Chapter Thirteen Savannah #3
Even though I am officially on sabbatical from my job, I only have three months of salary to invest in Red Rock. Plus, I have my own bills and rent and a car payment and insurance. Life in Denver didn’t end when I left.
I guzzle another glass of wine before the food hits the table.
Mindy keeps up a steady stream of chatter.
I nod and smile and pipe in when I need to.
But the more I drink, the more my thoughts keep tripping dangerously back to Blaze and the way he looked at me last night, the way he barreled over at the first hint of trouble and protected me when Tyler just backed away and watched.
I wanted to be angry at Blaze for suggesting I’m some weak little girl who can’t handle herself because, dammit, I’m not her.
But the truth is, it felt so damn good, knowing I made him that feral.
The rest of the meal passes in a bit of a tipsy blur. When I finally stand up, my legs buckle. I grab the back of my chair to steady myself. Wyatt puts a hand on my shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks.
I fan my face. “Wow, is it warm in here?”
Mindy chuckles. “Yep. With all the wine you just sucked down, your body temperature’s gotta be blazin’.”
Oh, that’s punny. And she doesn’t even know it.
I take a step away from the table, and my ankle twists. I grab the chair again . . . too late, and Wyatt catches me before my ass hits the floor.
I look up at him. “Um, maybe I shouldn’t drive right now.”
“Yeah, lemme give you a lift home. I just need to stop at my place real quick first.”
He snakes an arm around my shoulders, and we walk out of the restaurant together.
I take a deep breath, my brain fuzzy from all the wine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t eat anything this morning, so I guess the wine hit me harder than I thought it would.”
“You deserve to unwind a bit.” He turns the key in the ignition once we get into the car. “So you and Mindy seemed to be getting along,”
“She’s nice.” I smile at him. “You like her?”
He gives a half shrug. “Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Oh, you do like her,” I exclaim. “You need to take her out. She kept sneaking looks at you. She probably thought I didn’t notice, but I totally did.” My head falls back against the seat, eyes drooping closed.
I don’t know how much time passes before Wyatt shakes me. “Hey, you know you’re drooling, right?”
I shoot up from the seat and wipe the corners of my mouth. “Jesus, Wyatt. Don’t say everything you think, okay?”
He chuckles. “So sensitive. Are you coming in with me, or do you wanna stay here and drool some more?”
With a roll of my eyes, I open the door and step onto the running board. Unfortunately, one of my feet completely misses it, and I slide onto the ground, hanging onto the door so I don’t wind up face-first in the mud.
Wyatt just shakes his head and laughs. Then he offers me a hand and leads me up the stairs. Once we’re inside, he says, “I have to run downstairs for a few minutes. Just hang out here.”
I pace in front of the large stone wall fireplace in the living room after the basement door closes. Framed photos line the mantel. I trace my finger over them, stopping at one in particular where Blaze is probably around fifteen, his eyes bright, smiling wide. I rub my finger over the dusty glass.
What the heck happened to him? How did he become this dark, closed-off shell of the guy I fell in love with?
Still woozy, I grab onto the mahogany banister and wander upstairs. The scent of Blaze’s cologne wafts under my nose as I step toward his old bedroom. It cloys my senses, making me think things I shouldn’t.
I hate him. Hate him.
And if he were here, I’d tell him so.
I push open his door a crack, just to peek inside. It hasn’t changed. Same dark-blue walls, same baseball posters on the walls, same sports trophies lining the bookshelves because Blaze never had much interest in books.
I tiptoe inside, my feet creaking as I step across the scuffed floorboards. Stopping at his dresser, I spot metal dog tags. As I peer at the tiny letters, my brows furrow.
Liam Townsend.
Why does Blaze have these? Shouldn’t Liam have them?
“What are you doing here?”
I yelp, dropping the chains. They clatter on the top of the dresser, and Blaze reaches past me to scoop them up. He opens the top drawer and drops them inside before slamming it shut.
“Who’s Liam Townsend?” I ask.
“Leave it alone, Savannah.” Blaze’s eyes ice over.
I toss my hands into the air. “Right. ’Cause you’re a vault, right? Can’t ever say what you feel or answer a question honestly. I should’ve known better than to ask.” With a huff, I push past him. “I need to go.”
My hand on the doorknob, I turn back to face him. The bitter taste of anger dances on my tongue. Screw that. I’m not going anywhere. Not until he hears what I want to say, what I’ve been aching to say for so long.
“You’re a coward, you know that? You walked away when things got real.”
“You have no idea what I’ve done to keep you safe.” His voice is flat, empty, void of any emotion at all.
That pisses me off even more.
“Keep me safe.” I scoff. “What a joke. Why are you back here, Blaze? You couldn’t wait to leave me before.”
And you left me with so much more than a broken heart.
My pulse spikes, my mind tripping back to that night in Denver years ago. The crippling pain that sent me to the emergency room. And the blood. So much blood.
I pull open the door when he doesn’t respond, my breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. I clutch the railing, trying to pull myself together.
He doesn’t even bother to come after me.
A deep sigh deflates my chest.
Because he doesn’t care. And deep down, I know he never really did.