Chapter 5: Savannah Run

I grabbed the earliest flight to Savannah, spent half a month on edge, and finally started to relax. With the system working to fix the plot, I hit the bars at night.

The city was muggy, the air salty off the river. I wandered the cobblestone streets, blending in with the spring breakers and bachelorette parties. One night, I found myself in a neon-lit bar on River Street—the kind with sticky wood floors, Bud Light sliding down the counter, country music twanging on the jukebox, and a bachelorette party shrieking in the corner, tiaras sparkling under neon lights.

"Bring me your best-looking male models."

The bartender—a woman in a trucker hat—arched an eyebrow but waved over a crowd of guys who looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine. I propped my chin on my hand and ordered a round.

They came and went, all charm and Southern twang. I laughed more than I had in months, flirting shamelessly, like only someone running from their own life could.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a flood of group chat messages:

[Girl, RUN, he’s in Savannah!]

[He’s gone full ghost mode. Total stalker vibes.]

[He’s been wandering Savannah for days, not stopping until he finds you.]

It was like someone had dumped ice water down my back. My heart skipped a beat.

The male model next to me, oblivious, grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Babe, why the rush? Want to feel my abs?"

He was cocky, all cologne and confidence. I turned—and there was Caleb, face dark as a thundercloud. His bangs had grown out, messy and shadowing his eyes. He met my gaze, and I shrank back in shock, right into the model’s arms.

My stomach flipped. Caleb strode over, voice low and dangerous.

His gaze swept over me like a snake’s tongue.

"Babe, you don’t want me anymore?"

He sounded wounded, but there was a warning underneath. My mouth went dry.

"I..."

The words stuck in my throat.

"Who are you? She’s mine. Don’t even try."

The model tried to pull me closer, but seeing the devastation in Caleb’s eyes, I hurriedly waved him away.

He shrugged and left, confused. Caleb squatted in front of me, head tilted up, looking oddly submissive. No one would guess he was a future antihero. He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his pale neck. Shy, lashes lowered, hands trembling, he crawled forward on his knees, pressing against my legs.

In that rowdy, sticky-floored bar, with ESPN flickering on the TVs and the smell of cheap whiskey in the air, Caleb’s submission looked out of place—raw, desperate.

"B-babe, I won’t say no anymore. My clothes, only for you. I can... talk dirty, do you want sweet talk or dirty talk?"

I was floored—this was the most Caleb had ever said to me. My phone buzzed with a flood of group chat notifications:

[Is this real? MC turned our antihero into this?]

[Forced him so hard, the shy guy actually talks dirty now. Legendary.]

[Come on, let’s see the bad boy take charge!]

[His first solo shopping trip was to buy condoms, blushing like a pure maiden.]

[I recorded it—video.mp4]

[Antihero after turning dark: Bring your damn video to court.]

I ignored my phone. The system’s fix hadn’t arrived yet—how was I supposed to move?

Caleb saw my silence, hurt flashing in his eyes. He pulled a box from his pocket.

"I, I bought it for you. Now... I can."

The box was bright red with tacky gold lettering. He held it out, hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped it, knuckles white. He looked like a concubine waiting for favor. My hand tingled, but I held back.

"I don’t like this brand. Be good, let’s go home first."

I tried to sound gentle, but he looked even more wounded, stubbornly insisting:

"It has a bump—the kind you like."

His cheeks went bright red. My ears burned. I—

The group chat notifications went wild. I quickly covered Caleb’s mouth, afraid he’d say something even spicier.

His lips were warm under my palm, his breath shaky. Caleb fell silent, tears brimming as he looked up at me, obedient. Suddenly, my palm felt wet.

I jerked my hand back, startled.

He looked up, eyes shining, a little wicked. "Babe likes puppy licks too, right?"

For a second, I couldn’t believe this was happening. Despite my shock, a secret thrill welled up inside me.

In that noisy, neon bar, with all eyes on us, I felt the world tilt—just for a second. I wondered if I’d ever feel safe, or sane, again.