Page 33 of Covert Operation
ZEKE
SAVANNAH MENTIONED SHE’D had the movers put her things in the garage, but she didn’t mention the thing was now packed full. I can’t believe those assholes couldn’t be bothered to convince her to put enough inside so she would have space to fucking move.
I hold one hand out, helping her out of the car, continuing to hold on as I lead her across the driveway. It’s shoveled, but shoveling only does so much when the wind blows everything around all day, so it’s still slippery. It’s one of the many reasons we’re going to get this car in her garage before I leave. She doesn’t need to be crossing this driveway every time she wants to go somewhere, and she sure as hell doesn’t need to scrape ice and snow off the windows and windshield.
Even after she’s safely inside the garage, Savannah’s hand stays in mine as we continue across the cement surface. Her boots are now wet, making this area almost as hazardous as it is outside.
I tip my head toward the open bay as I scan the space, taking in the situation. “Close the door, so it can warm up in here.” Nowthat I’m inside, I have a better idea of what I’m working with. Of what she’s been attempting to handle on her own.
And I don’t fucking like it.
“You should have told me you needed help with this.” I feel like I’ve let her down. Left her on her own to face yet another curveball life’s thrown at her.
“You were out of town following Vincent and getting shot.” Her lips press into a frown. “What were you going to do?” Savannah pulls the garage remote from her purse and clicks the button, closing us in. “And I needed something to do anyway. I’ve been sitting on my ass for way too long. It was good for me.”
“Taking on projects you can handleisgood for you, but this is more than a one-person job.” I open the door leading inside, using my hold on Savannah’s hand to urge her in first. The garage door wasn’t open for more than a minute, but it doesn’t take long for the frigid outside air to lower the temperature, and she’s not as used to the cold as I am.
“There wasn’t any point in asking for help until I knew what I wanted to do.” Savannah blows out a long sigh. “And I still haven’t figured that out.”
“Because you’re overwhelmed.” I release her hand and help her out of her coat, swinging it over my arm as she toes off her boots. I do the same then follow her up the stairs leading to the main level. “Remember what I said earlier about one step at a time?” I reach the top of the steps and look around to find even more boxes stacked up. “You’ve got a whole fucking marathon packed in this place. It’s no wonder you can’t find your way.”
Savannah purses her lips, her green eyes lifting to the ceiling as her shoulders slump. “I didn’t really have another option. It’snot like I could have them deliver half of my stuff. I can’t put things away if I don’t have the things to put them in.” She goes to the single piece of furniture in the living room and flops down on the sofa, catching her head in her hands. “I’ve started unpacking, but it just makes everything worse, because crap takes up even more space unboxed and all over the place than it does neatly stowed away and out of sight.”
I carry Savannah’s coat to the closet by the front door, making an educated guess and finding it correct when I open it up and find her coats lined inside. After hanging hers and mine, I turn, hands on my hips as I work through a strategy. I’m not a decorator, but I do know a thing or two about planning an attack. And that’s all this really is. “Do you think you can narrow down which rooms everything belongs in?”
Savannah lifts her head, lips flattening as she ponders my question. “For the most part, probably.”
“For the most part is good enough.” I scan the items she’s unpacked so far. They’re everywhere. Covering her kitchen counters. Stacked on the dining room table. Lined against the walls. “Let’s start by putting everything in the room you think it’s going to end up in.”
She slumps back in her seat. “That’s kind of what I was starting to do, but I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere.”
“Sometimes it seems like you’re not going anywhere when you actually are. It just takes a while to notice the change.” I lift a glass lamp shaped like flowers from where it sits on the table. “What about this? Where does it go?”
Savannah slowly stands, taking a deep breath. “It used to be in my front hallway, but now I don’t really have a front hallway, so maybe I’ll put it in one of the spare bedrooms?”
She’s trying, and that’s all I’ll ever ask for. “Perfect. Show me where.”
Savannah moves toward the stairs but pauses to collect a few items stacked on the counter. She shifts them in her arms and then continues on her path. “I might as well take these since that’s probably where they’ll end up too.”
“Smart.” I follow her up the stairs, a smile working its way onto my face. I love her determination. Even when she’s unsure. Savannah might be afraid, but she still plows forward, doing everything possible to get where she wants to go.
Does she need an occasional nudge? Yeah, but that’s only because she starts to doubt herself. And I’m happy to reassure her. Happy to be the one to remind her how fucking amazing she is. How capable.
How brave.
Savannah flips on the light in one of the bedrooms and we both deposit our items in the corner. Then she shows me around the upper floor. I’ve been in the townhomes before, but never this particular unit. They all have a similar floor plan though, so I’m not surprised to find another bedroom and a bath, along with a small office on the top floor. The main floor has an open kitchen, dining area, half-bath and living room, along with an en suite bath. The bottom floor has the two-car garage, as well as a bonus room and another bathroom. The units were designed to offer plenty of space for a growing family.
Which says a lot about how much stuff Savannah has.
“How big was your last house?” I try to imagine us finding places for everything, but it just doesn’t seem possible.
“About the same size as this place.” Savannah gets another armful of items from the table. “It wasn’t as open of a floor plan though.” She waits while I collect more stuff and then we go back upstairs. “I don’t mind this new place, it’s just not something I would have picked on my own.” She sets everything down in the same room as before. “Maybe that’s another reason I’ve put off moving all my stuff in.”
“Because you thought maybe you’d move somewhere else?” I ask. The possibility that Savannah might choose to move away from Fairbanks doesn’t sit right. I don’t like the thought of her being alone in a strange place. I don’t like imagining her without someone close to help her when she needs it. Someone to listen when she needs to talk.
To show her how far she’s come when she doesn’t see it.
“I wouldn’t hate moving somewhere else, I guess.” She turns to me. “Alaska is beautiful, but I don’t know that it will ever be my idea of the perfect place to live.”