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Kyle Grace Jameson.
Dare blinked. Kyle? She’d named herself Kyle?
He squinted and realized he’d read it wrong. Kylie, not Kyle.
Except having seen his brother’s name in her newly chosen name, he couldn’t unsee it. What were the chances the similarity in those names was a coincidence? His gut told him it was very little. His heart told him it was none at fucking all.
Haven had been planning to name herself after his brother? He squeezed the card in his hand. “Kylie,” he whispered, emotion clogging his throat again.
“Yeah,” Maverick said, placing the envelope on the tray. “Kylie.”
The significance of that gesture sank into every fiber of Dare’s being. On a cellular level, he felt the generosity, the sweetness, the incredible beauty of what she planned to do and who she planned to be.
Which was when he knew there was absolutely no way on God’s green earth he was letting her become Kylie. Not when she was already his Haven.
Unless, of course, she wanted to go. Because after the horror show of Friday night and being forced to kill her own father, he wouldn’t blame her one bit if she was chomping at the bit to leave, to finally find a place where she might be safe.
Dare wouldn’t make her stay, even though she’d be taking his heart with her if she went.
HAVEN CAME AWAKE on a gasp, her gaze cutting immediately to Dare’s face. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his eyes and lines cut deep into his skin, but his eyes were open and looking at her, and it made him the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
“You’re awake,” she said, sitting up. “Oh, God, you’re really awake.” She cupped his jaw in her hand, relief coursing through her.
“And you’re still here,” he said, voice scratchy. He’d been intubated during his surgery, and one of the nurses had mentioned he’d probably have a sore throat.
The words made Haven’s belly sink, and she drew her hand away. “Uh, yeah. Well, they wanted to wait for you to decide what to do.” From the moment Caine had returned with their paperwork and logistics, Haven had been nearly sick with dismay at the prospect of leaving.
Dare frowned. “I’m sorry, Haven.” He pressed his lips into a grim line, and his eyes looked so bleak.
“For what?”
“For so much. For not protecting you. For not keeping my word. For putting you in the position of having to take a life.” He shook his head, and the grimace proved that it was more movement than he was up for.
“In case you didn’t notice,” she said, fight stirring up in her belly, “I’m completely unharmed. You kept your promise. And killing my father was one of the most justified things I’ve ever done in my life. He killed people we cared about. He hurt Bunny. He was going to kill you and kidnap me. He was evil, pure and simple. So I’m not sorry. Not at all. And you shouldn’t be either.”
Dare studied her like he was searching for the truth in her words. “You’re not upset?”
Taking his hand in hers, she shook her head. “Not about any of that.”
“About something else?” he asked.
She dropped her gaze to the envelope on the tray next to him. “Caine got the paperwork.”
“I know,” he said, holding up her driver’s license in his other hand. She hadn’t noticed he had it. “You named yourself after my brother.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.
Heat filled her cheeks. “I wanted the name to mean something.”
“My brother means something to you?” he asked, a strange expression she couldn’t read playing over his face.
Discomfort rolled through her stomach. Did he disapprove? She dropped her chin and her gaze. “Yeah, because he means so much to you.”
He squeezed her hand weakly. “Look at me.” She forced her eyes to meet his, and he stared at her a long, long moment. “What do you want?”
Feeling like she was standing on the edge of the tallest cliff, Haven knew she had to jump. Her life depended on it. “I want to live. To really live—”
Pain flickered over his face, making her swallow her words. “Then we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can. Because you deserve that, Haven.”
Wait. What? “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to live, Dare. And you’re the one who showed me that I could. Who showed me how beautiful it could be—”
“Killing your father was beautiful?” he bit out.
“I’m free now. For real. And someone who made a life out of hurting others is gone. Maybe that’s not beautiful, but it’s good. And if that makes me a horrible person, then I’m okay with it.”
“Should’ve been me,” he said, grit in his voice.
“I don’t need you to protect me, Dare. I appreciate it, but I can survive on my own. I’ve done it all my life. But I don’t want to just survive. Not anymore. I want to live and experience all the beauty and power and chaos of life. And I want that . . . I want that with you.”
