Broken (Broken Trilogy Book 1)(16)

“Interesting.”

“I can see that. Have you made your decision on whether you want to stay or go home?”

I let out a long breath, okay here it goes, “I-I think I’d like to stay.”

His face speaks volumes though I’m not sure why he cares so much. What am I to him but some head case?

“That’s a smart idea Savannah.” He moves over to his filing cabinet pulling out some paperwork which he places front of me. “Like I said before, if you wish to stay you’ll need to sign a few waivers, an NDA, ahh that is a non-disclosure agreement.”

I nod, glancing at the papers.

“This is a document stating that while you’re here and after you leave you will never give up the location of this house. You’ll never discuss why you’re here with anyone outside of this house. If you leave the property you’ll have an escort with you at all times, that’s for your own protection as well as ours, Savannah, someone could be following you and you could lead them right back to us. Know that you can leave at any time but there’s no coming back—we will not protect you a second time. Do you think you can handle all this, being under this much protection? This many rules? You will be totally isolated from your past life.”

“I’ve already lost seven months of my life to those bastards, if this is what it takes to gain back my life then so be it.”

I read everything carefully, making sure I understand every word. “Pen please.” He hands me one from his breast pocket and I stroke the pen over the black line—Savannah Miller.

He holds out his hand. “Welcome to our house.”

I slip my hand in his noting how small mine was to his.

Something flickers over his face and slowly he pulls away leaning back.

I hop to my feet, not wanting to take up any more of his time plus I need to get some air, I feel like I just signed my life away.

I pause at the door. “Thank you, Logan, for saving me.”

His smile reaches his eyes. “It was my pleasure, Savannah.”







I find Abigail waist deep in laundry. She looks beyond stressed and at the same time has a few of the guys asking her a million and one questions, so I leave her be. She doesn’t need to babysit me. I am familiar enough with the house and grounds now to be somewhat comfortable. I walk down to the lake and around the shore—it is becoming one of my most favorite places. Everything is so quiet. Not ‘empty’ quiet the way my prison was; this is different, it’s a comfortable, peaceful place. I don’t feel as lonely because of all the wonderful soft sounds that surround me. Funny how this kind of quiet isn’t really quiet at all. Plus knowing that there are men hidden in trees all around brings a sense of comfort. I miss my father terribly and I miss Lynn even more—I even miss my job but I think living in constant fear would have destroyed me more than the prison would have. Yes, the decision to stay is the right choice for me, at least I hope.







Poor Abigail was still pumping out laundry when I returned several hours later. She looked exhausted so I decided to help her out.

I make my way into the kitchen and open the freezer pulling out a mountain of steaks. I look at the calendar that Abigail referred to every night and see that there will be fifteen attending tonight’s dinner. I set out the meat to thaw while prepping the toppings. I wrap large potatoes in tin foil and chop enough carrots to feed a small army. I cut the bottoms off the asparagus and drizzle oil, salt, and pepper over top. While the oven heats I peel and chop apples, tossing them into three large casserole dishes with cinnamon, sugar, and a little butter, putting an oat crumble over top.

It shouldn’t surprise me that the BBQ is so huge—what isn’t huge around here? But nonetheless it is very intimidating to light. I manage to fire it up finally and start the potatoes without setting the house on fire.

Within an hour the kitchen starts to smell lovely. I pull out the three apple crisps, setting them aside to cool.

“What is that smell?” I hear someone yell which is followed by heavy footsteps. “Good God, my mouth is actually watering!” Mark Lopez, the guy from last night comes around the corner. “Hello Savi.” He grins looking around. “Are you cooking? Please tell me what the heavenly smell is.” He takes a seat on a stool opposite me at the island.

“Apple crisp.” I point to the desserts on the counter.

“Well fuck me sideways…she speaks.” He raises a playful eyebrow.

“She does,” I shoot back with a smirk. He cracks me up.

“Yes, yes, I’ll think of something maybe I’ll order a pizza—” Abigail stops short when she enters the kitchen, hanging up her cell phone. “Savannah?” She looks shocked.