Page 15 of Freeing Savannah

“I know what you’re up to. You won’t get away with it.”

The press surged forward again like sharks, cameras back up, feeding off the sudden shift in energy.

“Who is that? What is he talking about?” someone shouted.

Sawyer reached the man first, pinning him against a support beam with a forearm to the chest. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain yourself or you’re going facedown on the concrete.”

“I tried to warn them,” the man wheezed. “She’s not safe.She’s not safe!He’s using her.”

He was looking straight at Savannah.

Not Kandy. Not the Senator.Her.

Harlan stepped in front of her before she could move, motioning to the agents who swarmed toward Sawyer and the man.

“Get him out of here,” the Senator snapped to the agents, his voice suddenly tight.

“Wait,” Sawyer shouted. “I have more questions.”

“He’ll be questioned thoroughly, sir,” one agent replied sharply, the metallic clang of handcuffs echoing in the tense silence as he pulled the man away from Sawyer, whose eyes blazed with barely suppressed fury.

Savannah stared as the man was dragged away, still shouting, his words growing more frantic.

“I know what I know! You have to be stopped!”

Then he was gone.

The hangar rang with stunned silence. The press didn’t know whether to call it a security scare or a public relations nightmare.

Savannah’s insides twisted in a way that told her this wasn’t random. His wild eyes spoke of desperation. Desperatefor herto hear.

Her gaze found Sawyer. He was watching her now, chest heaving slightly, expression unreadable.

In that moment, the weight of the cameras, the Senator, the press tour, all of it faded.

Because for the first time, Savannah wasn’t just uncomfortable.

She was afraid.

The press was still buzzing behind them, voices rising like a hive in full panic mode, but Savannah had already slipped away from the Senator with Sawyer close behind her.

She stopped in a dim corner lined with storage crates and spun to face him. “What the hell was that?” she hissed, arms crossing over her chest, more to hold herself together than anything else.

Sawyer didn’t answer right away. His hand ran through the too long strands of his dark hair, jaw tight as he scanned the area like someone expecting an ambush.

“Sawyer.” She hated the tremble in her voice as she spoke his name, the sound of it a desperate plea escaping her lips.

His gaze snapped back to hers. “I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out.”

“You don’tknow?” Her voice was louder than she meant, brittle and sharp. She felt just as brittle as her voice. Like she could snap at any moment. The migraine was building in intensity, and she rubbed her temple with one hand. “That man . . . He looked at me like . . .like he knew something about me. Something I don’t. And he said I’m not safe.”

“At this point in time, youaresafe,” he said flatly.

That stopped her cold.At this point in time. . . what did that mean? She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

He stepped closer, voice low and deadly calm. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You can trust me in that. My team and I will find out what’s going on.”

“What’s there to find out?” she asked, denial thick in her throat. If only she could live there permanently. But as the departure date approached, a growing unease, like a tightening knot in her stomach, had unsettled her. She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

---