12. SAVANNAH
Chapter twelve
SAVANNAH
T he safehouse felt very different without Blake in it.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the tendrils of worry and fears of abandonment that threatened to suffocate her. Still, she couldn’t help a bubble of anger from surfacing. How could he ignite this fire within her only to leave her vulnerable and exposed?
The scent of their recent coupling filled the air, a musky reminder of her submission. His touch, his dominance, had felt better than she’d dared to imagine. And surrendering to him, truly allowing herself to give up control, to close her eyes and let herself go . . . it was a beautiful feeling. It had felt as though she could truly relax for the first time in her life.
For as long as she could remember, Savannah had been on guard. Sleeping with one eye open, keeping her back to the wall, in a constant state of hyper-alertness. Doing that made her feel both safe and scared all at once.
Now that she had Blake by her side, she felt safe and scared in a different way.
She picked up her sippy cup and took a long drink of warm milk, then she got up from the couch with a sigh. She could still feel Blake’s cum slipping out of her body, trickling down her legs.
She needed to take a wash like he’d asked. It would have been much nicer if he had stayed and washed her like he had said. She could have surrendered control a while longer.
Savvy went into the small bathroom and filled the sink with warm water, then took a cloth and washed herself from head to toe. She was being a good girl for Daddy, and it pleased her to know that he’d be happy with her for doing this. The trouble was, at the same time, she felt that spark of anger igniting in her.
How could he just leave her like this?
And why did she care so much?
Was she angry that she had been left alone, or was she in fact . . . jealous? She wasn’t used to being shut up inside. She wanted to be out there, fighting for justice for Mia, making things happen.
Ugh, it was all so confusing.
As she dried herself, her eyes fell upon the soft onesie draped over a chair in the kitchen. A pang of longing hit her. Snuggling up on the couch did sound nice. But did she truly want to give in to this new side of herself so easily? Wasn't there value in asserting her independence, even just a little? After all, if her Daddy was going to keep leaving her like this, she needed to be able to look after herself, didn’t she?
With a defiant huff, she bypassed the onesie and instead pulled on her jeans and a t-shirt. Her damp curls brushed against her neck as she tilted her head, considering her reflection in the mirror. The woman who stared back at her was not the same one who'd entered the safehouse days ago. She needed to work out who this new version of herself was.
"Let's see what you're made of, Savannah Sweet," she whispered to her reflection, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead.
Savannah's fingers tightened around the doorknob, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to make her move. She knew this was risky, but she couldn't help herself. The need to explore and prove her independence was too strong.
"Alright, you got this," she whispered, easing open the door and stepping cautiously into the dimly lit hallway.
Her footsteps echoed softly as she navigated her way through the maze-like building, her investigative instincts guiding her toward the university library Special Collections on the top floor.
"Hey, wait up!" a voice called out just as Savannah rounded the corner.
Savannah froze. Had she been caught?
She turned to see a young woman with a heavy stack of books hustling after an older man, who was swiping a keycard to access the special collections area.
Okay, phew. Nobody had seen her. She ducked out of sight behind a bookshelf, and watched intently as the door clicked open, her pulse quickening.
"Thanks, Professor Harrison," the young woman said breathlessly as she slipped through the door. "I forgot my keycard again."
“Not a problem,” chuckled the professor.
As the door began to close, Savannah seized her chance, darting forward and slipping inside. Yes! She made it. She was used to being sneaky in her work as an investigative journalist, and it felt good to know she hadn’t lost her knack.
"Damn, I'm good," she thought, allowing herself a small smile.
Now, she inhaled the musty scent of old books and leather bindings. This place was a treasure trove, packed with ancient texts and rare artifacts that begged for her attention.
She looked over at the librarian, and the other people in here, but none seemed interested in her. Universities were such vast places, she could well have been a student for all they knew. She could even have been a professor!
Her fingers traced the spines of dusty tomes as her mind raced with the secrets they held.
She was particularly drawn to a section on women’s history.
A History of Secret Societies
The Untold Stories of Female Trailblazers
A Woman's Place: A History of Women's Suffrage in the United States
As she dug through ancient tomes and uncovered hidden documents, she couldn't help but feel a connection to the women who had written or who were featured in these precious books. They too had faced adversity and challenge, and yet they had persevered. Savannah felt a surge of strength as she realized she was part of a lineage of strong, resilient women.
The time flew by as she delved deeper into the mysteries hidden within the library, her heart racing with anticipation. In the back of her mind, she knew that she was doing something very wrong, and yet, at the same time, she loved every minute of it. She was being true to her identity, being brave, exploring, and it was truly exhilarating.
But just as she reached for a particularly intriguing volume, a nagging voice in the back of her head reminded her that she couldn't afford to linger too long or Blake would realize she had gone missing.
"Okay, just one more book," she bargained with herself, selecting an aged leather-bound journal from the shelf. "Then it's back to the safehouse before Blake finds out what I did."
She began looking through the ancient volume, a fascinating text about ancient medicinal plants, but she was only a little way in when the heavy library door creaked open. Savannah froze, her pulse pounding in her ears as she spotted Jax striding into the room. Panic surged through her, and she quickly jumped behind a tall bookcase, hoping he hadn't seen her.
"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered under her breath, clutching the book tightly to her chest.
Peeking around the edge of the bookcase, Savannah watched Jax move through the rows of shelves, unaware of her presence. She knew she needed to slip away before he discovered her, but her body was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by indecision.
"Come on, Savvy, you've gotten out of worse situations than this," she mentally chastised herself, trying to muster the courage to make a break for it.
Taking a deep breath, she made her move, darting between the stacks as silently as possible. But just as she was about to reach the door, a strong hand closed around her arm, yanking her back.
"Going somewhere, Miss Sweet?" Jax asked, his voice low and dangerous. Savannah's heart sank as she realized she'd been caught.
"Jax, I—"
"Save your excuses," he interrupted, his grip tightening on her arm. "You shouldn't be here, young lady."
Savannah swallowed hard, trying to muster a defiant response. "I don't need your permission to explore," she said, lifting her chin in defiance.
"Maybe not," Jax conceded, his eyes narrowing. "But you certainly don't belong in this room."
"Look, I just wanted to check out the books," Savannah insisted, desperation creeping into her voice. "I wasn't planning on staying much longer."
"Doesn't matter," Jax said coldly, releasing her arm and pointing toward the door. Quietly, he told her: "You need to leave. Now."
Savannah hesitated. His words ignited a spark of defiance within her. "Maybe I don't want to go back," she retorted, her hands trembling at her sides. "I'm sick of being locked up in the safehouse like a baby. I want to feel capable.”
"Dammit, Savannah!" Jax hissed, looking around at the librarian to check they weren’t drawing attention. "This isn't a game! There are people out there who would love to get their hands on you, and I won't let that happen. My brother would kill me ."
Savannah chewed on her bottom lip, her resolve wavering. She knew Jax was right, but the thought of returning to the safehouse made her stomach churn.
"Please, Jax," she pleaded, desperation lacing her voice. "I just need some time to be myself, away from the safehouse."
Jax sighed. “Right. Come with me.” His strong hand on her shoulder guided her through a set of double doors at the back of the room, taking her into a dimly lit book storage area.
"Alright," Jax conceded, releasing his grip. "Let's talk."
Savannah took in the towering shelves surrounding them, feeling dwarfed by the endless rows of ancient books. The weight of history pressed down on her, but she found it comforting, like a familiar embrace.
“What’s going on, Savannah?” Jax asked, leaning against a shelf of books, his arms folded. “Is my brother not treating you right?” He paused. “He told me what happened between the two of you.”
“He told you?” Savannah felt the blush rising up her cheeks.
“Not the details,” said Jax. “But he mentioned that you didn’t have a contract.”
Savannah frowned. “A . . . contract?”
“You’re a Little, Savannah,” Jax said kindly. “You need rules and guidelines before you embark on any kind of power play relationship. To keep you safe.”
“Safe,” said Savannah bitterly. “Everybody keeps talking about keeping me safe. But if I can’t go anywhere or do anything, what’s the point? I might as well just disappear , like Mia.” She felt her eyes prick with tears.
Jax reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t say that. Please. This situation is only temporary. My brother is doing everything he can to protect you while you’re in danger. He obviously fucked up by not making a contract when things became . . . sexual. But believe me when I say he cares about you.”
Savannah felt her cheeks redden even more. “Mm-hmm. Yeah, I can tell. It’s just . . . I’m not used to being looked after. It makes me feel . . . small.”
“Then you need to talk to Blake about that,” said Jax. “He’s a good guy. I’m sure he’ll listen.” He sighed. “The thing is, Savannah, he would give his life to keep you safe. That’s just what he’s like.”
“But he barely knows me.”
“Ever since our sister, Chloe, disappeared, that’s how he’s wired. To be honest, he was like that after our parents died, too. He took it hard. Felt responsible.”
“But why? It wasn’t his fault.”
“He can’t bear the thought that he could have saved someone if he’d been in the right place at the right time.”
Savannah nodded, thinking of the guilt that gnawed at her own heart over Mia's disappearance. “I guess I can understand that.”
Jax nodded solemnly. "I think he sees you as a chance to make things right, to protect someone who needs it."
Savannah's heart clenched at the thought of bearing the weight of Blake's guilt and regret. She didn't want to be someone's second chance—she wanted to be cared about for who she was.
"But I'm not weak," she insisted, her voice cracking slightly. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can. But we all need a little extra help sometimes, especially when there’s a target on our back. So . . . let Blake take care of you.”
She frowned. “And what if I don’t?”
“That’s your decision. But I know it would devastate Blake."
Savannah's thoughts raced, torn between her desire for independence and the longing for the security Blake offered. One thing she knew for sure: she didn’t want to be a stand-in for Chloe, if that’s what she was.
Jax sighed. "Now, will you please get back to that safehouse before my brother murders someone?"
Savannah chuckled and nodded. “Okay, Jax. Thanks for the chat.”
***
Savannah opened the door timidly, hoping that she wouldn’t find Blake back yet.
But of course, he was.
She saw him pacing by the window, his jaw clenched and eyes filled with worry and anger.
"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
"I went to the library," Savannah replied, her voice steady despite the trembling in her hands.
Blake's eyes narrowed, the possessiveness in his gaze almost tangible. "You disobeyed me, Savannah. You left the safehouse without permission, putting yourself in extreme danger."
Savannah shrugged. “The library isn’t dangerous! I mean, some of the old books were a bit dusty, and I guess if you have a dust allergy—”
“This isn’t the time to joke, young lady. If Jax hadn’t messaged me to tell me you were safe, I’d have taken to the streets with a damn pistol by now.”
"I can take care of myself, Blake." She crossed her arms, her defiance fueled by the desire to prove herself. "I wasn’t doing anything stupid. I just wanted to go look at some books. Do something on my own terms."
“We had an agreement,” said Blake. “I told you to stay in the safehouse until I got back. If you want to go gallivanting around a university library, you ask me to take you there.”
Savannah clenched her jaw. “I don’t need a lecture from you. Jax already gave me one.”
Anger flashed across Blake’s face, replaced by a hurt expression that cut through her like a knife. "What did my brother say to you exactly?"
“We just had a chat about how I was feeling,” she said quietly.
He scowled darkly. “You spoke to my brother about your feelings instead of me?”
"Blake, it wasn't like that," she tried to explain, her words stumbling over each other. "We talked about Chloe, too. I understand why you're so protective, but I need to make my own decisions sometimes. I’m not Chloe, you know."
"Is that what this is about?" he asked, his voice strained. "You think you’re some kind of replacement for my sister?” He shook his head. “I don’t think of you as my goddamn sister for one second.”
Savannah felt ashamed of herself. Clearly, Blake didn’t have brotherly feelings for her. She was getting this all wrong. “I just don’t want to lose my independence,” she said quietly. “Before I met you, I did everything by myself.”
Blake snorted. “And look where that got you.”
"Blake, please," Savannah pleaded, starting to sob. "I need you to trust me, to believe that I can handle myself."
"Trust goes both ways, Savannah," Blake said, his voice tight with emotion. "How can I trust you when you sneak off behind my back?"
She bit her lip, the bitter taste of guilt flooding her mouth. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Blake. I just needed some space to figure things out."
"Figure what out, Savannah?" he asked, his tone softening ever so slightly.
"Us," she whispered, her eyes locked onto his. "I liked what happened between us. Very much. But I also felt very lost when you’d gone. I needed to find myself again. To see if I could still do things on my own terms."
Blake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to take away your independence, Savannah. I just want to give you a set of guidelines to operate within. A structure that keeps you safe. But within that structure, I promise that you’ll feel more free than you ever felt before. In fact, I brought a contract over for us to go through. We haven’t even talked about boundaries yet. You’re in control of a lot more than you think.”
Savannah stared at the contract, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew signing it would solidify her commitment to submit to Blake, but it also meant giving up a part of herself—the fiercely independent woman who had fought tooth and nail to survive.
She went over to her cot. Her fingers trembled as she reached for Mr. Whiskers, clutching the stuffed animal to her chest like a lifeline. The soft pink fur against her skin provided a small measure of comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.
"Blake," she whispered. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Look, Savannah," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm trying to protect you. I care about you. Deeply."
"I understand that," she replied, her grip on Mr. Whiskers tightening.
Blake stepped closer, his blue eyes searching hers. "It’s my job as a Daddy Dom to keep you safe."
Savannah hesitated, her eyes darting back to the paper in Blake's hands. It felt like a precipice, a point of no return that would change everything between them. She wanted to trust him, to believe that they could navigate this uncharted territory together. But as she stared at the words on the page, doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve.
"Give me some time to think about it," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Please, Blake."
He nodded, the pain in his eyes evident as he folded the contract and handed it to her. "Of course. Take all the time you need, Savannah. Just remember that I'm doing this because I want to help you feel more free, not because I want to control you."
As he turned away, Savannah clutched Mr. Whiskers even tighter to her chest. Was she being brave standing her ground like this? Or was she letting fear dictate her future?