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He wanted to take her to his house. Wanted Havana in his lair, where he could keep a close watch over her, where she could have peace and quiet to relax. But he didn’t bother to say as much, because he knew she wouldn’t agree to it. She didn’t yet know that things had changed for him. Plus, Aspen and Bailey would want her close for a short while—there was no way they wouldn’t follow her if she went elsewhere.
His cat bared a fang at Tate, in a funk because the man wouldn’t take her to their domain. The animal was an elemental creature; he had no interest in the delicacies of the situation. He wanted Havana safe, and he believed the safest place she could be was his territory. He hadn’t yet shaken off the panic he’d felt on hearing she’d been hurt.
Now that Tate had faced the truth of who Havana was to him, he knew he didn’t have to worry that his feline would ever withdraw from her. His cat would never give her up. Not for anything. He’d kill for her, lay down his life for her, strive to make her happy, but never let her go.
Tate realized something else, too. His cat hadn’t pulled away from other females because he had commitment issues, he’d done it because he wanted only one woman—his true mate; the only female he’d ever trust to never betray him.
Tate wondered how she would react to his upcoming declaration that they were mates. She clearly hadn’t sensed it, or she’d have stated it at some point. Something was blocking the frequency of the bond on her end. It might not be easy to convince her that they were true mates, but he wouldn’t stop stating his case until she at least admitted he could possibly be right.
Again, he glanced at both his passengers via the rearview mirror. You would think that, given what had just happened, they’d be a wreck. Havana had almost died, and Aspen had been forced to have a front seat to the drive-by. But neither were curled up in protective postures or staring into space, lost in their thoughts. Both were sitting upright, as alert and sober as marines.
He’d expected Havana to have had at least a small freak out on hearing she’d almost died. But when she’d woken at the shelter earlier and he’d told her what happened, she hadn’t paled or panicked or gone into shock. She’d taken his news with a little too much composure. He couldn’t help but get the feeling that it wasn’t the first time she’d taken a bullet.
There were many things he didn’t know about Havana … because he’d never asked. It wasn’t that he’d been disinterested. She’d intrigued him from day one, and he’d had hundreds of questions on the tip of his tongue. He’d wanted to know her better. He’d wanted to know what made her tick, how she became a loner, and where she came from. Each time she’d volunteered a hint of information, it had taken everything he’d had not to ask her to elaborate. He’d held back for good reason, but it hadn’t been easy.
He wouldn’t have to hold back from now on. He could ask whatever he wanted to ask. He could share with her whatever she wanted to know. He’d know her better than anyone else ever would, and vice versa—that was how it was with mates.
Finally nearing his destination, Tate again looked at the females via the rearview mirror. “I’m going to pull up outside the entrance of the complex so you can both head straight inside. I don’t want you standing out in the open for longer than necessary. Gideon probably won’t strike again today, but it pays to be cautious. Once you’re both safely inside, I’ll park the car and follow you in. Got it?”
Havana locked eyes with Aspen, who briefly frowned at her. He’d swear those girls could have entire conversations with eye-contact alone.
Both females met his gaze via the mirror and nodded.
Minutes later, he waited at the curb while they exited the vehicle and disappeared into the building. Tate then whipped the car into Havana’s usual parking space. Slipping out of the vehicle, he scanned his surroundings—including every rooftop—but saw nothing untoward.
He quickly spoke with Deke and Isaiah, making it clear that Havana needed to be escorted to and from her vehicle until all the bullshit had blown over. He also then dismissed them, Luke, and Farrell, since he’d be staying with Havana tonight. She might fight Tate on it, but he’d make sure he got his way in that. He didn’t add that she was his true mate, since it wouldn’t be fair to do so until he’d first had the much-needed conversation with her.
After giving Vinnie a quick call to relay what had happened, Tate headed to Havana’s apartment. She opened the front door, looking … harried. He heard the raised voices of Camden and Aspen, so he could hazard a guess as to what had put that look on Havana’s face.
