Authors: Elizabeth Nelson
“Savannah?”
She drew a deep breath. “Things have been a little difficult lately, but nothing we can’t worth through.”
“Are you sure?”
Savannah wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking on her part or if she was just telling Samuel something he could handle. The truth of how things actually stood terrified her.
She forced a smile to her face.
“Yes, brother. I am sure.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon together on South Beach, walking down Collins Avenue and stopping by any stores that caught their fancy, buying candy and pastries, Popsicles and chewing gum as they whiled away the hours and simply enjoyed each other’s company. At the tail end of the afternoon, Savannah left him when she got tired, her jet lag catching up with her.
She kissed her brother goodbye and promised to see him again in the next few days. As she was walking to her car in the parking garage, her phone rang. She stopped in the middle of the street when she saw the familiar number she’d used only once but already recognized. Instantly, she felt her tiredness disappear.
For a moment, she debated not answering the call. Then she pressed the “talk” button.
“Hello, Michael.”
“I’m glad you answered my call,” he said softly in her ear, a touch of amusement in his voice.
“You may be glad, but the jury’s still out for me.”
“Fair enough.” Then he actually laughed.
Was this the same man she’d talked to in Paris? He seemed downright relaxed on the phone with her, no sign of the frantic cop who was worried for her safety a few days before.
“Have some coffee with me before you go home,” he said.
She opened her mouth to refuse him but then she realized he was the only one she could talk with honestly about Graham and what he had done to her. She had enjoyed being with her brother, but at several points in the day she’d wanted to throw her arms around his shoulder and cry out of sheer helplessness.
“Where?” Savannah asked.
“There’s a place that sells great Cuban coffee and pastries not far from where you are. Meet me there in five minutes.”
Five minutes? Where...?
A feeling of unease settled in her stomach.
“Are you following me?” she asked.
“Of course I am,” Michael said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Then he hung up.
She met him at the bakery. Savannah walked into the small place and immediately spotted him at the last table in the back. He was hard to miss since there were only four small tables in the place. Michael was already drinking coffee. He had the sparse remains of a guava tart in front of him and a searching look on his face when she walked in.
“I’m still in one piece,” Savannah said as she sat down.
He took a few moments to verify that for himself, looking at her so closely that it was almost embarrassing. She felt as if he was touching her all over with his penetrating green eyes. She hadn’t had such a thorough once over since she went to the doctor. When he was satisfied, he sat back in his chair, raised his small Styrofoam cup of coffee to his lips. Savannah looked away from him.
“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.
“No thanks. Samuel and I were here about an hour ago. I think we ate one of everything.” She patted her stomach with a smile. “The baker here is a genius.”
“I won’t argue with that,” he murmured.
His lower lip was damp from a recent sip of coffee. The sudden desire to wipe her thumb across that full lower lip caught Savannah by surprise. She cleared her throat.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“We can’t just sit here and enjoy each other’s company?” His grin said he already knew the answer to that. Michael put down his coffee on the table top, the smile falling away from his face.
Savannah frowned at his suddenly serious expression. “What?”
“Graham was the one who broke into your apartment a few weeks ago.”
She stared at him. “What are you talking about? He didn’t even have a reason to do that.”
“He had a very good reason. To find out more about you in case you weren’t telling him everything he needed to know. And to panic you into moving in with him where he could have you under his control.” His mouth tightened. “If I saw a beautiful woman and had the means and no scruples, that’s how I’d do it.”
“I don’t believe you. At this point you’re just making up things to make me leave Graham.”
“I don’t have to make anything up, Savannah. You’ve already experienced enough to make you think hard about leaving. I can tell.”
She looked away from his perceptive gaze, but said nothing.
“I just wish you’d stop thinking so damn hard and start running.”
She shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. Her fears. Graham’s ex-wives. The possibility of ending her marriage that had only started last week. Sudden tears pricked at her eyes. Savannah jumped up from the seat, turning and walking quickly from the bakery before they could fall. She’d had enough of her own crying. She had to stop the waterworks sometime and act. Do something.
Her heels tapped across the sidewalk as she walked quickly away from Michael and further humiliation.
“Savannah, stop.”
He didn’t shout, but there was something in the man’s voice that made her instantly freeze on the sidewalk.
“I don’t want to spill my coffee,” he said with a wry smile. Michael glanced around them, motioned for her to follow him to a nearby bench.
She sank into the stone bench next to him with a sigh. Warm salt air moved through her lungs. She licked her lips and tasted it faintly on her tongue. She saw Michael’s eyes fall to her mouth and linger there.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m not going to try and force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I just want you to be careful. Don’t trust that he’ll take care of you.” He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees as he sipped his coffee. “That’s all I’m going to say about this.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He gave her another one of his smiles, full of meaning and mystery. “Go home to your husband. Just call me if you need anything.”
As he spoke, Savannah found herself dipping her head to listen properly to his soft words, closer until she realized their mouths were mere inches apart. She jolted with awareness and started to move back. Michael’s fingers touched the back of her neck, a light touch but it felt as definite and undeniable as a vice. She froze, waiting. And in that moment, he kissed her. She tasted the coffee on his lips. A hint of guava.
A snaking tongue of fire uncoiled inside her. She felt lashed where she stood. Astonished. Then Michael released her. Immediately, she felt the loss of his touch to her very marrow.
“No.” The denial gusted past her lips. She shot to her feet, shaking. Shaking her head.
“No.”
Savannah
ran. This time, she didn’t pay attention to the command in Michael’s voice that told her to stop, she only obeyed the urgent heartbeat fluttering inside her. Kissing him had been like putting her face against the sun. The blaze had been immediate and she’d never felt that with anyone. Not even Graham.
But this was wrong. It wasn’t something that she normally did. She wasn’t a cheater and even though she had her fair share of problems with Graham, including their imminent divorce, that was no reason for her to take another man into her bed.
At the unexpected thought of Michael in her bead, she flushed hot, then cold. He had controlled her so effortlessly.
She felt awful. Shameless.
Savannah ran quickly back to the parking garage where she had left her car. She jogged up the stairs to the 4th floor where she had left her little green Honda, not wanting the time in a slow-moving elevator to think about what had just happened between her and Michael. When she got to her car, there was already someone waiting near it.
Graham.
Her footsteps faltered. What was he doing here? Had he followed her too?
As she got closer to the car, he turned around. His face was a mask of rage. Eyes nearly white with his anger, so pale that he looked blind.
“Get in my car,” he said.
She opened her mouth to tell him she was fine driving her car when he grabbed her by the back of the neck, the same place that Michael had just touched her.
“Get in the fucking car. Now.”
He shoved her toward his waiting Mercedes that already had the door unlocked and ready for her. She stumbled into the car.
“What are you doing, Graham?!”
But he didn’t answer her. Instead he reached into his glove compartment and took out handcuffs. It looked like the same pair he kept in his bedside table.
“No!”
But he grabbed her arms, easily overpowering her, twisting her arms in front of her and snapping the cuffs on so tightly that it hurt.
“Fuck! What are you doing?”
This was so obviously not sex play that she didn’t bother with the meek and submissive act. She was scared.
Graham shot her a look meant to squelch her impertinence. But it only made her panic even more. She didn’t want to end up pushed into that couch again. She didn’t want to be humiliated by him having sex with another woman. She didn’t want his cruelty without his love. Savannah looked frantically around her, jerked in the seat to grab the door handle. The locks clicked home. Fear knocked at the base of her throat.
“Graham!”
He started the car and put it in gear. It glided smoothly through the garage and out to the street. For a brief moment, she thought about calling out, yelling that she was being taken against her will, but then Graham gave her a sharp look.
“It won’t do you any good. The windows are tinted. The car is soundproof. You’ll just humiliate yourself.”
But she tried anyway, screaming and bucking in the seat as the car drove through the streets. It felt so surreal, being in the grip of such fear while the car slid past people on the streets, smiling and laughing, going about their business like it was any other day. She felt like she was losing her mind. Terror at what he might have planned for her overtook Savannah until she could barely think. Could barely breathe. She screamed and screamed.
“Shut up!” Graham shouted.
His palm lashed out and smashed into her face. Pain slammed into Savannah’s head. He hit her again, this time with his fist, more pain, more terror.
Then everything went dark.
When she woke up, she realized she was on a boat. The lazy buzz of the engine, the water lapping against the hull. Graham looming over her as he steered the small boat to wherever he had planned. She was slumped at his feet, still handcuffed. She tasted blood in her mouth, felt a sickness in her stomach.
Savannah rolled over onto her side, fighting nausea and the sickening return of her fear. The handcuffs pulled tight on her wrists as she moved against the hard deck of the boat.
Graham looked down at her, his features only registering that she was a person and that she was awake. He stopped the boat, turned it off, and came to stand over her.
“I thought you were different,” he said. “I thought I could keep you, but you’re like all the rest. Greedy and disposable.”