Chapter Twelve
Savannah
I flop on my bed after changing into a tank and yoga pants, and wrap my sweater around me, needing to feel safe. The drive home played on some buried emotions that are surfacing quickly. I close my eyes and fall asleep immediately.
“Savi.” I stir. “Savannah,” Abigail whispers loudly, “wake up, please!”
I pry my eyes open and see her frantic expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“You need to go down to Cole’s office before he kills him!”
I sit straight up, and it feels like the room is tilting to one side. “Oh, no!” I jump out of bed and run down the hallway, taking two steps at a time. My heart is pounding in my ears as I shove open the door to his office. Cole has York by the neck against the wall. Mark is shouting something.
“Cole! No!” I run over to him. “Please don’t do this.”
“How could you hurt her?” Cole yells at York, ignoring me.
York is struggling to breathe.
I reach up and touch Cole’s arm; it’s like steel.
“Cole, please look at me!” I beg.
“Savannah, get out of here!” Cole yells, barely hanging on to his temper.
Keith blows into the room. “What the fuck?”
“No, Cole,” I cry, trying to get his attention. “Look at me. I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
“Mark!” Cole barks out, making me jump.
Mark comes over quickly and pulls my sweater off my shoulders.
“Mark!” I shriek. “What the hell?”
Cole’s gaze flickers over at me, taking in the bruises on my arms. His eyes instantly grow dark and angry. He punches York in the gut, doubling him over.
York collapses, gasping for air and clutching his midsection.
I yank my sweater back up, tears streaming down my face. “I trusted you. I can’t believe you told him!” I scream at Mark.
“He didn’t.” Cole’s voice is like ice. He’s standing perfectly still, staring down at York. “I watched the tapes.”
“Savannah,” Mark says, ignoring my last comment, “tell Cole what York threatened you with.”
What is Mark doing? Is he trying to make the situation worse? “Mark, stop.” I’m shaking, and my emotions are shot all over the wall. I just want this to end.
“Savannah.” Cole doesn’t sound like himself, and it’s borderline scary.
I look at York, who is giving me the nastiest look I’ve ever seen. My mouth dry, I run my trembling fingers through my hair. I feel sick.
York pulls himself up to his feet and stands like he is getting ready to fight.
I step back as he shakes his head at me.
He moves his hand up to his lip, wiping off the blood. “Aww, Savi, we could have had something beautiful,” he smarms. “You should’ve kept your fucking mouth shut. Bad move.” He chuckles then starts coughing.