Chapter Five
Savannah
I toss and turn all night, now having a face to go with the name I’ve heard so much about. I find myself dreaming about Cole “popping three” into a sweaty man’s forehead. How can such a nice, caring man be a stone-cold killer? I know it’s their job to take down bad guys, but the way the guys talk about him, it’s as though he doesn’t have a soul. Like Cole and Logan are two completely different people. I should have known Logan was his last name—that’s how they address everyone here. Abigail does speak fondly of him, and she seems to have a heart of gold. I rub my face roughly.
Why am I so bothered by this? Why do I care about him, anyway? All I am is a broken victim worth less than a frigging down payment for a house! It’s not like I can even figure out myself anymore. Finally, I give up, kicking off the covers and staring at the ceiling, and wait until morning.
I avoid Lo—Cole for the next four days, mainly staying locked in my room. I’m fine with not being around people. Some days I crave it, other times I don’t. I love my balcony, and I find that if I sit directly in the right corner near the wall, no one can tell I’m out there. I ask Abigail if she could have Dr. Roberts come to my room for our Monday session. I don’t offer an explanation, and she doesn’t ask. I can tell she is concerned about me hibernating, but I assure her I just need some time alone to “process.” It was, after all, what I had been doing for the past seven months. At least this time it was by choice.
I rub my thumb around my middle finger methodically while a flashback flickers in front of me. Then, suddenly, I am there, reliving it moment by moment.
“Where are you right now, Savannah?”
I hear the doc’s words, but they aren’t totally registering.
“Where you are? Is it safe?”
Safe?I think then slowly shake my head.
“Tell me what you’re seeing.”
“I’m at the place where they took me. I’m so scared. My knee really hurts. It keeps throbbing, and it feels warm and sticky, so I know I’m bleeding.” I pause, trembling. “There’s an American man here speaking to the others in English.” I swallow a growing lump. “Someone throws me to the ground. My knees hit the floor hard—it feels like brick or stone. My hands are tied behind me, and when I fall forward, I hit my face. I keep sucking the cloth bag they put over my head into my mouth when I try to breathe. They yank me back up to my knees, and I can see their shadows moving around in front of me. They keep yelling at each other.”
“Okay, you’re doing really well, Savannah. Can you make out what they’re saying?”
“T-the American is shouting something about proof—needing confirmation.” My breathing picks up, and my voice is shaky. “‘Es ella!’ one man shouts. I know what it means. He’s saying ‘It’s her!’ The American man doesn’t seem to believe him, then the cloth is pulled off my face.” I can tell I’m crying, but I can’t stop this flashback…can’t help the terror that’s ripping through me. “It’s dark. I can make out small lights, but my vision is blurry. Someone flashes a bright light in my face. They grab my chin to hold me still.”
“Can you see The American?”
“I-I’m so scared, my heart’s beating out of my chest. I can barely suck in a breath. The light shifts to the side for a moment, and I see him.”
“The American?”
“Y-yes,” I choke out. “His face is covered by shadow, but I can feel his eyes glaring down at me. He steps forward and makes the other man let go of my chin. He’s standing in front of me. My face is just above his belt. He smells like something familiar, but I can’t figure out what it is. He’s asking me if I’m Savannah Miller. I look up at him, and I see his cheeks rise—he’s smiling at me. I’m begging for him to help me, but he just laughs, and I see at the last minute, he makes a fist. I thought he was going to punch me, but he ends up slapping me across my cheek instead. I fall with no way to protect my face and hit my head on the bricks. His boots flicker in the dim light. They’re so distinctive.”
“What’s distinctive about them?”
My head shakes back and forth, and I break out in a sob. “They leave me on the ground while they continue talking, like I don’t exist. I’m crying and pleading for them to let me go, but they ignore me.” I’m full-out sobbing now and hiccupping as I speak. “Who are these people, why have they taken me? Why?”
“Savannah.” Dr. Roberts reaches out for me as I heave forward. “Come back to me. You’re safe.”
I look up at his friendly face.
“You’re safe, Savannah. You’re not there anymore.” He glances over my shoulder and shakes his head at something, but I’m too upset to care.
“Then why does it feel like I am?” I cry. “Every time I close my eyes or let my mind wander, I go back to my personal hell. Those men took so much from me. How do you come back from that? I hate them!” I curl myself into my protective ball. “How can anyone treat a human the way they treated me? I was nothing more than a scrap of human waste to them.”
“You’re not a scrap of anything, Savannah. You are a strong woman. You survived for those seven months, and you didn’t let them beat you down.”
“I didn’t want to live, though, Doc—I wanted to die,” I admit, gripping my chair and sucking in deep breaths. “I just had nothing to do it with, so I decided to starve myself. It was the only thing I—” I point to my chest, “the only thing I could control.” I wipe my eyes on my sleeve, trying to calm down. “Tell me, Doc, what does it mean when a person is willing to give up and die? Even now, after a miracle happened and I was saved, I still can’t eat. When I do eat, I feel guilty, like I’m betraying myself,” I hiss at him.
He takes off his glasses, cleaning the lenses. “What do you think that means?”
I roll my eyes. “A question with a question. Classic, Doc.”
He leans back and crosses his legs. “I’d say you hit the lowest point a person can go, so you made a promise to yourself that you intended to keep. Then you got rescued—something you never thought could happen—and when you left that room, perhaps you left a piece of yourself behind.” He thinks for a moment. “Savannah, you’ve only been free for three weeks. Give yourself a chance to heal, a chance for your brain to catch up with what has happened. In time, things will go back to normal. Maybe not exactly the same as it was, but a new normal that will feel right.”
I nod through a hiccup.