32. Savannah
Iraise my gun and point it at Amy, who looks at Aiden with such tenderness—quite unlike the way she looked at him when she crashed the Easter gathering. The moment she notices me take a step in her direction, she drops the pipe and puts her hands up.
“Don’t shoot! I was trying to help!” she begs.
“Why are you here?” I ask. “You’re in direct violation of the restraining order placed against you.”
I groan in dismay when Aiden steps in front of me and blocks my shot, forcing me to sidestep him. “Anna, lower your weapon and let me talk to her,” he demands. I lower it slightly, but it’s not enough for him as he pushes it down further.
“We really need to get out of here first, Aiden. This can wait until we are all safe. Keep your gun trained on Amy until we can get this sorted out.”
“I’m no threat. I just saved Aiden’s life. Why would I try and hurt him?” she asks.
Her point is valid, but one can never be too careful. “Consider it a precaution. Once we’re out of here, you guys can chat it up all you want. Take it or leave it.”
She takes me up on the offer, and we move out. I “slice the pie” as I navigate every corner, inching my way in an arc so I’m a smaller target. Most of the way is clear until we reach the main warehouse one flight up. FBI are scattered about and making their arrests. I watch as Sean O’Sullivan gets dragged away in handcuffs. Not wanting to be misidentified, I raise my gun in the air and shout, “I’m Savannah Jones with Shining Knight Protection Services! I’m with Aiden Shaw and Amy Potslawski. There are three unconscious persons on the lower level!”
Deputy Director Robert Finnegan walks toward us, waving two of his men to go and take care of Swank, Patricia, and Conor.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Savannah Jones in the flesh,” he says.
“Have we met? I know who you are, Sir, but I don’t recall our paths ever crossing,” I say, taken aback by his familiarity with me.
He smiles. “No, we haven’t had the pleasure. However, my daughter, Harper, has always admired you.”
Harper Finnegan. She’s the 18-year-old I purposefully lost to in the last beauty pageant before I graduated college. “You’re Roger’s best friend and contact!”
He winks and teases me. “There’s nothing that gets by you, Ms. Jones. Harper has always spoken so highly of you. She followed in your footsteps and joined the FBI. I guess I have you to thank for that because it had been my dream for her to work alongside me, but only if that was what she truly wanted. You were an amazing role model for so many young women, my Harper included.”
“Why? Beauty is only skin deep, and the last thing I want is for any woman to put stock in that.”
He tilts his head and asks, “Is that what you believe? Savannah, you pulled yourself up from poverty with your talent, wit, and brains. Yes, beauty is a factor, but you’re the whole package. You are the perfect example of triumph over adversity and worthy of everyone’s respect. You have mine and Harper’s.”
I choke out a “Thank you, Sir,” before turning away. Aiden stands behind me, proud as can be. Even Amy is smiling.
Aiden is no longer pointing the gun at Amy, and I never bothered to check if he ever did so in the first place. Knowing him, he would rather risk his life and give her the benefit of the doubt than shoot her. In my line of work, that’s a dangerous way to think. For Aiden, it’s just who he is, and I love him all the more for it. He tries to see the best in everyone.
I point to the exit of the warehouse and say, “We should go outside, get out of the way, and leave these guys to clean up.”
When I open the door, bright sunlight hits my eyes, forcing me to squint. Jessie and Jerry wave us over but immediately reach for their weapons when they see Amy trailing behind. “Put your guns down. Amy saved our lives, and Aiden has granted her an audience. We’ll stand by and remain close but far enough away to give them a little privacy.”
They don’t like it—and neither do I—but it’s Aiden’s life, and he’s free to do as he pleases. I make sure I’m close enough to hear what’s being said in case things spiral out of control. I listen in as Aiden asks bluntly, “Which Amy am I talking to? Amy Smith or Amy Potslawski?”
Amy’s eyes tear up. “Amy Potslawski.”
“Thank you, Amy, for saving our lives; but it begs the question of why you were here in the first place. Why have you been following me? I thought that we agreed that if you take the medication, seek help, and follow the restraining order, it would eventually be lifted.”
“I know Mr. Shaw, but I had something I needed to say. I was hoping you would see me and approach me—not your bodyguards, but you,” she says.
“You have my undivided attention. What is it you want to tell me?”
Amy reaches for her back pocket, and I immediately raise my weapon. She has no idea the bullets will merely knock her out and once again raises her hands. “It’s just a letter!” she exclaims.
I pull out the note from her back pocket and hand it to Aiden before returning to my spot. As he reads it, Amy begins talking.
“Mr. Shaw, this is an apology and a thank you letter wrapped into one. Dissociative Identity Disorder isn’t easy to live with. It’s like you’re sharing your body with another human being. Sometimes, only hours pass. Then there are times when days, weeks, or a year of your life are missing. If my ‘other’ personality hadn’t taken up the hobby of writing in a journal every day, I wouldn’t have any idea what was happening. Imagine how it felt to see a restraining order on the table once I got home from the doctor. They gave me an antipsychotic that took a couple of days to kick in, and I’ve been talking with my psychologist nearly every day as a check-in.
“The journal is how I knew what I had done to you. I’m so sorry. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I also wanted to say thank you for not giving up on me and helping me get the treatment I needed. If it weren’t for you, I would probably be back in an institution or someplace even worse.”
“Amy, everyone deserves a second chance, including you. If you continue your treatments, per our agreement, the restraining order will be lifted in time,” Aiden tells her.
Amy shakes her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like you to keep it in place indefinitely,” she says, stunning us all.
“Why?” Aiden asks.
“For one, I,” she says, pointing to herself, “hate hockey and don’t have any reason to come near you after today. And two, if for some reason I relapse, you should be protected.”
Aiden embraces Amy when their conversation ends and asks one of the FBI agents to give her a ride to her car parked down the road. She had snuck in when the FBI stormed the warehouse, risking her life just so she could say thank you.
Aiden saunters over with an “I told you so” expression on his face.
“Don’t say it!” I warn.
“Say what?”
“You’re a smart man, Aiden. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie because that one bites!” Jerry quips, pointing to me in the process.
I chomp my teeth at my teammate.
“See what I mean. She’s dangerous!”
Aiden chuckles but then becomes serious, with sadness in his eyes. “I can’t believe Swank betrayed me in such a way. I never saw it coming.”
I stroke Aiden’s cheek. “That’s because you see the goodness in people and not their faults; except for me. You questioned me right out of the gate,” I tease.
He pulls me close and kisses my lips softly. “That’s true, but you won me over in the end.”
As Aiden continues to pepper me with kisses, Jessie and Jerry start singing Another One Bites the Dust by Queen, causing us both to giggle.
Aiden whispers in my ear, “One hard conversation down, one more to go. Tomorrow, your mom is coming over to visit.”
We all stayed home on Saturday and watched the last game of the regular season. Swank didn’t play because he was sitting in a jail cell, while Aiden was benched due to a pending investigation. Once Aiden is cleared of any wrongdoing, he’ll be allowed to play. With two of the Rockets star players sidelined and morale at a low, the team ended up losing 5-2.
The family decided to forego church today as well. All of us need the time to recuperate after Friday’s ordeal. However, we opt to watch the service streamed live on social media from the comfort of the living room. My team is packing up and preparing to leave tomorrow since the threat has been neutralized. I’ll need to pack later tonight if I plan to leave with them. There’s no way I’m driving the piece of junk car that Ethan sent me down here with.
Penny is dejected when Aiden tells her the truth about our engagement, and she gives me the silent treatment for about an hour. Aiden pulls her aside for a private conversation, and when she returns, she’s happier than ever. I don’t know what he said, but it’s enough for her to let go of her disappointment. When I ask Aiden, he shrugs. “We’re forgiven. It’s as easy as that.”
I raise a skeptical eyebrow, but I don’t question him further. Instead, I enjoy what little time I have left with the family. We’re interrupted when our phones begin chiming with an alert. My mother is on her way up the driveway, and I’m about to get some answers. My team wishes me luck, and the Shaw family says a quick prayer before everyone scatters like the wind. Aiden is the only one who stays, and that’s because I need his support.
When the doorbell rings, Aiden is the one who gets up to answer it, inviting Gretchen and her husband, Max, inside. We aren’t at the hugging stage yet, so I politely offer them a seat instead.
“Um. I wasn’t expecting anyone else,” I say, embarrassed that we will be airing our dirty laundry in front of Max.
“Max is my support, just as Aiden is yours, Savannah. I assume you have a lot of questions, and they may be difficult for me to answer. However, Max and I have both agreed that if his presence makes you uncomfortable, then he’s willing to step outside.”
I appreciate the gesture. “No, you’re right. It wouldn’t be fair of me to have someone to be by my side and ask you to go it alone. He can stay.”
My mother smiles warmly at me. “Thank you. I don’t deserve your kindness after the way I treated you. I was not a good person back then, and I’m here now, partly because of Aiden. I don’t mean ‘here’ as in your house, but ‘here’ as in happy and living a fruitful life. So, whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
I glance over at the man I’m head over heels in love with, curious as to what part he played in my mother’s transformation. Turning back toward Gretchen, I see her hand gripping Max’s tightly. “Why don’t you tell me your story so I can begin to understand? That’s probably the easiest place to start.”
She nods, and she lets go of her husband’s hand so she can clasp her own. “Okay. Like you, my life growing up was hard, and ‘love’ was considered a four-letter word in our household. There were no hugs, no kisses, and no sympathy. There were harsh consequences for the most minor of infractions. I ran away from home when I was 14, Savannah. That’s how bad it was.
“I lied on my first job application and said I was 16, working minimum wage and getting paid under the table in order to survive. I couldn’t go to a shelter because I would have been turned over to the state, and I was afraid of the punishment I would receive when they brought me home. I won’t go into details, but it was rough. I met your father while I was working at a diner and got pregnant with you when I was 18. Two days before we were supposed to be married, he died in a bar fight outside of Austin. I almost gave you up for adoption, but the moment I saw you in my arms, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I should have, if only to give you the life you deserved.” My mother breaks down and sobs while Max consoles her. Once she has regained her composure, she begins again.
“Your father’s name was Derek Svenson. I never told you his name because it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want you to face the same rejection I did from his parents. When we were going to get married, they disowned him and never wanted to see us again.”
“Did you love him?” I ask.
“No, and he didn’t love me. We enjoyed each other’s company, but that was the extent of it. Savannah, at that point in my life, I never knew what love felt like or how to express it,” she says, pained by the admission.
“Not even when I was born?” I ask hesitantly.
“I loved you the best way I knew how, and I love you now. I just didn’t know how to show it. I thought by pushing you to be better, I was creating a life for you. I had worked so hard to make sure you had opportunities at the expense of everything else. That wasn’t fair to you, Savannah. If I could take it back and do things differently, I would do it in a heartbeat. Instead of loving you as a mother should, I was cruel and heartless, thinking only about myself.”
I spent the next hour telling her about my life from my perspective and revealing to her the diagnosis that the doctor gave me when I had her kicked out of the room. Gretchen breaks down and cries, sobbing almost hysterically. “I had no idea,” she tells me. “How could you ever forgive me?”
I’m honest with her. “It wasn’t easy, Mother. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But it’s done, and like Aiden once said, our slate is wiped clean. How can I ask God for forgiveness if I’m not willing to forgive others? I’ve had to take lives. Granted, it’s been to save innocents, but it still hurts in my heart. I’m far from perfect.”
“Aren’t we all,” Max says, the first words I’ve heard him utter today other than a quick “hello.”
“Mom, you said Aiden is part of the reason why you’re here. What did you mean by that?”
“I haven’t heard that word in so very long. I never thought I’d hear it again,” she says in place of an answer.
“Huh?”
Aiden squeezes my hand, “You called her ‘Mom’ instead of ‘Mother’ or ‘Gretchen.’ That’s a sign you’re on your way toward healing.” I hadn’t realized I had even said it, but Aiden is right. With understanding and seeing Gretchen truly remorseful, there is hope as we move forward.
“Savannah, I didn’t mean to avoid your question. When I turned my back on you at your last pageant, I was penniless and alone. I thought you would eventually come crawling back to me, but you never did. I was broken and destroyed inside; hate and despair were eating me up. I walked into a church, and Aiden was kind to me. I repaid him by spitting at him, if you can believe that. Rather than turn away, he sat next to me and prayed. I never forgot that, even when I cursed at him and left.
“Broke, both in spirit and finances, I ended up homeless. Aiden saw me in line at a shelter and served me a meal. He didn’t just give me food. He brought his own plate and sat across from me. We didn’t talk for months, but every time I came in, he would keep me company. Eventually, we became friends. He got me a job at the church, and the rest is history. Aiden never lost faith in me.”
There isn’t a dry eye in the room by the time she finishes her story. “The love of Jesus, the love of a good man, and the love of a good friend are the reasons I’m here. I prayed every day for you to return home just so I could tell you how much I love you, Savannah. I’m just sad that it took me so long to understand what that means.”
I’m not quite ready to say the words back, but I know with time, the day will come. But I give her what we both need at this moment. In a whisper, I say, “I forgive you.”