Chapter 9
NINE
SAVANNAH
I walk past them without looking at anyone and duck into the first open stall. Lock the door. Sit down even though I don’t really have to go. My hands are shaking too badly to do anything else.
The door barely closes before they start laughing.
“Oh my god,” one of them says. “Did you see her face?”
Another snorts. “She totally heard us.”
“Good,” someone replies. “Maybe it’ll save her some dignity.”
I press my lips together, stare at the scuffed stall door in front of me. There’s a phone number carved into it. A heart with initials scratched through. I focus on that instead of the sound of heels clicking closer.
“You know Lucky will fuck literally anyone,” the counter girl says. “He’s not picky. That’s kind of his charm.”
“Please,” another says. “I watched him take a bartender home last week and she spilled tequila on him all night.”
“And the week before that,” a third adds, “it was that girl with the fake lashes who cried in the parking lot.”
They laugh again. Loud. Easy. “He likes them desperate,” someone says. “Makes it easier to walk away.”
My throat tightens. I press my knuckles against my mouth.
“I just don’t get it,” one of them continues. “Like… what does she think is happening here?”
“That he’s into her,” the counter girl says, mock sincere. “That she’s special.”
“Oh my god,” someone laughs. “Stop.”
“He’s probably already bored,” another adds. “She’s not exactly a thrill ride.”
There’s a pause. Then, quieter. Meaner.
“Honestly,” one of them says, “I think he just wants to see if he can get her naked. Like a dare.”
“Or a charity fuck,” someone says.
My stomach flips hard enough I feel sick.
“And once she does,” the first one continues, “that’s it. He’ll ghost. Pretend he doesn’t remember her name.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but they just don’t stop. They talk about him and me like I’m not five feet away. Like I’m already gone.
When I finally stand, my legs feel weak. I flush the toilet just to give myself a second, then unlock the door and step out.
They all look at me at once. No shame. No apology. The counter girl’s eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate. “Well,” she says. “That didn’t take long.”
I head for the sink and wash my hands. My self doubt warring with the anger at them for being so fucking cruel. Get it together Savannah, you don’t have to take this shit. You’re better than this, stronger. You’ve survived hell and come out on the other side, these are just petty bitches.
“You know,” one of them says casually, leaning against the wall, “he’s gonna forget about you the second you leave.”
Another tilts her head. “If he hasn’t already.”
The counter girl smiles, sharp and satisfied. “Try not to fall in love,” she says. “That part’s always embarrassing.”
I dry my hands carefully. Fold the paper towel. Toss it away.
When I turn to leave, they don’t move. They just watch.
“Good luck,” someone calls after me. “Hope it was worth it.”
I don’t answer. I walk out with my head up because it’s the only thing I have left. By the time the music hits me again and I spot the crowd and the lights and the place where Lucky should be standing, something inside me has already decided.
I can’t stay. Not like this. Not knowing they might be right.
The sad part is I really thought this was something more.
I lean against the brick wall outside the bathroom for half a second, just long enough for the truth to settle in my bones.
I let myself have it. The embarrassment.
The hope I shouldn’t have had. The stupid, reckless belief that maybe this time would be different.
I feel so stupid. I replay every moment in my head like evidence.
The way he touched me. The way he looked at me.
How real it felt. How easy it was to believe I wasn’t just passing time.
That I wasn’t just filling a space until someone else showed up.
All the insecurities I worked so damn hard to bury claw their way back up like they’ve been waiting for permission.
My ex’s voice slips in next, uninvited and cruel. The words he used when he wanted to hurt me. When he wanted me smaller. Easier. Grateful for scraps. No one stays. You should be thankful anyone wants you at all.
My chest tightens. My throat burns. Suddenly I’m not the fun, carefree Savannah who danced without thinking and laughed without fear.
I’m the girl who believed him once. The girl who’s broken in all the old familiar ways.
The girl who spirals quietly because making a scene would only prove them right.
I don’t go back out there. Not to the dance floor where he’s supposed to be waiting for me. I don’t look for Lena either. I don’t trust myself not to shatter if I do, so I slip out the back door instead.
The night air hits me hard. Cool. Sharp. I suck in a breath like it might steady me, but my hands are already shaking. I wrap my arms around myself and stand there for a second behind the building, suddenly aware of how alone I am standing just feet away from a place packed with people.
That’s when I see them.
Two women a few rows over in the back parking lot, standing close together and laughing quietly.
Both have dark brown hair. Both are noticeably pregnant, one more than the other, bellies round beneath hoodies and long tees.
They aren’t dressed like they came here to party.
No heels. No glitter. No hunger in their eyes.
They look… normal. Safe.
I hesitate, then walk over before I can talk myself out of it.
“Hey,” I say, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. “I’m sorry. This is probably awkward, but are you headed back toward town?”
They look up at the same time and whatever they see on my face makes their expressions soften immediately. “Yeah,” the woman with the fuller belly says gently. “We are. You okay?”
I nod even though I’m not. “I will be.”
They don’t ask anything else. The other woman reaches for the keys. “We can take you anywhere you need to go.”
Relief hits me so hard my chest aches.
“Thank you,” I say. Then again. “Seriously. Thank you.”
Inside the car, the doors shut with a solid, grounding sound. I pull my wig off without thinking and drop it into my lap, combing my fingers through my hair like I need to remind myself I’m real.
“I’m Bri,” the driver says. “This is my sister, Bella.”
“Savannah,” I say quietly.
Bella glances at me in the mirror, studying my face. “Did someone mess with you in there?”
Her tone is gentle, but there’s heat underneath it.
I shrug. “Not like… physically.”
Bella’s jaw tightens. “Because if they did, our husbands are Iron Reapers. And they don’t play nice when women get hurt.”
Bri nods. “We’ll kick someone’s ass. Pregnant or not.”
That almost makes me laugh.
I shake my head. “No. It wasn’t a guy. It was women. In the bathroom.”
Bri turns fully in her seat now. “What happened?”
“They said some really nasty shit,” I admit. “About me. About the guy I was with. That he sleeps with anyone. That I was just a one night thing. A joke.”
Bella exhales through her nose. “I hate women like that.”
“Me too,” Bri mutters.
Bri glances at me in the mirror again. “Were you with an Iron Reaper tonight?”
I nod slowly. “Well. I wouldn’t really say I was with him.” I let out a quiet, embarrassed breath. “It’s so stupid. There was this bet. And we’ve been talking for a few days.”
Bella waits. Patient.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset,” I continue. “I guess… and I know this sounds stupid as fuck, but it felt like it was heading somewhere real.”
They’re quiet for a beat.
“Who was it?” Bri asks gently.
“Lucky,” I say, then glance up. “Do you know him?”
They exchange a look. A knowing one.
Then they smile.
“Oh,” Bella says. “Yeah. We know Lucky.”
“He’s actually a really good guy,” Bri adds. “Protective. Loyal. Big heart under all that attitude.”
The words land warm and sharp all at once.
Bella sighs. “But…”
“But he does have a reputation,” Bri finishes carefully. “Especially at Perdition. Different chick every time he’s there.”
My chest sinks.
“That doesn’t mean what you felt wasn’t real,” Bella says quickly. “Just that he might not have been in the same place.”
The road hums beneath us. The bar fades behind us, lights shrinking in the side mirror.
I pull my phone out once we’re a few minutes away.
Me: Hey. I’m really sorry, but I had to leave.
Me: I wasn’t feeling great and didn’t want to make it a thing.
Me: I got a ride back into town. I’m safe.
I stare at the screen, thumb hovering. I don’t have anything else to give tonight. I lock my phone before I can spiral.
Bella glances at me in the mirror. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say automatically. Then I shake my head. “I mean… it will be.”
She nods like she understands and turns the radio up just a notch, giving me quiet without making it awkward.
My phone buzzes.
I know it’s Lena before I even look.
Lena: What happened?? You just disappeared. Are you okay?
I type. Delete. Type again.
Me: I’m okay. I just needed to leave.
Me: I’ll explain later, I promise.
Before she can respond, my phone starts ringing. Lucky’s name lights up the screen, and my heart jumps before my head can stop it. I don’t answer. It rings again.
Bella’s eyes flick to the phone. Bri’s mouth presses into a thin line.
I flip it face down in my lap. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bring drama into your night.”
Bri shakes her head immediately. “You’re not.”
The ringing stops. A text comes through.
Biker Boy: Where did you go?
Biker Boy: Savannah?
My chest aches. Dull. Heavy. The kind of hurt that settles in slowly.
Another call. Voicemail.
Then another text.
Biker Boy: Did I do something wrong?
That’s the one that almost breaks me.
I shove my phone into my purse.
It buzzes again. I pull it out despite myself.
Lena: He looks pissed.
Lena: Like… really pissed.
Lena: He just left.
“He left,” I say softly.
Bella exhales. “Men don’t like not knowing,” she says evenly. “Doesn’t mean you owe him answers right now.”
I nod and text Lena one last time.
Me: I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
I silence my phone completely. The road stretches dark and steady ahead of us. I lean back into the seat and breathe. Whatever comes next can wait until morning.