I blink. What?
Did he… did he just tell me that heletme get my implant? That hefollowedme to my doctor’s appointmentsix years agoand I had no idea?
And how does he know that? How does he know that my birth control was for help with my cycle, not because I wanted to be protected from an unwanted pregnancy?
I open my mouth, but as though Connor just can’t help but enjoy the sound of his own damn voice, he adds, “The receptionist was very helpful. I gave her ten G’s, she gave me everything on you that was in your file. So I know it was all about the pain. I won’t let you feel pain if I can help it, angel. Check the bathroom cabinet. I stocked it with everything you need. Midol. Advil. Pads. Tampons. A heating pad. I always meant to have that taken out as soon as I could call you mine, but with everything that happened… I completely forgot until I saw you on the camera just now?—”
My head whips toward him.
Cameras? Fucking hell. I knew there had to be cameras!
Connor is suddenly sheepish. “Whoops.” He lifts the hand with the knife, scratching the back of his neck. “You see what you do to me, mouse? You make me forget everything. Yeah. The basement has cameras, but that’s just because I need to make sure you don’t hurt yourself when I have to leave you alone down here.”
My gaze flicks to the bathroom.
“No,” he says, and there’s such weight to the word, I have to believe him as reluctant as I am. “Not in there. Just this main room. I swear it, Haven. When I see you naked, it’s going to be because my wife stripped for me. Not because I looked before she was ready.
“But that doesn’t change what happens now. Youwillbe my wife. There won’t be any Heller babies. There will be Heywards, and we won’t be able to start a family until I get that shit out of your arm.”
Start a family with Connor Heyward? Bring a child into this fucked-up world?
I’d rather he slit my throat with his knife first.
Stupidly, he takes me continued silence as acceptance. Bringing the knife in front of him again, he reaches for my arm.
I react first, shoving him in the chest with all the force I can muster. Since he wasn’t expecting it, he stumbles, lifting the knife high so he doesn’t accidentally get me with it. Meanwhile, I scurry from the couch, pausing only long enough to snatch a pen from the coffee table.
For a second there, I jab at him, prepared to stab him with the pen. He’s quick enough to jump out of my way. I hiss at him andmove.
Racing toward the kitchenette, putting some distance between us, I realize I don’t have paper. A napkin will have to do. Uncapping the pen, I begin to write furiously on the white square. When I’m done, I toss it at Connor who is now perched on the edge of the couch as though he didn’t just try to mutilate me—and I didn’t try to go for his jugular.
“‘If you ever try something like that again, I’ll never forgive you as long as I live’,” he reads out loud. He purses his lips, contemplating that. “So… if I leave the implant where it is, you’ll love me?”
Psycho. He’s a derangedpsycho.I have no idea how he got that from what I wrote, but maybe if I make it a little more clear…
Leaning over the couch, glaring at him as he takes a lock of my hair, breathing in deep, I snatch the napkin back. I lift my leg up, writing against my thigh so that the ink comes out legibly before showing it to Connor.
Love you? I hate you!
He thinks about it for a moment before shrugging. “I can live with that. Any emotion is better than you pretending not to see me when I follow you around town.”
He’s not getting it, is he?
Fine.
If you cut me, you’re no better than those monsters who took me
Connor recoils as if I physically slapped him. For the first time, I think he finally does get it. Finally understands.
He’s breathing heavily. The open knife twirls between his fingers, though he makes no move toward me with it again.
I press my lips together.
Connor tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”
What was that?
Shifting his position, he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. You heard me. I’m sorry. That was a stupid, fucked-up thing to do. I realize that now. I wish I can undo it, but I can’t. I can only promise it won’t happen again.”
