Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
SAVANNAH
My entire body jolts as I wake up, making a hiss escape my lips as the pain hits me in full force.
Logan must have dressed me in one of his shirts because I’m no longer wearing my torn sweater. I swallow a groan as I think about how awkward that must have been for him.
Not what I should be focusing on right now.
I slept on and off throughout the night, the nightmares I’ve struggled with for so long twisting into something even uglier.
“You’re awake.”
I tilt my head to look at Logan, where he sits in front of his computer. He’s been there all night, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept.
I’m so fucking grateful for him. I’m not sure I would have gotten through this entire thing if not for him, and I tell him as much.
“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t fucking thank me for that, Savannah.
I should have… I don’t know. I just wish I could have stopped it from happening to begin with.
I’m sorry you went through what you did, but I’m not going to let you get hurt again.
” His words settle somewhere deep in the marrow of my bones, and my body vibrates.
I begin to tremble, my breathing coming out in short pants, and I replay the night in my mind.
The way he cornered me.
The way he spoke to me.
The stench of his breath against my face.
How he pushed me to the ground.
The feeling of his boot kicking me over and over.
The sight of him looking down at me, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.
The way it felt when he pulled on my hair
The way the light left his eyes when I—
“Sav. Savannah, look at me.” Logan’s voice snaps me back to the present, and I find him kneeling next to the bed, his hands surrounding mine as he anchors me.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
It’s okay. I’m okay.
Except I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay for a long time.
“Why would he do this to me? Why does he hate me so much?” I whisper, my voice cracking.
Logan’s brows crease. “You mean the guy from last night?” he asks, and I slowly shake my head.
“My father.”
Logan stands slowly, his body stiff. “Are you… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“It was a message. He wanted to give me an example of what would happen if I don’t keep in line. It was my punishment for not doing what he wants, and I think last night was only the beginning.”
His fists clench, and he inhales deeply, as though he’s trying to control his reaction. I appreciate it, since I’m not sure how I’d respond to a show of aggression right now.
“This is my fault,” he mutters quietly, almost quietly enough for me not to hear him, and I go to interject, but he keeps speaking, louder this time.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on your dad, building evidence against him to take him down, but I didn’t think he’d do something like this.
I knew he was a piece of shit, but I… I didn’t think he would…
that he’d…” He trails off and shakes his head.
“From now on, you’re not going anywhere alone.
I’m putting cameras around your dorm so I can make sure you’re safe.
Or maybe you should stay here, though that might make everything more complicated… ”
“I’m not staying here.” Absolutely not. It’s hard enough having to see Harley around campus and in classes, but to live with him?
I wouldn’t survive it. “And you’re not putting cameras inside my dorm.
You’re already stalking one girl, I’m not about to be the second.
” I send him a pointed look, and his eyes widen in shock before he quickly masks his reaction.
“What? I woke up to see you sitting in front of your computer, watching some girl sleep through a camera.”
His mouth opens before he quickly snaps it shut, and he glares at me, but it lacks anger behind it. He stays silent, and I guess we’re not going to talk about whoever she is, though, it does make me wonder if that’s what he’s always doing on his phone.
I should probably be disgusted at him watching someone like that, but I honestly can’t imagine him doing it to hurt her.
Maybe my judgment is clouded because of how much he’s helped me in the last couple of years—especially last night—but I just can’t muster up the concern when there’s so much else going on right now.
Deciding it’s probably best to change the subject, I shift and start to get up. “Where’s your bathroom?” I ask.
“Directly across the hall.” He nods toward the door.
“Are you feeling okay? We didn’t get to talk much before you passed out, so I don’t know if you need anything.
I know you’re going to be in pain, so just let me know if you need anything to take the edge off.
You never should have had to deal with…” He tapers off, his jaw ticking.
“I’m okay,” I say softly. I’m in freaking agony, but I survived, and that’s more than I can say for the man who did this to me.
He nods once, and I head for the door.
Only, once I open it, it doesn’t lead me to an empty hall like I expected. Harley is sitting on the floor, his back resting against the opposite wall, and his eyes widen at the same time as mine.
He scrambles to his feet, shifting from one foot to the other before he takes a step forward. My heart stops dead in my chest, a myriad of mixed emotions bubbling up inside me.
Relief, shock, fear, anticipation, anger, and debilitating sadness.
“Savannah,” he rasps, and my heart kickstarts in my chest, beating so fast I feel like I may collapse.
His gaze runs over me, a spark of anger in his eyes, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m here in his home, because I’m wearing Logan’s clothes, or because of what happened.
And honestly? I don’t care which it is. Harley has been the center of everything for so long, but right now? Right now, I really don’t care about his thoughts and feelings. I need to put myself first for once.
“I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?” His eyes search mine, and I try to come up with a response, but I only end up stammering, my gaze flicking to Logan for help.
I don’t know what to do or say, I don’t know what to tell him, and I can’t manage to get a single word to slip past my lips. I’m completely and utterly silent as I stare at him.
“Harley,” Logan warns, and they have a silent conversation between themselves before Harley brings his attention back to me.
His expression is soft, his eyes not holding the burning hatred that I’m so used to seeing in them, and he puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. It may seem casual, but the stiffness in his arms tells another story. He’s forcing himself not to reach out and touch me, which I’m grateful for.
“I’m sorry, Sav,” he whispers before spinning on his heel and walking away.
I’m not sure what he’s sorry for, and I’m not sure I care. I feel numb to everything right now, and that’s the way I like it. I don’t want to feel.
Because the moment I start feeling, will be the moment I shatter.