“She did everything right, yet they still did her wrong,” Regina says, throwing down the evidence I’ve amassed on Rylee’s father overnight onto Savannah’s dining table.

“How could they deny that?” she asks, pointing to Savannah’s bruised face on one of the many Polaroid photos nursing staff took when she sought medical attention after a brutal assault. “We know better than anyone there is only one way you get a mark like that, and it sure as hell ain’t from falling down the stairs.”

Her anger is as palpable as mine was when Savannah handed me these photos. Although grateful she kept evidence of her ex’s abuse, seeing the damage firsthand fucking killed me. The face I admired for years is barely recognizable in the faded Polaroid pictures. If it weren’t for Savannah’s dimples, I would have never believed it was her.

Savannah wasn’t just abused. She was tortured.

My eyes drift from Savannah sleeping on her couch to Regina. “That’s the night she found out she was expecting Rylee. The nursing staff said it was a miracle Rylee survived the assault. In some ways it was: when Kiefer discovered Savannah was pregnant, he kept his hands to himself.”

“What about the other Marshalls? What do they have to say for themselves?” Regina asks as she digs through the handwritten notes Savannah kept hidden from Rylee’s dad. “Tobias’s crew would have never let this slide. There should have been more than one Marshall assigned to her protection. Who was Keifer’s superior? Who did he report to?”

I shrug my shoulders, my mind as jumbled as Regina’s. “Savannah said after Tobias died, she didn’t see anyone but Keifer. She assumed he was keeping their location on the down low as a security measure. He told her the fewer people aware of her location, the better. This wasn't a properly run operation, Regina. He had Savannah at his advantage, and he exploited it.”

I scrub my hand over my eyes before scooting to the edge of my chair to continue rummaging through the evidence. I’m tired as fuck, but there is no chance of me sleeping. Not only is my heart in a mess, so is Savannah’s case. Rylee’s father is a US Marshall. Although no official evidence has been amassed, he appears to have been assigned to Savannah’s protective detail in the weeks leading to Tobias’s death.

Although Keifer continued to check in for duty every day for the past nearly four years Savannah has been running, he has not lodged a single document that includes Savannah’s name or one of the many aliases she has had over the years.

He wasn’t just hiding her from Col’s crew after Tobias died. He was hiding her from the world.

I stop staring at the long list of names Savannah has been called the past ten years when Regina asks, “How did she get out alive, Ryan?”

Regina knows the statistics as well as me. Over half of the women killed in America each year are related to intimate partner violence. That means they were killed by either a current or former romantic partner. The odds of Savannah getting out were low, yet here she lies, sleeping peacefully years later with the strength of a tigress. I always knew Savannah was a strong, determined woman, but I admire her even more now.

She didn’t just accept her fate, she fought it. Could you imagine the courage it takes to sneak out of a hospital room with a one day old baby hidden under your sweater? Savannah knew the odds on households affected by domestic violence; she read every article I gave my mom when we were kids. She knew Rylee’s birth would coincide with the return of Keifer’s violence. That is why she ran when she did.

By manually adjusting her obstetrician receipts and buying items at the store before immediately refunding them, she amassed over a thousand dollars the last few months of her pregnancy. She didn’t want a glamorous life; she just wanted a non-violent one.

For the first few months, she lived on the money she had stolen, but as Rylee grew, so did Savannah’s desperation. She knew Keifer was looking for them, so she had to change her location a minimum of once every two months. That made it hard to secure employment. Not only did she have to trust the care of her baby to strangers, she had to plead with business owners to keep their payments under the table.

It is lucky Savannah can read people.

She and Rylee lived well below the poverty line the past three years, but they were living, and that was all that mattered. . . until Savannah’s heart had her issuing a plea she never thought she’d give.

There is only one alias Keifer is unaware of: Abby Rowe.

That is how Regina discovered Savannah’s return to Ravenshoe two weeks before me. After scouring Tobias’s records, she discovered a protocol he had failed to advise his superiors about. He had hidden aliases for every woman he placed into witness protection. It was a safeguard, their last resort. If their cover was blown, or they were in immediate danger, they only had to use the name Tobias had given them, and he’d find them.

Savannah no longer has Tobias in her life, but she has the next best thing. She has Regina.

Savannah is too proud to admit she needs help, but the fact she used the alias Tobias advised was only for an emergency situation in the town she was raised in reveals the plea she’s too independent to make: I need help.

Like she can sense my intrusive stare, Savannah’s eyes slowly flutter open. Although she’s only been sleeping for a few hours, she looks well-rested. I doubt she had a solid night’s sleep in ages.

“Everything okay?” she mouths, ensuring she doesn’t wake up Rylee, who is sleeping on her chest.

I nod, preferring to lie without words. It’s not okay. Not yet. But it will be. Soon. I’ll make sure of it.

The lamp hanging over the sofa Savannah is resting on twinkles in her eyes when I push off my feet and pad to her side. My god, she is a beautiful woman. Brave. Gorgeous. And mine. That’s not subjective. It is straight up honest.

Rylee nuzzles into her mother’s chest when I adjust the knitted blanket draped over them. “Go back to sleep. We’ve got everything handled here.”

I can see the controversy in Savannah’s eyes, but she still nods her head, awarding me a trust I’ve yet to fully gain back. It’s not that she believes I will deceive her; she’s just wary of everyone.

When Keifer first struck Savannah, she sought assistance at the local sheriff’s office, unaware Keifer’s brother was the head of their region. When he hit her for the second time, she tried to run as she did four years ago. She didn’t even make it a mile before Keifer arrived at her side. For every corner Savannah walked, a member of Keifer’s family or friends stood on it. No matter whom she sought assistance from, word of her inquiries always got back to Keifer.

That didn’t just make matters worse for Savannah, it nearly got her killed.

The horrifying images spread across Savannah’s table are the result of her seeking help. As Regina said, she did everything right, yet she was still abused. If it wasn’t for the young midwife who stayed by her side when she delivered Rylee, I doubt she’d be free now. She didn’t just get out of the hospital unseen; she saved her life.

Once this all settles down, I’m going to shower that midwife with my praise. What she did makes her just as brave as Savannah in my eyes.

After pressing a kiss to Savannah’s temple, I run my finger down Rylee’s rosy cheek. The heaviness on my chest eases when the little dimple indents further from my touch.

“She couldn’t be more like her mother if she tried.”

I realize I said my statement out loud when Savannah replies, “You have no idea, Ryan. You haven’t seen her awake yet.”

It’s the fight of my life not to kiss the cheeky grin off her face, but I hold back the desire—barely. I don’t want Rylee’s first impression of me to be a lip-sucking-leech, no matter how delectable Savannah’s mouth looks.

“Go to sleep,” I request again before raking my fingers through her hair in a comforting manner.

Savannah always loved having her hair played with when she was younger. I don’t know how many times I woke up with strands of her hair wrapped tightly around my fingers, cutting off my circulation. It used to bother me—now I’d give anything to have it again.

I wait for Savannah’s chest to rise and fall in a steady rhythm before returning to my watch station in her kitchen. From where I am sitting, I can see the living room, main hall, and the front door. That’s why Savannah is sleeping on the sofa instead of her bed. It is the prime spot for me to keep an eye on her.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Ryan. Direct me. Guide me. Take everything I’ve taught you and flip it on its head, “ Regina asks when I enter the kitchen. “Give me something. Because if you don’t, I’m going to drive to Wyoming and pop a bullet between this guy’s eyes before the sun sets tomorrow afternoon.”

I smirk. I shouldn’t be smiling, but considering her thoughts match the ones I’ve had numerous times the past three hours, I can’t help but smile. If I had my gun, Keifer’s breaths would be limited.

“Weren’t you the one who told me violence never ends violence?”

Regina glares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Yeah, but that was before any of this. He is a US Marshall, Ryan. He should have been protecting her, not beating her to within an inch of her life.” She licks her parched lips before saying, “We need to report this. You know what these men are like. When they lose one target, sometimes they put two in its place. Not only do we need to seek justice for Savannah, but we also need to make sure this isn’t happening to anyone else.”

I nod, agreeing with her. “But we need to be smart. If he is hiding them like he hid Savannah, and we go in strong, we may never find them.”

“We can do this in a way he’ll never see coming.”

Regina’s words aren’t as confident as she is hoping, but they don’t stop me from asking, “How?”

Her chest rises and falls numerous times before she breathes out, “We use Savannah as bait.”