“What?” My whiskey breath fogs the glass, as my forehead remains pressed to the window.
I don’t know why anyone would be knocking on my door. The whole point of staying in this guest room is to stay out of sight, but my household seems to be overrun with people doing whatever the fuck they want.
This room is on the second floor, opposite end of the house from the master bedroom, and over my office, meaning I have a partial view down into Savannah’s studio.
And even though she’s pulled the sheer curtains closed over all the windows, I can see the shadow of her as she moves through the space. I can watch her outline as she paints, even if I can’t make out the strokes of her brush.
She’s working too hard. In there all hours of the day and night. Pushing herself too far after what she’s been through.
Like now, it’s after midnight and the light is still on in her studio. I don’t have a view of the whole space, so I can’t be sure what she’s doing, but she’s awake. Because she always turns the lights off to sleep.
And that’s the worst part…
I take a deep breath, my exhale fogging my view all over again.
The worst part is that she’s no longer sleeping in our bed. She’s abandoned it just like I have. And that means I don’t get to have those few private moments with her anymore. The only moments I had where I was close enough to see her fading bruises. The only moments where I was able to feel the smallest lingering connection with her.
And it’s been nearly a week of this torment.
Not that I deserved better.
I don’t deserve any part of her.
I tried to get the staff to remove the bed she had made up in the corner of her studio, but they’ve taken to straight up defying my demands. Telling me to do it myself.
My fists clench on the windowsill.
Why can no one respect my decision here?
Why can no one understand that I’m doing this for her?
Another, slightly louder knock sounds at the door.
“What?!” I storm across the room. “What do you want?” I bellow, ripping the door open.
And then I freeze.
Because it’s her.
My Savannah.
The sight of her, this close, it pulls all the air out of my lungs.
She’s right there.
She’s too close.
“King.” Her voice is so quiet and tentative, it claws at my heart.
She’s still afraid of me.
Everything I’ve done to her flashes between us.
The broken lasagna pan at her feet.
“Knock that off.” I tighten my grip as I carry her away from Leland’s apartment. “I like ‘em heavy.”
“Remember what I said about shooting anyone that comes to help you?”
Making her fear Duke.
Her scream when she slipped down the steps, running away from me.
Showing her all those photos of her loved ones.
“You’ll marry me.”
Her scream before her head hit the steps, as she ran from one of my enemies.
The way she flinched.
The way I fucking hate myself.
“Can we talk?” Her voice trembles, and I force myself to look her in the eye.
Her bruises are mostly gone, only her arm brace remaining to tell of what she went through.
But she looks tired. Weary.
“Go to bed, Savannah.” I amaze myself that I even get the words out.
And before she can say more. Ask more of me. I push the door shut. And lock it.
It’s fucking childish. But I need the barrier. Because my own are failing. And if she came any closer, I’d pull her into my arms, no matter how much she fought me. And then I’d more than hate myself.
Mimicking my stance from the window, I drop my forehead against the door.
“Why won’t you come to our room?” Her question is a soft vibration in the wood.
And with the door between us, and with the image of her so fresh in my mind, I answer. “Because I get it now.” A fist tightens around my heart. “I thought…I thought I could make you…” I close my eyes. “I’ll never be able to let you go, Savannah. By letting people know you were mine, I ruined any chance you had at a normal life. And I’m sorry I can’t fix that. But I’ll leave you alone.”
“Were?” Her voice cracks, and I don’t know what emotion she’s feeling. And I’m grateful for the door, because if it’s relief… I couldn’t handle seeing that.
“You’ll always need a guard. But you’re free to do what you want. I can give you that much.”
A soft thud hits the other side of the wood, and I imagine she’s standing just how I am.
“I don’t understand.” Her words are softer, almost inaudible.
I slide my head lower, so it’d be even with hers. “Maybe you never meant for me to see it. But I did.” I squeeze my eyes tighter. “You flinched away from me.” Fuck, my heart hurts. “And it’s okay, Baby. I don’t blame you for being afraid of me.”
The pause that follows says it all.
“Good to bed, Savannah.”
I step away from the door, and flip on the stereo. Filling the room with noise, so I don’t have to listen to her silence.
