Chapter 53 Reckoning Echoes
Reckoning Echoes
Savannah sat in her car, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping her from floating into the abyss.
She had spent the last thirty minutes alternating between deep breathing exercises, cursing Mallory for convincing her to do this, and internally rehearsing exactly what she would say to Chase.
And then her phone vibrated. She didn’t even have to check the name.
Mallory: I’ll let you know when to come in.
Mallory: And holy shit, he is looking so fucking fine.
A second later, a picture popped up.
Savannah barely had time to process before her entire soul left her body.
Chase—Standing next to Mallory, looking unfairly, illegally good.
The black button-up stretched just right across his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up, showcasing those strong forearms and tattoos she had once traced with her fingers.
Worn jeans that fit too well, just distressed enough to be effortlessly attractive.
And the boots—because of course, Chase was still a boots guy.
But it was the hat that did her in.
A simple, old baseball cap, pulled low enough that his ocean-blue eyes glowed beneath the dim bar lighting.
Savannah stared at the picture, mouth slightly open, brain short-circuiting.
And then, without thinking, she did the dumbest thing possible.
She zoomed in. Why did she zoom in?!
Mallory’s text bubble popped up again.
Mallory: Sav? You still breathing?
No. No, she was not.
She scrambled to type back, her fingers betraying her at every turn.
Savannah: This was a mistake.
Savannah: I cannot physically handle this.
Savannah: Mallory, I will pass away.
Mallory: lol.
Mallory: Listen, babe, if you don’t get your ass in here, I might just keep him for myself.
Savannah gasped.
Savannah: You wouldn’t dare.
Mallory: Try me.
Savannah groaned, letting her head fall back against the headrest.
This was so much worse than she had expected.
The plan was supposed to give her the upper hand. He was supposed to be out of his element, off balance. Instead, Chase was thriving. Gus and Earl loved him, Mallory was too comfortable, and now she was sitting here like a wreck because—
Because damn it, she wasn’t over him.
Not even a little.
Her phone buzzed again.
Mallory: Savannah. Get in here. Now.
Savannah exhaled sharply.
This was it. Time to face him.
With one final, desperate pep talk "You will NOT die, you are a strong, confident woman, and if you panic, just order a shot and pray"—as she threw open the car door.
Her legs felt like jelly as she crossed the street, her pulse a chaotic drumbeat against her ribs.
Savannah stepped inside The Hollow, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her ears.
The Hollow smelled like aged whiskey and warm candlelight, a heady mix of nostalgia and temptation that wrapped around her the moment she stepped inside. Neon lights flickered against the exposed brick, the hum of conversation rising and falling beneath the occasional burst of laughter.
And there, in the center of it all—was Chase.
Her breath stilled.
He hadn’t seen her yet.
But she saw him. And she felt it.
That undeniable, gravitational pull. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he existed, how he commanded attention without even trying.
People naturally gravitated toward him, drawn in by his easy confidence, his laugh—a sound she hadn’t heard in over a year but still recognized instantly.
He moved through the crowd like he belonged there, every nod of recognition, every quick grin, sending a fresh wave of longing through her.
Mallory caught sight of her from across the room, lifting a subtle brow as if to say well? Motioning for her to come over.
Savannah forced herself forward, her heart hammering with every step.
By the time she reached the bar, her mouth was dry, her throat tight.
"Drink?" Gus asked, leaning on the bar in front of her.
Savannah’s mouth was too dry to answer, so she just nodded.
Gus, however, had already noticed something else.
His gaze flicked between Savannah and the man holding court across the room.
Savannah watching Chase.
Chase, oblivious.
A slow, knowing smirk curved Gus’s lips.
“Well, damn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head like he had just put together the final piece of a puzzle.
Savannah tore her gaze away from Chase long enough to glance at Gus. “What?”
Gus wiped his hands on a bar towel, looking entirely too amused.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just—this is about to get real interesting.”
Before she could ask what the hell that meant, Mallory spoke.
“You okay?”
Savannah turned to her, but Mallory wasn’t looking at her.
She was looking at him.
And Savannah saw it.
The realization hit her square in the chest—Mallory liked Chase.
Not in a serious way, but—in a Mallory way. The way her eyes lingered on him, just a little longer than necessary. The way her lips curved just slightly as she watched him move through the crowd, laughing, joking, absolutely thriving in this moment.
Because Chase was fun.
That was what Savannah loved about him. And that was what she had been trying to pretend she didn’t miss.
It wasn’t just the way he looked at her, or the way he had once made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was the way he existed—fully, unapologetically, bringing energy to everything around him.
Mallory felt it too. And for the first time, Savannah saw him through someone else’s eyes.
She had been so convinced that he had been suffering without her. That he had spent the past year as miserable as she had. But watching him now—laughing, confident, magnetic—she felt like she had stepped outside of her own perspective for the first time.
Had she actually believed he’d been standing still all this time?
Had she really thought he would have been stuck in place, waiting for her?
The realization hit her like a freight train. Her stomach twisted, a sharp, painful pull in her chest.
And then—
Then he saw her.
Chase turned, mid-laugh, looking for Mallory—and his gaze landed on Savannah instead.
And everything stopped.