When I was twenty-one, I got a birth control implant. I did it behind my parents’ back because they would’ve lost their everloving shit if they knew I went to a gyno outside of Harmony Heights. I had to, though. I was an early bloomer. I got my first period at eleven. Had tits way before most of the other girls in my class. And while my mother preened at the attention her future Offering daughter got from the men of the Owed—and I meanmen—I began suffering from severe menstrual cramps almost from the start.
She told me that was to be expected. That all women experience pain during their cycle. For a decade, I believed her, until I finally decided that I couldn’t deal with it any longer.
On the plus side, they don’t think I have endometriosis. True, they didn’t really listen to my complaints or do many tests, but the doctor I saw told me that I was a candidate for a birth control implant that should help my cramps.
It did. I tried it out for three years, loved the results, and had it replaced with a five year model when I was twenty-five.
The small rod beneath my skin is barely noticeable. I poke it because I know it’s there, and it’s such a weird sensation, feeling the rod when I remember that I have it. It’s an unconscious gesture. I don’t even know I’m doing it, but I get sudden proof that Connor is watching mesomehowwhen, minutes later, the basement door opens and he comes jogging down the stairs.
He’s holding his pocketknife. It’s open, the blade out, and there’s a strange look on his face, almost feverish.
The paperback falls from my hands, landing on the couch.
Connor, I mouth.
What the hell is wrong with him?
“Thank you for the reminder, dewdrop.”
Reminder? What reminder?
He strolls toward me. I’m not buying the sudden nonchalance. I see the knife. I saw the look on his face as he stepped onto the basement floor. Something’s up, and I have no idea what it is.
And that’s when he moves until he’s standing right next to me. “Give me your arm, Haven.”
What?
I clutch my arm to my side. I’m predisposed to refuse him anything he asks me, but the way he’s handling his knife…
It’s not like I think he’s going to stab me. I don’t. Weirdly enough, I believe Connor when he tells me that he won’t hurt me. But why is he clutching his knife like that?
I’ve gotten to knowthisConnor Heyward enough to be prepared. With this man, I never know what kind of crazy thing he’s going to do, and I’d prefer it not have anything to do with my skin and his knife.
“I’ll be quick,” he swears. “And, okay, it might hurt a little, but I’ll make it up to you, Haven. I have to get this out.”
Getwhatout?
His free hand closes on my wrist. He squeezes with just enough pressure to pull my arm away from my side. I’m so confused. I don’t know what he’s doing—and then he puts the tip of his knife to the underside of my arm.
Connor prods around, a triumphant look flashing across his face when he makes contact with the birth control implant.
What?
This crazy fucker wants to cut it out!
No! If ever there was a time for me to use my voice, it was then. Too bad. It fails me, but while I can’t shout at him to stop, I risk getting cut as I jerk my arm away from his knife.
Terrified tears spring to my eyes; terrified andfurious. How dare he!
Connor is oblivious. “You know what? Maybe it’s better if I give you another sedative. I’ll have that sucker out and bandaged before you wake up. You’ll never even know I removed the implant.”
He’s serious.
He’s fuckingserious.
My mouth falls open. My head bobbles, and all I can do is stare at him in horror.
“How did I know about it?” he wonders, guessing right. “Easy. I followed you out of town the first time you went toyour gynecologist. I thought… I thought, if you were looking for birth control outside of Harmony Heights, you were planning on fucking someone who wasn’t me. I couldn’t have that. Even if you didn’t know I was there, I refused to let that happen. But then I found out that you were just getting that implant installed to help with your cramps, and I decided to let you do it. We could always remove it when we started trying for kids.”
