Page 85 of Freeing Savannah

He didn’t reply with words. He just tightened his hold on her, embracing her like he’d made the decision long ago and he’d been waiting for her to finally see it, too.

The rest unraveled naturally. Clothes lost between rooms, kisses trailing across skin, bodies rediscovering each other like alanguage they’d never truly forgotten. They made love with the sun streaming through those hated windows, but for the first time, Savannah didn’t feel like a prisoner inside them.

Because Sawyer was there.

And finally,finally—she was where she was meant to be.

By his side. And free.

EPILOGUE

The neon glowof theHooch and Harmonysign pulsed like it had a heartbeat against the dusty Bell Creek night, casting a warm, familiar haze over the parking lot. It was Friday, and the joint was packed. Voodoo hadn’t seen the place this full since the Fourth of July chicken wing contest went sideways last year thanks to a grease fire and a drunk guy with a Roman candle.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight,hefelt different.

He stood with one arm slung around Savannah’s shoulders, the other nursing a cold beer as they surveyed the chaos inside. The old honky tonk was alive. Boots stomping to the fiddle-heavy band up front, laughter echoing off weathered wood beams, pool balls clacking up in the balcony.

And there was Savannah, right beside him, laughing with Cammie and Jeeves like she’d known them her whole life. Like she belonged. Because shedidnow.

He watched her with something bordering awe. She was the same girl he’d known growing up, sharp as a tack, spitfire sass, music in her soul, but now she was layered in a way that made him ache. Softer. Stronger. Touched by grief and fire andsurvival, and somehow still so damn luminous, he couldn’t stop looking. His Savi Moon.

Across the bar, Eggs was predictably holding court, one boot propped on a stool while he traded jabs with the bartender, Melli, behind the counter. "You’re pouring drinks too slow tonight," he drawled, grinning.

Melanie, who went by Melli, narrowed her eyes as she wiped a glass. “Maybe your mouth’s just moving too fast again.”

“I can slow it down for you if you’d like.”

“Oh, honey,” she said, tossing a bar rag at his chest, “I like my problems fast and easy. You’re just slow. And nothing but trouble.”

Voodoo chuckled. Same old dance. Someday, those two were going to combust, and he only hoped the bar was insured for it.

At the same time, Flint leaned against the high-top table, deep in conversation with Haley over what Voodoo could only assume was some classified, high-level cybersecurity jargon, given the hand gestures and serious expressions.

“Look,” Jeeves said, sliding next to him with a plate full of nachos, “I’m just saying, she makes you soft.”

Voodoo raised a brow. “You’re one to talk. You built Cammie a soundproof library room because she said your mouth was louder than her thoughts.”

“Exactly,” Jeeves grinned, unapologetic. “That’s love, baby.”

Just then, the door swung open and in strode Hoot, soaked from the waist down. “I swear to God,” Hoot said, shaking water off his pants as everyone turned to stare. “Met this wild woman settin’ up shop in the middle of the creek like she was starting her own nation. With a damn Liberty Bell.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jeeves asked.

“The damn thing was nearly full sized. Made from pennies, if you can believe it. Told me the bell ‘symbolized the awakening of the town’s spirit.’”

Eggs snorted, nearly choking on his beer. “You’re making this shit up.”

Hoot tossed back the shot Eggs had set in front of him. “She said her name was Lark. Told me the town needed her and the river spoke to her. Then immediately fell in and started floatin’ off like a log in a flood. Had to drag her back to shore and give her a lecture on basic hydrodynamics.”

Everyone roared. Even Savannah, who had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

Voodoo smiled.

This washome.

No government conspiracies. No piano bombs. No stalkers in the shadows or concert halls turned war zones.

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