Chapter Fifteen
Rylan
I’m pacing the living room, my mind working overtime as Savannah glares at me from the couch. Her arms are crossed, her legs tucked under her, and her expression pure defiance.
“This is stupid,” she snaps for the fifth time in as many minutes. “I don’t need your help, Rylan. I can handle myself.”
“Yeah, because you’ve done such a stellar job so far.” I shoot back, stopping mid-step to pin her with a look. “You were almost killed, Savannah. You can’t go back to a house that has no security or safeguards to protect you there.”
She huffs, her cheeks flushing. “That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for any of this!”
“And yet, here we are,” I say, spreading my arms. “The Castillos think my family is involved. You didn’t know who you were inviting over that night and what that would mean. They want blood, Savannah. Do you really think going back to your regular routine is going to end well?”
She glares at me, her green eyes flashing. “So what’s your grand plan, then? Lock me up here forever? I have a life, Rylan. A job. Responsibilities.”
“I’m not saying you can’t go back to work temporarily,” I say, holding up a hand to forestall her inevitable outburst. “But it’s going to be on my terms. You’ll go in, ask for time off, and then I’ll pick you up and bring you back here. No stops, no deviations. You stay out of sight until this is handled.”
Her jaw drops, and for a moment, she’s too stunned to speak. Then, the words come rushing out like a dam has burst.
“Your terms?” she says, her voice rising. “Are you kidding me? You don’t get to dictate my life, Rylan. You’re not my keeper.”
“You’re right,” I say, stepping closer. “I’m not. But I’m the only one who can protect you from the Castillos’ if they figure out your house was his last known location. So, yeah, for now, you’re going to do what I tell you. Or I’ll make you.”
Her mouth snaps shut, and she stares at me, her expression a mix of fury and disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I lean down, my face inches from hers. “Try me, mo stóirín.”
Savannah
My fists clench, and I’m one second away from throwing something at his stupid, smug face. But as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. The only knowledge I have of the Castillos is enough to know they are dangerous, and I’m in way over my head. Still, that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him win without a fight.
“Fine,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “But don’t think for a second I am going to make my forced house arrest enjoyable for you.”
He straightens, smirking. “Noted.”
I roll my eyes, standing and brushing past him. “If this is how you treat people you’re trying to help, it’s no wonder you’re a delivery driver. You clearly have zero people skills.”
“And yet, here you are, alive and well, mo stóirín,” he quips, following me toward the door. “Must be doing something right.”
I ignore him, grabbing my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”
I had only planned to stop by work long enough to speak with Principal Courtney and request time off. As I stepped into her office, she barely glanced up from the stack of papers on her desk, her glasses sliding down her nose.
“Morning,” I said, forcing a polite smile.
“Good morning, Miss Fields. What brings you by?”
I hesitate for a second and then just dive in. “I need to request some time off. Just a week or so—family stuff I need to handle.”
That gets her attention. She sets her pen down and looks up, her expression softening slightly. “Is everything okay?”
“It's nothing serious. Just some things I need to deal with.” Trying to sound as calm and casual as possible.
She frowns, tapping her fingers on the desk but eventually nods. “Alright. I’ll approve it, but please make sure your responsibilities are in order before you go.”
“Of course, thank you.” Relief floods through me.
I walk out of her office feeling lighter—until I run into half of the staff in the hallway. Suddenly, everyone wants to catch up. Questions about the storm, idle chatter about weekend plans, endless updates about their kids or their new diets—it felt like every conversation was dragging me further into quicksand.
By the time I manage to break away and head for the door, what should have been a quick visit had somehow stretched into what felt like an eternity. My life was unraveling, but all I could do was nod along to their stories, and try not to scream.
When I finally step out of the school’s front door, I spot Rylan still waiting for me outside, casually leaning against his truck.
“How did it go?”
“Peachy, can we just go?” I climb into the passenger side and slam the door harder than necessary.
He chuckles, rounding the truck and sliding into the driver’s seat. “As you wish.”
The drive back to his house is quiet, save for the occasional sarcastic remark from me and his infuriatingly calm responses. By the time we pull into the driveway, I’m ready to scream.
“Home sweet prison.” I shoot an angry glare up at the massive mansion I’m now stuck calling home.
“Glad to see you’re warming up to the place.”
I follow, my frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. This might be temporary, but it’s far from ideal. And if Rylan thinks he’s going to call all the shots, he’s got another thing coming.