Dirty Delivery (Bound & Delivered #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Savannah

I’ve never been one to sit still for long, but being cooped up in Rylan’s house for days on end is a special kind of torture. The silence is oppressive, and the endless ticking of the clock is a constant reminder of just how little control I have over my life right now. I’m restless, pacing the hallways like a caged animal, and it’s not just the physical confinement getting to me. It’s the mental strain of everything.

But . . . there’s something else. Something lighter, freer, that I can’t quite put into words. It hits me as I’m staring out the window, watching the world carry on without me. For the first time in what feels like years, I don’t feel the crushing weight of teaching. I don’t miss the early mornings or the endless lesson plans. I don’t miss the demanding parents or the even more demanding expectations I put on myself.

The realization settles over me like a warm breeze: I don’t enjoy teaching anymore. Maybe I never really have. The pressure of it all had driven me to a breaking point, one I hadn’t even recognized until now. The thought that my unhappiness might have contributed to one bad decision that led to this mess—inviting a stranger into my home—is sobering.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to meet expectations that weren’t even my own. Maybe it’s time I let go of them.

With a newfound determination, I find Rylan’s office and borrow his laptop. He’d left it on the desk, his trust in me evident in the way he didn’t even ask what I needed it for. I sit down and open my email. My heart races while I draft my resignation.

Subject: Immediate Resignation Dear Principal Courtney, Effective immediately, I am resigning from my position. Thank you for the opportunities over the years.

I stare at the words for a long moment before hitting send. As soon as I do, a weight lifts off my chest. My savings will carry me for a few months, and the house—inherited from my Grandma Kassi—means I have no mortgage to worry about. It’s not a forever solution, but it’s enough to give me breathing room.

My fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment longer before I open another tab in the browser. I log in to my cloud drive and open a file that has been on my mind for the last few days. The words are familiar, almost like old friends, but there’s still a hesitance in revisiting them. The outline of a novel I’ve been working on for two years stares back at me. I’ve never had the time or energy to dive into it fully. Now, the excuses are gone.

Earlier, sitting alone in the living room, I caught myself staring at the way the sunlight played across the floorboards, imagining how to describe it. Little details like the hum of the heating system or the creak of the stairs have been sticking with me lately, tugging at ideas I thought I’d forgotten. It’s been weeks since I’ve felt this pull, and now, as the words stare back at me from the screen, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s time to dive back in. If I’m stuck here, I might as well use the time to finish something I’ve dreamed of.

The words flow for a while, but the quiet eventually gets to me. The walls feel like they’re closing in, and the urge to leave is overwhelming. I need air. I need space. I need . . .

Rylan.

I find him in the kitchen where he’s leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. He looks up as I enter, his brow raised in silent question.

“I need to get out of here,” I blurt and cross my arms defensively. “I can’t sit in this house another day. I’m going stir-crazy.”

He studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “It’s not safe out there, Savannah. You know that.”

“Then take me somewhere safe,” I counter. “Anywhere. Please.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think he’s going to refuse. Then he surprises me. “Fine,” he says, setting his mug down. “How about a date?”

“A date?” I repeat, thrown off by the suggestion.

“There’s a pub my brother owns,” he explains. “The Castillos wouldn’t dare step foot there. It’s as safe as it gets.”

“A pub,” I say. A smile tugs at my lips despite myself. “You’re taking me to a bar?”

“It’s more than just a bar,” he says, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ll like it. And I could use a night out too.”

I do need this. I need to feel normal, even if it’s just for a few hours. I nod, biting back my smile. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

His grin is quick and disarming. “Good. Wear something you can move in, just in case.”

“In case of what?” I ask, my smile fading.

“In case we have to run,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

I shake my head but can’t help laughing. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He steps closer, and his hand brushes against my arm. “Trust me, Savannah. You’ll be safe with me.”

I’m finally starting to believe him.

Rylan

The moment Savannah leaves the room to get ready, I pull out my phone and call Declan. He answers on the second ring, his tone immediately sharp. “What do you want, Rylan? I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what?” I ask, as I put away the last of the clean mugs from the dishwasher. “Counting your whiskey barrels?”

“Funny,” he snaps. “What do you need?”

“We’re coming down to the pub tonight,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Savannah’s restless, and I figured a little outing would do her some good.”

“You’re bringing her here?” His voice rises. “Are you out of your damn mind? Do you know how much heat we’re under right now?”

“Relax.” I roll my eyes. “The Castillos wouldn’t dare set foot on your turf. It’s the safest place we could go.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, brother,” he growls. “If anything goes wrong—”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” I cut him off. “I’ll keep her safe. You’ll keep your pub intact. Everyone wins.”

Declan mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite make out, but he doesn’t argue further. “Fine,” he finally says. “But if this blows up in your face, don’t expect me to clean it up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say with a grin before ending the call.

Sliding the phone back into my pocket, I glance toward the hallway where Savannah disappeared. This might not be the smartest idea, but I’ll be damned if I let her feel trapped for another second. I’ll do everything I can to make sure that tonight gives her the freedom she’s been craving—and the safety she deserves.