It better not.
“When you’re ready to have it removed, I won’t take it out with my knife. I’ll call Dr. Lucas and see if she can perform a simple surgery for us.”
Nope. He’s still certifiably insane. However, he folded the pocketknife closed, tucking it into his pants pocket, so maybe I’ve gotten through to him a little.
Maybe, but that doesn’t stop me from crossing my arms protectively over my chest before I give him my middle finger.
Connor grins. “Why do you think I want that fucker out? Because I’mtryingsweetheart.”
He can try all he wants. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting out of here, and when I do? I’m going to make sure this crazy bastard gets exactly what’s coming to him.
FOURTEEN
SWEETHEART
CONNOR
Ithought I fucked up.
Wait. No. I did fuck up. I’m man enough to admit that. Like always, my instinctive reaction is to go right for my knife, and that’s exactly what I did. In retrospect, that was a bad idea when Haven’s only been in my care for little over a week. I’m still trying my best to show her that she has nothing to fear from me, and what do I do? I grab her arm with the intent to start slicing away. No alcohol pad to sterilize the knife first, no pain meds, no knowledge on how to perform surgery other than the fact I’m pretty fucking handy with a blade.
To think I was surprised she reacted like I was some psycho… shit. Iama psycho. I just never wanted Haven to realize that until I had her locked-down so tight, there is no escaping me.
And I don’t just mean in my basement where I can watch her constantly, knowing where she is at any given moment.
I got a little too excited—okay. Alotexcited. I was doing my best to give Haven time, to give her space, but something about the way she was absently stroking the back of her arm as though assuring herself she still had the implant…
I like to think I have control. Over the years, I’ve learned that, when it comes to Haven, I havenone.
Maybe it’s because I had to wait so long before I could let her know that I’ve always considered her mine. Haven seems to be convinced this is all so sudden.
Sudden? Fuck that. The only thing sudden is how I’ve gone from zero to one hundred when it comes to how intense I want to Claim her before someone else uses the worthless Order charter to try and stop me.
I don’t care what happens to me. I only care about Haven, and we—Dallas, Adrian, and me—decided that keeping the truth that I have her on the down low is the best for all involved. Before long, she’ll understand that we’ve always been meant to be, and we can finally have the happily-ever-after the Order’s been denying us for so fucking long.
It’s been nine years since I wanted to stand up and call her mine in front of the Order. But that’s not when I first realized there was something about her that I just had to have.
Shit. I was… ten? Yeah. Ten. I was ten the first time I got a little woody and figured out it happened because Haven Smith had sat down next to me during lunch. I was used to my prick getting hard, then soft, playing with it because it felt good, but when she tapped my arm and asked if she could have a slice of my apple, I was fuckingsprung.
She smelled so pretty. Always like flowers. Her hair was soft, and her eyes were kind unless she was looking at Adrian. Her and Loni were tight then. Adrian was already bullying Loni—mainly because, unlike me, he picked his girl back in kindergarten instead of fifth grade—and Haven was strong enough to stand up against the King’s spoiled nephew while Loni hid behind her.
Haven hated Adrian when we were in grade school. By the time we reached middle school, her antipathy extended to me byassociation, and I let her hate me… even went out of my way to annoy her so that I could encourage it… all because I would take anything Haven Smith would give me so long as she was paying attention to me rather than ignoring my existence.
I knew I would be an Owed back then. Had no idea really what the concept of an Offering was. Oh, no. That came later, when I was twelve and Jack had already announced that Adrian was going to be the boy who got to call Haven his when we were all grown up.
I punched Adrian in the nose when I understood what that meant. I remember how he licked the blood dripping from it with a tiny smirk before grabbing me by the shoulders. I thought he was going to pin my arms so that Dallas could whoop my ass while Adrian told him where to hit.
Nope. He turned me around until I was looking at Loni and Haven. We were in gym class, and the two were sitting on the bleachers ‘resting’ while the boys and I were supposed to running around the track. Our gym teacher had disappeared before I swung my fist, pointedly ignoring the blood trickling past Adrian’s lip when he finally returned. It was Order biz, even for twelve-year-old boys, and he refused to interfere.
He didn’t need to. Not when Adrian told me to look at the girl with strawberry blonde hair.
“That’s the Offering who will be mine, Con,” he told me. “Haven’s yours. Don’t listen to Jack. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. When we’re grown, I’m going to have Loni all to myself.”
And that was that. Adrian and I came to an agreement that day, and fifteen years later, the only thing that’s changed is that Loni is living two states away, completely unaware that Adrian still has every intention of one day making her his wife.
Just like there’s no stopping me when it comes to seeing Haven Smith become Haven Heyward.
And yet…
