A single shake of my head. No.
He nods. “You will be. When you are, I’ll feed you. You let me know, no matter the hour, and I’ll cook for you. Deal?” He doesn’t even wait for a response from me before he says, “Deal. Good. I’m glad we have that settled.”
Settled? We don’t have anything settled?—
Connor rises from his seat. Stalking back into the kitchen, he returns with a napkin in his hand. Then, to my absolute shame, he drops to a knee at my side. One hand goes to my shoulder. The other? He lifts the napkin up, dabbing at my eyes.
I jerk my head out of his reach, not sure if it’s the sudden touch that has me eager to bolt or how unexpectedly gentle Connor Heyward is being with me. Doesn’t matter. I can’t bolt—as though part of me realizes that, if I do, he’ll just chase after me again—so I do the only thing I can: I shut down completely.
“Cry if you need to, Haven. There’s no one here but you and me. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to have you in my home…ourhome. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel safe. Do you hear me? Nod if you can, grey eyes.”
Grey eyes? Not the most imaginative nickname, I think, but the fact that he gave me one… even if I’m not the Haven I used to be, it’s nice to see some sign of the Connor I know.
I nod. I don’t know why I did, or what he thinks I’m agreeing to, but there’s a hint of satisfaction as he pushes himself back to his feet. Connor crumples the napkin, shoving it into the front pocket of his jeans. That done, his hand shifts to his back pocket. When he pulls out a familiar folded-up pocketknife, my heart feels like it’s being squeezed.
Not out of fright. I… I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of Connor Heyward. The other Heirs, definitely. But Connor? Despite that wicked edge he used to hide behind a joking smile and an unserious outlook on life, I always sensed that I was… protected when Connor was near. Maybe that’s insane—and God knows I might be after my ordeal—but watching him unfold the knife as easily as though it’s an extension of his hand? It’s something I’ve watched him do so many times, I could almost pretend we’re kids again and he’s getting scolded for carrying it around school.
He always thought he was so cool, flipping the knife around his fingers, tossing it up in the air. I never saw him actuallyuseit until that night at Sebastien Reynolds’s house, when, I swear, Connor cut into his skin after I bit him.
For a split second, I peek at the scar on his arm. No. It can’t be an ‘H’. It’s a weird mark with three distinct lines, and I’m sure there’s a good reason why he has it—and I’m distracted by wondering what it could be when Connor grabs the brown box on the table, cutting into the tape securing it with his knife.
He pulls out a wrapped hypodermic needle and, in one practiced motion, releases the syringe. Dipping his hand into the box, he returns with a glass vial filled with a clear solution. I don’t know what exactly he does next, but once he’s done, the vial is part of the syringe, like it’s some kind of injection.
Some kind ofshot.
Is it drugs? In Harmony Heights, the Owed are big on alcohol, cigars and cigarettes, and recreational drugs likecocaine. I’ve never seen anyone whip out a needle like that, especially not Connor, and I’m both mesmerized and terrified at the same time.
He taps the glass vial with his fingernail before turning his attention my way. “Do you know what this is?”
I shake my head.
“Didn’t think so. That’s okay. I’m going to do my best to make this transition as easy as possible for you.”
Transition? What the hell does he mean,transition?
“Adrian would say I’m being too impulsive. Maybe I am. He has all these plans… but, let me tell you, Haven, plans mean shit when some asshole decides to disrupt them.” He pauses, jaw going tight as he adds, “I’m talking about Winter.”
Winter.
I’m not surprised he knows the name of the bogeyman who took me. Iamsurprised that Connor seems to have taken it as a personal insult that Winter targeted me. Because I’m an Offering? Or because?—
“He’s a dead man,” and there’s such a conversational note to his voice, I’m almost sure I heard him wrong. “Once I feel confident that I can leave you here alone and you’ll still be here when I return, I’m going after him next. For now, my focus is on you. Whatever you want… whatever you need… it’s yours. And if you can’t tell me… if youwon’t… that’s okay, too, my darling Haven. I spent six weeks in hell, wondering where you were, if you were even fuckingalive. What happened to you… I willneverlet that happen again. It’s very important to me that you understand that.”
Connor looks at me, waiting for me to give some sign that I do. Since I have no idea what he’s talking about, I just peer at him from beneath the curtain of hair that fell in front of my face.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. Trust me, baby, I know that. Baby… is it okay if I call you ‘baby’?” He shakes his head. “No. Itfits, but it’s not reallyyou. Don’t worry. I’ll find the perfect pet name for you eventually. After all, we have all the time in the world now.”
What?
Connor chuckles. “Whoops. I’m getting ahead of myself. Sorry. Bas told me once to go for what I want, and I tried, but the Order got in my way. Fuck the Order. I came way too close to losing you, and I’m not going to let anything like that happen again.”
I’m so confused. This… this can’t be happening. Who is this Connor? He’s not the one who teasingly told me he would Claim me at the August ceremony when I was newly eighteen, only to say ‘nah’ that year and every year after. The man who would bump into my shopping cart at the grocery store, poking fun at my snacks because I didn’t have a full cart like Mr. Chef over here. The one who seemed to be everywhere all at once over the years no matter how hard I tried to avoid him… and now he’s trying to tell me that he thought helostme?
Lost me? He never had me!
I open my mouth, but, like before, nothing happens. I’m not crying, though I do start to tremble a little.
Shit. Is this shock?
