Page 16 of Freeing Savannah

“We are working to unravel new intel. By the time we reach Paris, my team should have some more answers,” he assured.

With a sudden, irrelevant outburst, she blurted, “Wait . . . I thought you were a SEAL. When did you become a bodyguard?”

His lips twitched as he fought a smile. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced her abrupt subject tangents. He’d frequently complained about the strangeness of her mind when they were kids. “I left the SEALs a few years ago. My commander startedhis security company and asked me to join him. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“Wow. Okay. I mean . . . I’m happy for you. From what little I’ve seen so far, you appear to be good at your job.”Way to go, Savannah. Could you sound more like an idiot?

His eyes, dark and intense, fixed on her. “I am. Which is why I can promise I’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She wanted to give her own head a good, hard smack for saying something so ridiculously foolish.Thank you. What was she thinking? Exhaustion suddenly made her limbs feel like heavy weights. She rubbed her temple again as the pain behind her eyes intensified.

Sawyer’s voice softened. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. If you want to back out, now’s the time.”

“You think I’m going to just walk away now? After diplomats from a dozen countries are expecting me? After all the ticket sales for the performances? Too many people are counting on this tour going smoothly. Counting onme,” she stated, her voice rising.

“I think we should be asking who’s really benefiting from this tour,” he shot back. “Because it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Silence dropped between them like a curtain.

She looked away, anger fading into a hollow ache she didn’t know what to do with. “I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted to play music. To feel like I mattered in something bigger than myself.”

“Youdomatter,” he said, stepping in close again. “You always did. Savi. I’m gonna convince you of that someday.”

Her eyes snapped to his, and for a moment, all the tension drained from her shoulders. Because when he called her that—Savi?walls slipped, and she was ten again, playing in the creek behind their houses.

But they weren’t kids anymore.

They were standing in the shadows of something that was starting to feel dangerous, and the only person she could trust was the one she believed knew her better than anyone else, even though he hadn’t seen her in twenty years.

CHAPTER 5

The soft humof the engines was the only sound in the darkened cabin, save for the occasional sigh or shuffle from one of the sleeping passengers. Kandy had her silk eye mask on and headphones in. Henry Patrick, the other singer who’d joined the tour last minute, was snoring under his cashmere blanket. Daphne Dempsey, who’d been introduced as Savannah’s assistant, shifted in the seat across the aisle before settling in sleep again. Brian Hammerstein, Savannah’s personal piano tuner and technician, sat in the seat across the aisle from them, earbuds in place, and tablet playing a movie in his lap. Even the crew members had gone still.

Sawyer hadn’t closed his eyes once.

He sat near the back, with Savannah in the seat beside him. Waiting. He’d given all the new names he’d learned to Haley to do her thing with SYBIL. He hoped by the time they landed, she’d have something for him. But something told him it wouldn’t be that easy.

Savannah hadn’t spoken much since the hangar incident. She’d smiled politely through the rest of the press frenzy, and the meet and greet with the other performers, musicians, and crew members. She’d boarded the jet with a grace that maskedhow shaken she’d been, then curled up in her seat beside the window with a blanket tucked under her chin.

But now he could see it. The tiny winces when the lights flickered. The way she pressed her fingers to her temple when she thought no one was looking.

Damn it. Migraine.

He remembered when she’d had them as a kid. He’d always felt so helpless when one struck. Hating to see her in so much pain, he’d learned everything he could about how to help her through them.

He rose quietly and went to the galley and asked the flight attendant there for headache medicine and a bottle of water. Sitting back down next to Savannah, he studied her face for a moment while her eyes were closed. Her features were pinched and drawn, a clear indication of the intense pain she was experiencing from her migraine. Her skin was smooth and far too pale for his liking. Even her lips hadn’t escaped the effects of her migraine. The dryness was evident, a pale and cracked surface that suggested dehydration.

She still resembled his Savi, though, but now she was more. More beautiful. More graceful. Just more.

He was still reeling from the surprise that she, of all people, had been his assignment. Even after twenty years had elapsed, he felt a connection to her that surpassed any other relationship he’d ever experienced. A bond that time could not diminish. He couldn’t help but wonder about the uncharted depths of their connection, the unspoken possibilities that lay ahead.

Careful not to wake anyone else, he touched her arm. “Hey,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “You hurting?”

Her eyes opened slowly. They were glassy, dulled with pain, and rimmed with fatigue.

“It’s not too bad,” she whispered. “Just started on the climb. Pressure change, maybe.”

He didn’t buy it, not for a second. “Lie to someone who didn’t watch you fight through these as a kid.”

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