Chapter 13
Todd
I don’t know how long the walk back takes, nor do I remember much from the drive home. It’s all a blur of steady steps, supporting her weight, and the low murmur of reassurance neither of us is sure she even hears. Savannah is tucked between us—where she belongs—almost the entire time.
Only in those moments of transition, when one of us must open a door or adjust, is when she is without both our arms and is not pressed against both our sides.
By the time we pull into the driveway, the tension in my shoulders has settled into something heavier. I kill the engine, and for a moment, we sit there, listening to the faint rattle of the cooling van and the wind outside. Savannah hasn’t stirred beyond a sluggish shift when the motion stopped.
I open the door and step out. The cold air hits me like a slap, and I’m glad Savannah is bundled up in few layers of blankets. Colton is already moving, yanking open the passenger door before I even round the front of the van.
I nudge Savannah gently. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you inside.”
She blinks sluggishly, as if my words take a moment to register. Then, without argument, she moves, but it’s mechanical—her limbs stiff, her expression distant. The way she follows the motion without truly engaging sends unease crawling up my spine.
The second she’s upright, Colton scoops her into his arms like she weighs nothing.
Something in me loosens at the sight of them. She is curled against his chest, and his hold is instinctively protective. When she shifts, nuzzling closer, something warm and possessive stirs in my chest as I suck in air.
Yeah. That looks right.
I exhale, shaking off the moment and pulling the door shut behind us. “Let’s get inside, warm up, and get some rest.”
Tomorrow, we talk.
Inside, the harsh kitchen light makes everything feel sharper and harsher. The warm glow we left behind has been replaced with a clinical light that makes the deep circles under Savannah’s eyes more pronounced, the dullness in her gaze more apparent.
I shut the door behind us. Figuring Savannah won’t be a source of information, I turn to my brother. “What happened?”
“Dunno.” He shakes his head and lowers her to a stool. “Found her like this.”
I exhale through my nose, forcing down my frustration. No point pressing him. Or her, for that matter.
I grab the pot of leftover chicken soup from the fridge and move toward the stove—something warm and easy to soothe and ground her and to raise her temperature from the inside.
The soup heats slowly, the savory scent of broth filling the air. Colton settles beside her. He keeps touching her—not like groping, but in a reassuring manner. Like he wants her to know she isn’t alone.
I slide three bowls of soup onto the table and take the seat on her other side. She’s sandwiched between us, and my chest fills with warm satisfaction.
I slide the bowl in front of her closer. “Eat.”
She picks up the spoon, dips it into the soup, and takes a bite. Then another. Mechanical, as if following a script she doesn’t remember writing. For a few moments, I watch her eat before digging in myself.
Colton follows suit, cleaning out his bowl first. He leans forward slightly, forearms on the table. “I’m so glad I found you, but I think we should stop meeting like this.” His attempt at humor falls flat.
“You scared the hell out of us, starling.”
Colton blinks. “Starling?”
I shrug and steal a glance at Savannah. She’s barely reacted to anything we’ve said. Her hand flops onto the table, her fingers uncurl, and the spoon drops. She’s hardly touched her soup. Her gaze stays down and distant.
Colton growls something and takes the spoon from her. After feeding her a few bites, he nods at me, waiting for an answer.
All right. Let’s do conversation. “She’s small but tough and stubborn as hell. Like a starling, she doesn’t belong here, but somehow, she’s making it work anyway.”
Savannah doesn’t even twitch.
Colton’s exhalation through his nose sounds like something between a huff and a snort. “She’s not making anything work right now.”
“I know.” I glance at her and reach out to brush the curtain of her blond mane behind her ear. My knuckles encounter a soft cheek that is way too cold to the touch. “Hey, starling. You’re safe. You’re home.”
No reaction.
Colton frowns, rubbing a hand over his jaw before turning back to me. “You do know starlings aren’t native to North America, right?”
“Exactly,” I say, forcing a grin, “but they came, and they survived. Thrived, even.”
He snorts. “So, you’re comparing her to an invasive species?”
I shake my head, keeping my tone light, even as I trace the apple of her cheek with my thumb—back and forth until the skin warms. “Nah. More like something unexpected but kinda perfect.”
Colton glances at Savannah, who hasn’t moved, hasn’t responded. He leans in slightly, voice softer. “Diana’s worried about you,” he murmurs. “So are we.”
Still nothing.
I sigh, pick up the spoon, and dip it into the soup. “Come on, starling,” I coax, lifting it toward her. “Just a little more.”
For a second, I think she won’t move at all, but then she blinks, once, and her lips part.
It’s something.
Colton meets my gaze across the table, his jaw tight. He nods. “Let’s try this.”
“This?”
“You, me, her.”
I’m tempted to fist pump but manage to hold back. We might have come out of the wood as a trio literally, but figuratively speaking we’re not there yet.
I shoot off a quick text to Diana.
Todd
Home safe. Savannah is with us. We’ll keep her here tonight.
I get a winking face emoji back.
* * *
Colton
Now we have her in our home for the second time this week, I know exactly what I want, but I don’t know how to get there. It’s time to give up the fight and do what Todd has been suggesting for days on end—give in to our attraction and act on it.
I want to strip her bare, put her in the shower, and wash the cold and dirt from her skin, but that wouldn’t be right. She isn’t in a state to object or consent.
For a few seconds, I struggle with my pride before I turn to Todd. “What do we do now?”
He strokes his chin, and his gaze softens as he watches our golden girl. “I don’t think we should leave her alone, but she needs sleep. Let’s take her to your room and tuck her in.”
I have no clue what we’ll do after we tuck her in, but I like the idea of her in my bed. “Okay.”
I stand and pull back her chair.
Savannah blinks but doesn’t speak.
Her catatonic state doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t know how to reach her. Sleep might help.
I lift her in my arms, and she snuggles into my chest like she did before. I like holding her.
Todd exhales and rubs the back of his neck. “We need to get to the bottom of this. We can’t help her unless she’s open with us.”
“True.” I tuck her head under my chin. I could stand here all night with her in my arms.
Todd must be the rational and reasonable one. “Let’s get her upstairs. We won’t pressure her for answers tonight, but tomorrow she’ll talk…”
I start for the stairs with her in my arms.
“Even if we have to tie her to the bed.”
My cock jerks at the image—her wrists bound, her body pliant, the trust in her eyes as she gives in to me—to us.
The image is way too appealing for my peace of mind.
I scowl and shove away the thought. Not the time. It is not the damn time for kink play. She’s a woman in need, and we’re here to help.
When we reach the second floor, Todd passes me to open my bedroom door.
I cross the room in a few strides and lower her to the edge of the bed. Crouching in front of her, I rest my hands on her knees. “Come on, starling. Let’s get you in bed.”
She doesn’t resist as I pull off her jacket, then her sweater. She’s still damp and chilled from outside, so leaving her in wet clothes isn’t an option. I unbutton her jeans and pull the heavy denim from her. I leave on her bra and panties—we’re already walking a fine line.
Todd tosses me one of my shirts. “Good thinking,” I mutter, quickly slipping my soft cotton tee over her head. It swallows her frame and falls to mid-thigh.
I peel back the blankets and ease her under them, tucking them around her. She shivers and pulls the covers up to her chin. She looks small and vulnerable in a way that hits me in the chest.
We take turns in the bathroom, dumping our dirty clothes in the hamper. When I step back into the bedroom, Todd emerges from his own, dressed in sweatpants and a clean shirt. He tosses me a pair of loose pants with a drawstring.
“It should fit you,” he says. “I know you don’t have any loungewear.”
He’s right. Usually, I sleep in the buff.
I snort.
“What?”
“It’s probably a good call. It’ll be hard enough explaining to her that she spent the night half out of it with two guys, but one of those men being naked wouldn’t go over well.”
Todd chuckles, stretching as he settles onto the other side of the bed on top of the covers. “I think our starling has a sharp, pointed beak, and she’d certainly try to bite you with it.”
I smirk, pulling on the pants before I climb on the bed.
Maybe.
But at least she’d be fighting.