“Yes, dear?”
“I can’t seem to find Max. Can I have him call you back?”
“Yes, of course. Savannah, I hope you feel better soon.”
She hung up. She wasn’t ill. The walls of the entryway seemed to close in on her, and she was assaulted by a wave of dizziness. Breath coming in fast pants, she swayed, certain she was going to pass out.
She turned away and raced back into the kitchen where she slipped into a chair at the table. She leaned her elbows on the wooden table, holding her head with her hands as she let out a sob.
Oh, God.
She was afraid of going outside? Why? Stanton hadn’t kidnapped her from here, it had been miles away, closer to Freestown. So why would she fear leaving the house?
Richard Stanton had only held her for a few short hours before her men had rescued her. But those hours had been enough for him to terrorize and hurt her. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to stop when she saw someone flagging her down. Logan had warned her time and again to be careful, to not trust too easily.
She’d learned the hard way he was right.
She could still remember the way her arms had ached with the strain of them being tied above her head. In pain and exhausted from his beatings, she’d lean her weight on her arms only to cry out in agony at the pull on her muscles. He’d laughed at her pain. He’d enjoyed it.
She swallowed, feeling ill.
She didn’t know how Laken had survived being held for three days by that bastard. Her friend still blamed herself for Savannah being taken, even though they’d told her it wasn’t her fault.
Poor Laken. Three years ago, she’d been kidnapped after leaving a BDSM club in New York. For three days, she’d been beaten, whipped, cut, and terrified.
And she’d never had any idea that her tormentor was her boss. He’d worn a mask and used something to disguise his voice, then, afterwards, he’d played the part of concerned employer. Even helping Laken move to a more secure apartment and paying for a counsellor.
Sick bastard.
He’d watched Laken for years. Then when she’d moved to Haven and got involved with Duncan who was a Dom, he’d come after her once more.
Unable to get to her, he’d taken Savannah instead.
She shuddered.
Since he’d been captured, the cops had been looking into the disappearance of his ex-wife again. She went missing a month after they separated along with her boyfriend. The police now believed he killed her in a fit of rage after discovering that she’d been going to BDSM clubs with her new boyfriend.
Her stomach bubbled, and she took a deep breath, trying to repress the memories, the feel of the whip as it bit into her skin, the searing pain, the sound of her pain-filled screams, and his laughter.
That protective shell she’d wrapped around herself was cracking. The memories slipping in. She tried to pull it around herself. Bury everything deep. But she couldn’t. The emotions were too raw, too painful.
She rubbed her hand over her face, trembling.
She tensed as she heard the door open.
“Savannah? Where are you, love?”
Max.
“I-in here.”
He walked in, and she took in his gorgeous face. He looked tired, and his shoulders were slightly slumped. Was he okay?
Max was always the one who held them all together. Who dragged Logan away from whatever project was keeping him occupied and made him enter the land of the living. He was the one who always calmed her when she was in a panic or upset.
But there was a distance between them now. One she’d put there, she realized. With her need to protect herself from any more pain, she’d pushed away her men. Now, they looked at her differently. They acted differently.
When was the last time they’d told her they loved her? Threatened to spank her? Usually, they wouldn’t put up with her shutting them out.