by Wendi Wilson
“Yes.”
He nodded and refocused his attention on the bumpy road. A couple of minutes later, the truck busted free of the dark forest and the cab filled with orange sunshine. I gasped as Wyatt pulled to a stop and shifted the truck into park.
A large pond stretched in front of us, sparkling brightly as the wind rippled across its surface. Long, green grass surrounded the shoreline, stretching from the water to the woods. A few ducks skimmed the surface of the pond, ducking under the water and popping back up a few seconds later.
I opened my door and hopped to the ground. Swinging it closed behind me, I walked to the front of the truck and leaned back against the bumper. Wyatt joined me there a few moments later, a large, thick blanket tucked under his arm.
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
“A good boy scout is always prepared,” he said, his signature grin firmly in place.
“Were you really a boy scout?” I asked, trying to picture him as a child, wearing the khaki green uniform while tying knots and starting fires.
He threw back his head, laughing. “No,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, “I wasn’t.”
I gently elbowed him in the ribcage with a smile. “Jerk.”
He straightened and pulled me up with him, leading me closer to the water. Releasing me, he unfolded the blanket and snapped it open, letting it drift down onto the soft grass. Taking my hand, he led me onto the faded fabric and sat, pulling me down with him. I folded my long legs to the side and leaned into his chest as he looped an arm around my neck.
We sat in silence for a while, watching the ducks search for food and quack incessantly. Soon the light became dappled as the sun dipped behind the tops of the pines. The breeze picked up and I shivered, despite the thick sweater I wore. Wyatt tightened his grip on me, pulling me even closer until I was pressed up against him, his body heat warming me.
“How do you think this is going to end?” My voice cracked with the question.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“This whole situation with your uncle. Do you think we’ll be able to somehow…beat him?”
“Yes,” he said, simply.
“He has a lot of resources. A lot of people behind him, backing him up.”
Wyatt gently pushed me upright so he could look into my eyes. Placing his palms on my cheeks, he said, “Yeah, but we have each other. You, me, Jett and Beckett. As long as we’re together, we can’t lose.”
He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips to mine. He kissed me gently, almost reverently, making me feel like I was the center of his universe. My body warmed despite the chill in the air, Wyatt’s lips sending currents of heat shooting through my veins. I opened my mouth and his tongue brushed against mine, ratcheting the heat up several more notches.
I jerked away from him, panting and flushed, and whipped the sweater over my head. The cool air raised goosebumps along my arms beneath the short sleeves of my t-shirt. I lunged back into Wyatt’s arms, climbing into his lap and straddling his hips. His hands pushed into my shoulder blades, pressing me into him, before drifting down to my hips.
I kissed him, pouring all my emotions into the act. Affection. Love. Desire. I was sure he could taste it all as I squirmed against him, yet he remained controlled, calmly slowing the tempo and gentling our kiss. I pulled back a few inches, staring into his eyes with question in my own.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, half-afraid he’d say he didn’t want me.
“Nothing. Everything is absolutely perfect,” he said.
“But—”
I didn’t finish. I couldn’t find the words to ask him why he stopped without sounding like an insecure ninny or a wanton hussy. I didn’t want him to see me as either.
“Why did I stop?” he asked. “Trust me, Savanna, I didn’t want to.”
“Then why did you?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me something.”
My eyebrows dropped low in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Because of what happened with Jett,” he said.
I still didn’t get it. “What does Jett have to do with this?” I asked motioning between us.
He sighed. “You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a response, he went on, enunciating each word carefully. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. Like you have to do things with me just because you did them with Jett.”
I leaned further back, but didn’t move from his lap. “Wyatt.”
My sharp tone made him flinch. “I was jealous,” he said, “and you’re a sweet, loving girlfriend. It’s not that much of a stretch that you’d throw me a bone.”
“Throw you a bone?” I said, indignation filling me. “Throw you a bone!” I repeated, my loud voice, startling the nearby ducks who quacked loudly.
I stood up, towering over him. “Of all the stupid things you could have said, that one takes the cake,” I yelled pointing down at him. “Throw you a bone.” I shook my head.
Wyatt stood, a blush staining his cheeks. “Savanna…”
“Do you think I’m the kind of person who would give myself to someone out of guilt? Out of some misplaced sense of obligation?”
He lowered his head. “No,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Meeting my eyes once more, he said, “I’m sorry, Savanna. I’m an idiot.”
“A stupid idiot,” I said, my anger draining from me.
He must have felt it, because the corners of his lips turned up. “Your stupid idiot,” he said.
“Mine,” I said, and heat flared in his eyes at the word.
He grabbed my arms and pulled, crushing me against his chest. Whispering words of love and devotion against my hair, his palms pressed into my back as my arms circled his waist. I turned my face up and his lips crushed down on mine. All coherent thoughts fled as his hands moved to my butt and squeezed.
I pressed against him, bending my knees as he curved me backward, lowering me to the blanket with gentle precision. His body covered mine as his lips left mine and travelled down my neck. I tilted my head back to give him better access. A shiver ran down my spine as his tongue brushed along the sensitive skin over where my pulse beat erratically.
“I love you, Savanna,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear.
I groaned, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. He pushed himself up, giving me room to work the fabric up and over his head. I tossed it away as he lowered back down, his lips claiming mine once more. I ran my hands all over his back, letting my fingers trail under the waistband of his jeans.
A growl vibrated in his chest as he deepened our kiss and ran a hand up under my shirt. He rolled to the side, pulling me over to face him. His hand skimmed my side on its way to my back, caressing up and down before stopping at the clasp to my bra.
“Do it,” I whispered against his lips and, with a flick of his fingers, the pressure of the restricting garment released.
His hand massaged the skin there, rubbing away the indentations the stiff material had left in my skin. Once more, his kisses slowed. He pulled back, just far enough so he could look into my eyes.
“I want you,” he said.
“I want you back,” I whispered.
His lips pressed against mine once more, his hands doing things that brought me to one new height after another. He moved slow, worshipping my body with his like I was a goddess and he a devoted disciple.
As the sun fell behind the trees, surrounding us in darkness, Wyatt Patton showed me what it meant to be wanted by him. What it meant to be cherished. What it meant to be loved, in every way.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The next ten days passed in relative normalcy. We went to school, we came home. We tried to stay out of the house as much as possible, opting to hang out elsewhere, free of the ever-piercing gaze of Dr. Patton.
My regular Thursday appointment at his office was cancelled aft
er my discussion with him. Since I knew he wasn’t actually running any tests on my blood, just stockpiling it, he informed me the donation could take place at home. So, we did it right there in his home office. As much as I wanted to resist, the subtle threats that passed his lips, reminding me of what I had at stake, made me sit quietly and submit.
I was seething on the inside.
Our Saturday practice session was cancelled. Dr. Patton said he had pressing matters to attend to, whatever that meant. The boys and I spent the whole day vegging out, watching corny movies-comedy, romance, horror-and taking full advantage of their uncle’s absence. It was a nice day.
The following Friday afternoon, Dr. Patton called the four of us into the living room. He commanded us to take a seat, so we squeezed in close together on the sofa. Neither I nor the boys said a word, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say so we could get the hell out of there.
“So, tomorrow is your birthday,” he said, looking from one brother to the next with an arched brow.
A shiver ran down my spine. Something told me I wasn’t going to like what he was going to say next.
“You’ll be eighteen. Adults, in the eyes of the law,” he continued, before pausing, letting the pregnant silence put us all on edge.
The guy had a flair for the dramatic. I had to give him that.
“As my gift to you, I’m setting you free.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Jett spoke up. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Dr. Patton said, his voice deepening and his brows dropping low, “tomorrow morning, I want you out of this house. I no longer have a need for you and my legal responsibility is over. You are hereby evicted.”
Wyatt stood. “Great,” he said, “we’ll pack tonight. Come on, Savanna.”
“Oh, she’s not going anywhere.”
The doctor’s words had the rest of us jumping to our feet. Exclamations of outrage spewed from the boys’ mouths, but I just stared at him as he smiled, eyes locked on me. He was enjoying it way too much.
“You can’t make me stay here,” I growled.
“Oh, but I can,” he said, his voice light despite the tension filling the room. “You, my dear, are still a minor. As of tomorrow, these boys are adults. One word from me, and they could be arrested for any number of offenses. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor.” He had a gleam in his eye as he gazed at me and said, “Statutory rape.”
The boys stepped forward, their chests puffed up with outrage. They were ready to tear him apart. I held up a hand and hissed at them to stop, never taking my eyes off Dr. Patton.
“Oh, I figured you’d try to use that one,” I said, “so I looked it up. The age of consent in Georgia is sixteen. And I don’t drink, use drugs or do anything outside the law, so contributing to the delinquency is off the table, too. Try again.”
My voice was firm, my tone smug. I could feel the stares of my boys, their sense of pride warming me, but my eyes remained firmly glued to those of their uncle. It was a showdown, and I was determined to win.
“Smart girl,” he said. The pride in his voice had the opposite effect on me than that of the boys. It made me feel dirty. “I’m sure my friends in the district attorney’s office could come up with some charges that would stick. It wouldn’t even be hard. They are, after all, Alts. The good people of our community would certainly do their due diligence and convict.”
I deflated. The threats were the same as before, but his tone told me they were more than idle. He was prepared to act if I defied him and left. He must have sensed his victory, because his smile grew.
“Smart decision, Savanna.” He looked past me to the boys, who were crowded behind me. “I expect you to be gone before I return home from work tomorrow evening.”
With that, he walked from the room. I watched him go, a feeling of despair growing in my gut. I moved to the couch and sat back down.
“You can’t stay here with him, Savanna,” Jett said. “We won’t leave you here alone.”
I looked up at him. “What other choice do we have?”
“We run. Get away from here. Away from him.”
“You heard what he said, Jett,” I said, attempting to roll some of the tension out of my shoulders. Beckett sat down beside me, motioning for me to give him my back before massaging the tight muscles there.
“I don’t care what he said,” Jett argued. “If we leave now, we’ll get so far away he’ll never find us.”
“He’ll have the police track the truck,” Wyatt said, his voice quiet. “We don’t have time to find a car we can afford.”
“How much money do we have saved?” Jett asked, looking at Beckett.
“About fifteen hundred bucks,” Beckett answered, his fingers still working out the knots in my neck and shoulders.
“You know he probably has cameras or listening devices in here,” I said, my voice flat.
“I don’t care,” Jett said. With every argument I made, his voice got more desperate. “We’re out of time. We can’t afford to be overly cautious right now.”
Beckett’s hands dropped from my shoulders and I turned to look at him. “I might have an idea,” he said.
The rest of us watched him, waiting for him to get his thoughts in order before he spoke. After a few silent moments, he nodded. Wyatt and Jett sat on the coffee table in front of us, leaning in so we could speak quietly. Just in case Beckett was right about us being overheard.
“We could go to Savanna’s parents,” Beckett said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to argue. “Not to stay there, but to get a little help. Insurance.”
“What do you mean, insurance?” I asked, a furrow forming in my brow.
“You could persuade them to give us their blessing to leave. To let us borrow their car. We could even get it in writing, that you have their permission to go away with us.”
“I don’t know, Beck,” I said. I already felt horrible for persuading them before.
“It could work, Savanna,” Wyatt said, his knee bouncing with excitement. “If we have their permission, no one can report the car stolen and they would have no reason to search for us. Not a legitimate one, anyway.”
“They won’t be able to charge us with any crimes,” Jett said, his voice thoughtful, “but that wouldn’t stop our uncle.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Beckett said. “He’ll have his people looking for us, but at least we wouldn’t have to worry about the police, too.”
“We could outrun him,” Wyatt said. “At least long enough to come up with a plan.”
“Savanna?” Beckett asked. “What do you think?”
“What about your blood supply? He threatened to cut you off.”
“We’ve got enough for a few days’ worth. It’ll get us out of Georgia, at least,” Beckett responded.
“Out of Georgia? Where do you want to go?”
The three of them exchanged glances, nodding before looking back at me.
“Connecticut,” Jett said. “Our friends there will help us. We know they will.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The final rays of the setting sun warmed our faces as we left my parents’ house. It felt weird, thinking of it as their house and not mine, but nothing in my world was the same anymore. Everything was weird.
When they’d let us in, they had seemed pleased to see us, but that was the extent of their emotion. It was like having a pleasant visit with distant relatives. They seemed fond of me, but not overly concerned with my well-being. But that was all my own fault. I had persuaded away their parental concern.
And then I did it again. I told my mom to write a letter, giving me express consent to go on vacation with the boys. Then I had dad call a couple of his friends to chat and casually mention that the boys and I were headed up north to visit their extended family.
It seemed excessive to me, those phone calls, but Jett insisted. He wanted to be sure a few people knew we had my parents’ blessing to go away together…just in case. I d
idn’t even want to think about what the just in case situation could possibly be, so I just did as he asked and got Dad to make the calls.
Then I asked them for their keys, telling them that we needed to borrow Mom’s car. Under my influence, she didn’t even ask why we weren’t driving the truck. She just handed over the keys and asked me to be careful before kissing my cheek and walking me to the door. Dad pressed two hundred dollars in my hand and told me to have fun. It was all very casual.
And very depressing.
Beckett climbed in the backseat with me, holding me while I cried over the loss of my parents, however temporary, my home, and even my desire to walk with my graduating class. My sobs were the only sound in the car as we drove to the highway and headed north.
At some point, I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, we were on the interstate, the headlights barely illuminating the trees as they flashed by. I sat up and rubbed my burning eyes, cringing at the puffiness I felt there.
“What time is it?” I asked, biting back a yawn.
“Just after midnight,” Jett said, turning the radio down. He must’ve turned it on after I passed out.
“Where are we?”
“We’re about a half hour out of Richmond,” Wyatt answered.
“Virginia?” I asked, dumbfounded. We’d travelled through two states, almost three, while I was sleeping.
“Yeah,” Beckett said, rubbing small circles on my back.
“There’s a motel up ahead,” Jett said. “I saw a sign for it a couple of miles back. I think we should stop for the night. Get some sleep.”
Wyatt nodded in agreement and Beckett said, “Good idea.”
It looked like I was the only one who’d gotten any sleep. I still felt exhausted, despite the six hours I’d slept, so I didn’t argue. If we were already half way through Virginia, the likelihood of Dr. Patton’s people finding us was slim. Even if they assumed we were going to Connecticut, they’d have to stop and check out every motel between Savannah and Richmond to find us.
Jett parked the car out front and ran inside to check in. He jogged out a few minutes later with two keycards. He passed one back to Beckett before cranking the engine. He guided the car to the rear of the T-shaped building.