Page 109 of Lucky Haven

Holding my breath, I climb in and do a quick search through the vehicle. There’s a folded piece of paper that looks familiar on the floor, shoved under the seat. I nudge it enough to confirm it’s Kaitlyn’s handwriting. A list of something.

Haven leaving a clue here, connecting her to this van.

Brave girl.

A cut zip tie is on the floor by the side door. I think about that pressing into Haven’s soft skin and I see red.

I search quickly to see if the cruel fucker left any more of those in here, and strike gold in the footwell of the passenger seat. I shove a handful in my pocket and let myself out the way I came in.

Carefully, I work my way around the vehicle, to the back bumper, and then I go flat and wait, watching the windows.

I need to get up against the building so I can do a perimeter search under the window line to find a way in, and fast, before the cavalry shows up and things get messy.

This close, I can make out Haven sitting on a couch, and Jeb pacing in the kitchen behind her.

I watch his pattern. He’s search through the cupboards, left and right, left and⁠—

As soon as he turns right, his back to the window, I sprint across the open ground, ten feet of danger, and drop down below the window.

They can’t see me now, but I’ve also lost sight of my girl.

Fuck.

All the things I want to say to her. All the ways I need to tell her that I’m sorry for not being enough.

Later.

Soon.

Crouching, I circle the house again.

The front door is too risky, although God damn it, I want to play the hero and just kick it in. Save the girl, get the kiss.

But that’s not real life.

There’s a padlocked storm cellar door at the back. A side window that looks breachable. Maybe that’s the bathroom.

There’s a good woodpile at the back. That would get me up to the second level.

I consider the roof, but there isn’t any easy access to the attic, and I think the second floor is enough of a surprise.

I go up the wood pile, praying to God it holds. Haven must have a stronger connection to the big guy than that asshole holding her hostage, because it’s a rock-solid ladder to the second level balcony.

Skills I learned in the army got me this far.

Jail, though, gets full credit for my endless pull-up strength. I swing myself up and over the creaking railing and land silently, crouching like a cat.

Every second ticks the odds less and less in my favour. I need to be smart, but I do need to move quickly.

Get inside, then use the advantage of surprise by attacking from above.

The nearest window looks as good a port of entry as any. Old wood, dusty, but used to being opened—and not locked. I work it up in increments.

It’s halfway open when I catch the first ragged edge of Haven’s voice, shaking as she tries to engage Jeb in conversation.

“You…turn yourself in…”

His reply is loud, full of fury. “Why would I do that? Everyone will understand that I had to defend myself from your advances.”