Chapter 286: Fighting Fate
Reese
For a moment, I wasn’t sure I had heard Savannah correctly. She
stood near the window, her back to me, arms wrapped tightly around
her middle as though she were trying to hold herself together.
The night outside stretched wide and silent, the glass reflecting her
pale face in faint fragments. She didn’t turn. She didn’t move. She
simply stood there as if whatever she had just said required distance
to survive being spoken aloud.
Or maybe she thought not looking at me would make it easier.
“Come again,” I said slowly. “I didn’t quite catch that.‘
Her shoulders stiffened. Then she turned. Her eyes were red, but not
from weakness. They were red from restraint–from holding
something back until it could no longer be contained.
“I’m sorry if I sound selfish,” she said, voice rough but steady. “I’m
sorry if I sound inconsiderate or bitchy or whatever label you might
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decide to put on me in your head. I want you to understand that I am
just a wife and a mother.”
She swallowed hard.
“Roman is with me now. He’s mine. I mean… he’s supposed to be.
We’re having a child together.” Her voice trembled, and she steadied
it with visible effort. “But most of the time, I feel like he’s not. I feel
like I’m sharing him.”
I braced myself without realizing I was doing it. Her words didn’t
come out in a rush. They came slowly and carefully like something
being placed one fragile piece at a time.
“Sometimes I feel like he isn’t entirely mine. Like after everything
we’ve been through… he still isn’t completely mine.”
“No,” I cut in quickly, instinctively. “That’s not true. My brother is obsessed with you. He’s completely and entirely yours. He loves you
more than he loves himself. Honestly, Savannah, I think you’re
probably just-”
She turned away at once, shaking her head firmly. “No. I’m not
paranoid. And I’m not crazy,” she said, a quiet, bitter laugh slipping
out. “I know exactly what you were going to say.”
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Her arms tightened around herself again. She inhaled slowly, as if
searching for words that wouldn’t betray her. “How do I explain this
to you?” she murmured.
I pushed away from the table and stepped closer. “Explain what?”
She turned back toward me. “How do I explain to you that I feel like
I’m in competition for Roman’s attention… with a dead woman?”
The words landed heavily in the room and I didn’t know what to say.
She must have seen it in my face, because her composure cracked.
Tears welled in her eyes, clinging to her lashes before slipping free.
“How do I say that it hurts hearing him talk about her?” she
continued, voice breaking now. “That it hurts seeing him fight for
her? That he’s willing to put his life–and mine–and our child’s life
in danger for her?”
I reached out carefully and placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Savannah… calm down.”
She shook her head sharply, tears spilling faster.
“He’s going to go against Reginald,” she said, voice rising with fear,
“He’s going to do it blinded by revenge and guilt and anger, and he’s
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not thinking clearly. Your father is not going to hand over those tapes
just because Roman demands it. You know that. You know exactly
what kind of man he is.”
I did know. And the knowledge sat heavy on my chest like cold iron.
“It’s not that I don’t understand,” I said carefully. “Maybe you can try
talking to Roman. Or if you want me to step in, I will. I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “This
isn’t about talking. That moment has already passed. He woke up…
and the first thing he demanded was those tapes.”
She grabbed my shirt suddenly, her fingers clutching the fabric like it
was the only stable thing in the room.
“Tell me how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
Her eyes searched mine, desperate and raw.
“Savannah-”
“I’m afraid for him,” she said, the words tumbling out faster now. “I’m
afraid something terrible is going to happen to him. To us. Your
father isn’t going to let Roman walk away after threatening him. He’s
not that kind of man.”
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She released my shirt and turned away again, dragging her hands.
through her hair. “And then he mentioned my life… and the baby’s…”
Her voice fractured.
“I swear nothing will happen to you,” I said firmly. “Nothing will
happen to your child.”
She spun around. “Can’t you see that this is all because of her?!”
The force of her voice startled even her.
“If we hadn’t insisted on finding the men who hurt her, we never
would have gone to New Hope. Roman wouldn’t have been shot. We
wouldn’t be here. Don’t you see it? Your father has been pulling the
strings the entire time.”
My head began to pound. Every piece of what she said held fragments
of truth, twisted together by fear.
She stepped closer again and grabbed my hands. Her grip was tight,
almost desperate.
“I want to leave this place with Roman,” she said quietly. “Alive and
well. That’s all I want. We’ll have a big wedding later. We’ll celebrate.
We’ll live. We’ll raise our child in peace.” Her eyes softened for a
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