly across his face, like he was barely holding something in. Panic, maybe. Or rage. Probably both.

“I don’t want a scene,” he said low, grabbing her arm. She winced as his grip tightened, a vise around her wrist, painfully strong.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already pulling her toward a side panel along the wall. Before she could shout, a door swung open and closed behind them, muting the sounds of the reception.

The service corridor was narrow and dimly lit. Smelling faintly of cleaning solution and old wood polish. Aside from the bodyguard that was always by the Senator’s side, she was now alone with a man who was clearly at the end of his rope if he dared to act in front of all those people.

“You need to listen,” he snapped, voice trembling not with weakness but with fury barely contained. “You’ve ruined everything.”

Savannah yanked her arm back. With a pretense of pushing the hair from her face, she located the large sapphire adorning her hair clip and surreptitiously pressed it, proud of herself for remembering. Then she met the Senator’s steely gaze, her own eyes unwavering, a silent challenge passing between them. Without words, she was declaring that this time she wouldnever again be intimidated into submission. “You sent someone to frame me forespionage, andI’mthe one who ruined everything?”

“I had aplan!” His voice echoed off the cold tile. “All you had to do was stay quiet. Smile. Play the fucking piano. Let me handle the real work. But you couldn’t do that, could you? You had to get involved. Stick your nose in. Bring that damnboywith you?—”

“His name is Sawyer,” she hissed. “Not ‘boy.’”

The Senator’s face twisted. “You think he cares about you? He’s using you. Just like me. Just like everybody around you. You were supposed to a tool—an asset. Not a liability.”

“You wanted to burn me to save your career,” she said, quiet now. The words hurt coming out. “You’ve been using me all along.”

He advanced a step and grabbed her once more, his fingers digging painfully into her wrist. His eyes gleamed. “You think they’re going to protect you when this all crashes down? You think those men out there care? They don’t. Your mother doesn’t either. And I certainly don’t give a fuck about you. Listen here, little girl. If I go down, I’ll make damn sure you go down in flames with me.”

Her back hit the wall. Her heart was pounding now, but she didn’t flinch. “You’re scared,” she said softly. “You know it’s over. You’re unraveling.”

A stinging backhand sent her head reeling back, the impact against the wall jarring her senses and leaving her breathless. The swift and brutal blow took her completely by surprise and she saw stars for a moment. He’d been abusive, yes, but he’d never hit her before. His abuse was verbal. Not physical.

The door behind them burst open.

Sawyer. With Hoot behind him. Then Eggs rushed into the hall from the other end.

Guns drawn, faces dark with fury.

Hoot quickly dispatched the bodyguard, who was no match for the former special forces operative.

“Youtouchher again,” he growled, voice low and deadly, “and I’ll make sure you never raise your hand to anyone ever again.”

The Senator froze.

Savannah stepped away from the wall, breathing hard. Her gaze locked with Sawyer’s, the air between them crackling not with fear, but with somethingearned. Somethingsharp and solid and steady.

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