Savannah and I used to be that one constant in my life—the one thing I knew I could count on. It’s like we were written in the stars…destined to be together. Even growing up apart from her, I always hoped we’d find each other again someday. It wasn’t until I found proof of my father’s warning that I finally understood why he wanted me to stay away from her. I drank so much that day, my mom was afraid I’d need my stomach pumped.
The next morning, I had made two vows to myself—I’d never give someone the ability to hurt me that way again, and I’d get my revenge on the ones who betrayed him. Betrayed me. I just never expected I’d end up as broken as she is. Tyson may have a point after all.
I TAKE A DEEP breath as I reach up and knock, loosening the tie around my neck just a little. No part of me is sure about this, or about what I plan on doing afterward, but it’s a step. The door swings open, and I’m met with two wide green eyes. Delaney takes in my appearance and smiles.
“Still have that extra ticket?”
She nods. “Just let me grab my purse.”
As she steps out and closes the door behind her, I realize I’ve never seen Delaney so dressed up before. Her light brown hair is kept out of her face with braids and diamond clips. The black dress she’s wearing sparkles as it reflects the light, low cut and revealing. Being as she’s the closest I’ve got to a little sister, let someone try hitting on her tonight. I’ve been needing an outlet for this pent-up frustration.
THE VENUE IS FILLED with supportive friends and family, but I’m sure we’re the only ones here for Savannah. Delaney and I sit several rows back from the stage. Personally, I don’t want Sav to see me here, and Delaney agreed—explaining that the sight of me may catch her off guard and cause her to mess up.
We watch dancers come and go from the stage for what feels like hours, but Savannah is yet to be seen. Even a routine I’ve watched her rehearse with Lennon is performed as a solo. I look over at Delaney, confused, but she only shakes her head and smiles. Finally, the director of the dance studio comes out onto the stage. She’s a middle-aged woman, and the female form of Brady.
“Thank you so much for coming tonight,” she says into the microphone. “The final performance is one that even I didn’t get to see until just last night. It was choreographed entirely by the dancer herself and perfected in only a matter of four days. So please, put your hands together for the immensely talented Savannah Montgomery, performing Broken Memories.”
Everyone applauds and Delaney straightens in her seat, but the stage remains empty—until the music starts to play. It’s a simple music box tune with a layover track of children laughing. Two small kids walk across the stage, holding hands and nudging each other playfully.
Suddenly, the tune becomes sinister, and two older dancers come out to rip the little boy away. The girl searches frantically, running back and forth with a fearful look on her face before walking backward off the stage, opposite the side the boy was taken.
Love Me or Leave Me by Little Mix starts playing, and for the first time all night, Savannah steps out. She looks flawlessly gorgeous in her white costume, with her hair down and curled. A white gold necklace, similar to the one I gave her, lies against her chest.
She moves her body across the stage with a delicate ease, leaping through the air like she has the ability to fly. Her spins are perfectly executed, and as she turns out of them, you can see the pain in her eyes.
Brady stands toward the back corner of the stage with his back to the crowd, unmoving and firm, even as Savannah pounds on his back and pulls at his jacket.
She returns to throwing her body into every move, following each one with another in a way no other dancer could. She’s not just putting on a performance, she’s spilling her soul.
As the second verse starts, Brady begins to move. It’s like they’re facing off, both angry and unwilling to cave. Then, the bridge hits, and he’s in her face. She swings at him with each hand, only for him to catch both her wrists—a reenactment of our first kiss. Her body falls limp as he holds her and spins them around.
Straightening, she turns to face the audience, and Brady lifts her by her waist. It’s a brilliant move that not only shows their strength but their trust in each other. The two of them move around the stage in synchrony until they’re face to face again. As the last notes play, she watches with pleading eyes as he grabs the small pendant and rips it from her neck, before turning and walking slowly off the stage.
Savannah collapses to the ground, reaching for him with one hand, and grabbing her chest with the other. The entire place is silent as tears flow from her eyes. With a painful finality, she lays her head on the stage, and the hand that was grasping for Brady relaxes.
It’s as heartbreaking as it is beautiful, and in an instant, the entire place is on their feet. The screams and cheers are deafening as she’s commended for such a jaw-dropping performance. There isn’t a single person in the audience unmoved—including me. Especially me. While they all saw a dance, I saw a story. The story of us.
24
Grayson
All night, I can’t get that dance out of my head. The way she moved. The pain etched into each of her perfect features. Even just watching her, my heart broke. She took our tragic story and managed to turn it into something beautiful. Turned it into art.
There are a million different reasons why we should or shouldn’t be together, and I can’t seem to make sense of any of them. The only thing I know is that this isn’t something I can figure out on my own. I need to talk to Savannah—lay everything out on the table, and see where we go from there.
It’s half past three when I decide I can’t wait any longer. Grabbing my keys, I get in my car and drive toward her house. The whole way there I can hardly sit still. We haven’t spoken to each other since the night of Jace’s party, when she confessed to being in love with me, and I responded by kicking her out of my house. The look on her face as I screamed at her to leave is still burned into my mind, tormenting me late at night when I can’t sleep.
When I pull up to her place, what can only be described as a ratty, beater car is sitting out front. It’s a slightly familiar one; I’m guessing her dad’s. Every time I’ve come to pick her up, if that car was parked outside, she’d be waiting on the porch by the time I got here. I have yet to come face to face with him again after all this time, but I’m not about to shy away. I need to talk to Savannah.
As I get out of the car and walk toward the door, I hear glass breaking, followed by shouting coming from inside.
“Don’t ever speak to me that way again, do you understand me? You live under my roof! You treat me with respect!” a man yells.
I’m just about to knock when the door swings open and Savannah’s father stumbles out of it. He looks like shit, not half the man I remember him being. His hairline is receding, he’s paunchy, and he smells like he bathed in a bottle of whiskey.
“Fucking ungrateful little bitch,” he mumbles.
As if he didn’t realize I was there at first, his eyes meet mine and widen drastically. The two of us stand there, staring at each other in a silent face-off, until he shakes his head and drunkenly staggers down the steps and to his car. It’s obvious he shouldn’t be driving in his condition, but I have more pressing matters to deal with. I just hope that if he kills himself, he doesn’t take anyone else with him.
The door is left halfway open, and I peek my head in before entering. Savannah is crouched down on the floor, sweeping up what looks like the broken pieces of a beer bottle. Her hair is a mess, as if someone had their hands in it, and her shirt is ripped.
“Sav?”
Her head whips toward me, and that’s when I see it—the fresh gash on her forehead and handprint on her cheek. In a split second, it all becomes crystal clear. All the bruises I noticed over the last few weeks…her comment about dealing with things much scarier than thunderstorms…how nothing I did seemed to have any effect on her.
Her father has been
beating her this whole time.
“What do you want, Grayson?” The cracking in her voice tells me just how defeated she is.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She laughs dryly as she stands and empties the dustpan into the garbage. “And when did you expect me to do that? When you were looking for anything you could use to ruin my life, or when you were screaming at me to get out of your house?”
I step closer and reach out to touch her, but she dodges it. “I can help you.”
“I don’t need any help.”
My brows furrow. “Savannah, he’s hurting you!”
“And you haven’t?” She snaps. “Don’t try playing the knight in shining armor now! You’ve been no better than he is!”
“Don’t be like that.”
She scoffs. “Be like what? Truthful? Honest? What you did to me hurt so much more than anything my father has ever done.” Turning around, she doesn’t even look at me as she says the next words. “Go. I don’t want you here.”
It’s like someone plunged an icepick straight into my chest. As everything tightens inside me, I feel like I can’t breathe. She’d rather get thrown around than let me help her, and why should she? I’ve done nothing but make things harder for her. School was the one place she could act like everything was okay. Like her life wasn’t a fucking train wreck. It was the only time she felt safe and hopeful, and I took that away from her.
I’ve always been meant to protect her, and instead, I caused her the most pain.
I PULL UP TO the studio, not even bothering to park in a space or turn off my car before I’m storming inside. It only takes a minute to find Brady, standing with the same guy I saw helping him after our little scuffle outside the bar. I grab him by the shoulder and spin him around. His demeanor changes when he sees me.
“What the hell do you want?!”
“Did you know?”
He looks at me as if I’ve gone crazy. “Know what? That you’re a bastard?”
“About Savannah’s dad!” I scream. “Did you know he’s been using her as his own personal fucking punching bag?”
“He’s been what?” His instant outrage is enough to tell me he’s been just as clueless as I have. “And how do you know this?”
I pace back and forth. “Because I just went over there to talk to her, and heard him screaming at her! There was broken glass everywhere, and she’s got a nasty cut on her forehead and his handprint on her face.”
“What are you doing here then? Why aren’t you helping her?”
“She doesn’t want me to! Not that I blame her. She has every right to hate me, but him…?” I shake my head as my fury builds. “No. He already ruined my life. He doesn’t get to ruin hers too.”
Heading toward the door, Brady calls after me. “Where are you going?”
“To find the piece of shit,” I answer. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
THREE HOURS OF SEARCHING for the son of a bitch, and I come up empty. Wherever he is, I hope he knows what a shitty fucking person he’s become. It’s one thing to stab his best friend in the back, but to beat on his own daughter? There’s a special place in hell for assholes like him, and if I’d found him tonight, I’d have been the one to put him there.
As I’m driving home, I come across the familiar plot where the playground used to be. It’s overgrown now, but my mind immediately goes to the waterfall. The time we spent there was everything to me, and while it might be freezing outside, it may just be the one place to help me clear my head.
The path is completely overgrown, telling me that no one else has been here in a while. It isn’t until I get deep into the woods that I can hear the flow of water. Clearing out spider webs and foliage, I finally reach the opening. I step through the bush and take in the sight in front of me.
It looks the same as it did eight years ago, only older. Moss covers the bottoms of the trees, and the waterline is higher than I remember. Sitting down on one of the rocks, it’s so cold I can see my breath, but the rage inside burns so hot that I can’t feel it.
Taking out my phone, I’ve got three missed calls and seven texts from Brady. They’re all different variations of telling me to calm down and to think rationally. It’s amusing, how he thinks he has any influence on me or my actions. The reality is simple: if her father hadn’t evaded me this afternoon, he’d be rotting at the bottom of a ditch somewhere.
I roll my eyes and go to put the device back in my pocket, when it slips from my hand and slides down the rock—clanking on something before hitting the ground. My brows furrow as I reach to grab it and spot a glass bottle. It’s old, and has obviously been here for a while, but the seal seems to have remained strong. When I pick it up, I realize it’s filled with rolled up pieces of paper.
The only two people I’ve ever known to be here are Savannah and myself, and judging by the looks of it, that still rings true. I hold the bottle over one of the rocks and slam it down. The glass breaks with ease, freeing the papers inside. As I unroll the first one, I find my suspicions were right. Handwriting I’d recognize anywhere is scribbled across it.
Gray,
Where did you go? I came home from Nana’s and you were gone! Daddy said you and your family moved away. I miss you. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say goodbye? Just come home. Come back for me.
Savi
I flip to the next one.
Gray,
Why haven’t you called me yet? I know you know my number. Does where you moved to not have phones? I wish someone would tell me what’s going on. I really miss you. I don’t know what to do without you. You’re my best friend, Gray. I just keep hoping one day you’ll come back.
Savi
And the next.
Gray,
Delaney told me today that your dad died. Are you okay? I wish I could be there for you. I’d hold you really close like you did for me the night of that bad storm. The new phonebook came the other day. I tried to look for your name, but it wasn’t there. If by some chance you come back here, I hope you find these and call me. I miss you.
Savi
Gray,
Things are getting scary. Daddy is acting weird, coming home all the time smelling gross and falling down all over the place. He’s started leaving me home alone a lot. He says I’m a big girl now and I can handle it, but I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on. Why haven’t you come back yet? Why haven’t you called? Do you have a new best friend? Is it because we kissed? Because we can pretend it never happened. Just come home.
Savi
The last one is short, only three lines, but enough to raise goosebumps across my skin.
Grayson,
I’m scared.
Things are getting worse.
If something happens to me, I love you.
Savannah
The overwhelming emotion threatens to choke me with the truth. She didn’t know. Whatever was done to record that video, she wasn’t the willing participant I thought she was. All this time, I thought she was playing the victim. She really didn’t know.
What have I done?
MY FIST POUNDS ON the door as I will for it to open. When it does, Delaney stands on the other side, her face full of concern. I try to keep my composure, but anyone with eyes can see that I’m breaking.
“Tell me what to do,” I plead. “She hates me, and she has every right to, but please. I need you to tell me what to do.”
She sighs. “All Savannah’s ever wanted was you. If you can’t give her that, you need to stay away. It’s all or nothing.”
“What if I can? What if I want to?”
Searching my face for any signs of ill intentions, she nods and opens the door further to let me in.
25
Savannah
I pull down the mirror in Brady’s car, adding more concealer in an attempt cover up the cut on my forehead. I tug a lock of hair down over it when I’m done. It’s not a perfect job, and if someone looks too closely, they’ll notice.
However, it’s enough to not bring attention to it. The last thing I want is for people to ask me what happened.
After Grayson so courteously told Brady about what my dad has been doing to me, Brady stormed over to my house and demanded I stay with him and Jacob for a while. At first I resisted, not wanting to impose. I take up enough of his time with dance and giving me rides to and from school. Taking up space in their house felt like encroaching on their relationship, and I would never forgive myself if they split up because of me.
Unfortunately, Brady wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Jacob joined him. They told me that the only alternative to not going with them was to call the police. Being as I’m already enough of the school’s charity case at the moment, I really didn’t want everyone to find this out, too. So, I packed a bag, and we left.
“You going to be all right today?” he asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. I mean, with Grayson being back from wherever he fucked off to, and now knowing about your shithead of a father.”
Putting away the makeup, I flip the visor closed. “It’s nothing new for me, Brady. Nothing I can’t handle.”
A proud smile stretches across his face. “That’s the Rocky I know and love.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too. I’ll see you after.” I hug him and open the door.
“Have a good day at school, sweetie!” he says in his best falsetto mom voice, making me laugh.
As I walk into the school, I realize a lot of the attention is no longer on me. People don’t smile at me the way they used to, but they also don’t shoot me dirty looks anymore either. I go down the hallway and toward my locker, waving at Carter and Jace. Unfortunately for me, Kinsley is standing there, too, with Becca and Paige.
The Sinner: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Grace Prep Book 1) Page 20