Page 10

Haven

In the evening, I pull Athelia down the dark streets of Birchwood. We’re already late to the party, and I don’t want to miss it.

We’re barely two months into senior year, and it’s already turned into a nightmare. We need this break, especially Athelia. I should be able to avoid Colton, Lucas, and Xander pretty easily at the party, and their presence practically guarantees Wes and his friends won’t show up.

I never did find out the reason behind Colton and Wes’s rivalry. If you ask me, it’s because their egos are too big, and there’s not enough room in this town for both of them. Normally, I couldn’t care less about their stupid rivalry, but I’m using it to our advantage today.

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” I tell Athelia, hoping to ease her remaining worry about me. “And then we can sleep in until noon tomorrow if we want to.”

With a grimace, Athelia shakes her head. “I can’t. I have an advisory meeting with Professor Kammes tomorrow morning.”

I do my best to hide my frown. “Seriously? On a Sunday morning? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Pretty early into our freshman year, Athelia started meeting with her advisor at an oddly high frequency compared to how often I met with mine. That continued into sophomore and junior year, and then into this year, as well.

I’ve asked her countless times if something is going on between the two of them, but she always denies it. I’d pry more, but it only ever results in Athelia clamming up.

“He’s just a little busy. I’m trying not to be a bother, and tomorrow morning is when he had the time.” She shivers.

“Cold?”

“Not cold,” she says quietly. “Just thinking.”

Dammit. She’s probably worried about Wes.

I click my tongue. “Stop that. Tonight is for fun, not worrying.”

“I’m trying,” she mumbles.

Athelia is staring at the sidewalk, so when we turn the corner, I’m the first one to see the dark, Gothic-style house that looks like it’s straight off a Pinterest board.

“It looks… wow,” I breathe out. “Holy fuck.”

We’re both frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the dark house. Halloween decorations are scattered across the front lawn, and the candles in the window add a soft, welcoming touch.

I’ve walked past it a few times before, but it looked nothing like this. It was falling apart. Completely abandoned. Whoever bought it poured a lot of money into renovating it.

In a way, it reminds me of home. Beckham pushed aesthetics hard, and he was obsessed with this particular style. My mom said a lot of Christians think focusing on aesthetics is sinful and a distraction from God, but Beckham thought the opposite. He saw it as a form of worship.

God created beauty, he used to say. So we’ll build beautiful things for him.

“Whoever is hosting this put a lot of effort in,” Athelia mutters.

A chill runs through me as her voice brings me back to the present. Fuck Beckham, and fuck Cornerstone. They don’t deserve my attention tonight.

“You ready?” I ask.

With a smile, Athelia takes my hand. “Yeah.”

We cross the street together and step through the wrought iron gate in front of the house. Music pours from inside the house, and I immediately spot our friend Angie on the front porch. When she sees us, she hops down from the railing she was sitting on, her bright pink hair blowing in the wind. As we make our way up the path that’s lined with jack-o-lanterns, she sprints toward us, an empty Solo cup in her hand.

“Hey!” She throws her arms around me.

“Hey, Ange.”

“I didn’t think you guys were coming,” Angie says, “but I’m so pumped you made it. Wanna get some drinks? They’ve got everything inside.”

Athelia shoots me a wary look, but then she gives Angie a once-over. She’s obviously multiple drinks in, and she looks fine.

“Let’s go,” Athelia says.

It’s warm inside the house, and we have to squeeze past people to get to the kitchen. As we make our way through a tight hallway, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to give it a quick glance.

Colton: I’d be more careful if I were you. Wouldn’t want to lose your precious scholarship.

My confusion is quickly replaced with dread as a photo appears on my screen. It’s a still from one of the security cameras in the library, and it shows me sneaking out of the maintenance room. If Colton has this, then he has the rest of the footage. There aren’t any cameras inside the maintenance room—that’s why it’s one of my go-to spots—but being alone in there with that guard is suspicious enough to get me into some serious trouble.

That motherfucker. Colton has done a lot to hurt me over the past couple years—so have Lucas and Xander. But this? Potentially ruining my chance at finishing out my degree? That’s far more extreme than anything they’ve done so far. I’d lose the job I have lined up for after graduation.

I’d lose everything.

I swallow hard. He can’t mean it. He can’t. But…

What if he does?

With shaking hands, I text back a reply.

Haven: What do you want?

He doesn’t respond immediately, so I shove my phone back into my skirt’s pocket. Pemberton University is the only reason I’ve been able to keep myself afloat after leaving Cornerstone. Getting kicked out would mean having no place to live, no access to the food at the cafeteria…

I clench my fists. No. I won’t let him take this from me. If he actually means what he’s implying, I’ll kill him before he lets my secret out.

“Oh, this one is cool,” Angie says, pointing to a framed print on the hallway’s wall. It’s of ravens perched on a barren tree branch. “Love the details.”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

I realize Athelia has fallen behind—no surprise, considering everything littering the walls is exactly her vibe. It’s mine, too, but I’m too shaken to enjoy it right now. Still, I don’t want to lose her, so I slow down so she can catch up.

Right next to the entrance to the kitchen, a large painting hangs at eye-level, and my feet freeze at the sight of it. It’s of a small, white church on a sunny day. The sky is a bright blue, marred by the thick, dark smoke billowing from the church. Flames consume the building, licking up the sides. Through one of the windows, a burning cross on the wall is just visible.

It looks nothing like the church at Cornerstone, but it still sends me back in time. Just like that, I’m a little girl again, kneeling in the empty sanctuary and begging God to forgive me for my sins. I was so convinced he wouldn’t—that my sins were somehow worse than everyone else’s. That I was destined to fall from his grace.

Some would say that, in a way, that fear came true. It didn’t, though.

I didn’t fall from God’s grace.

He fell from mine.

Absentmindedly, I run my hands over my outfit—a tight, black crop top, a black skirt that stops mid-thigh, fishnets, and black boots. My mother would cry if she saw me like this, and the white, upside-down crosses on my skirt only make it worse. Throw in the fact that my shirt is low enough to show off my tattoo and some boob? God, she’d die of a heart attack.

Athelia accidentally bumps into me, and when she sees the look on my face, she frowns. “You good?”

“Yeah. I was just… thinking.” My gaze falls to the title in the bottom corner of the painting, and I trace over it. “Retribution. How fitting.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Athelia and Angie exchange a concerned glance. Angie doesn’t know much about my past, but Athelia does—although there’s still so much I’ve kept to myself. I’ve told her about Beckham’s teachings, about the role I was supposed to fill as a wife and a mother. During a weak moment early on, I even confessed to her what Isaiah did to me.

Gently, Athelia nudges me. “Hey. Don’t let your mind go there. Tonight is about having fun, remember?”

With a hard swallow, I turn away from the painting and force myself to focus on Athelia’s face. “Right. Yeah, let’s just… forget, okay?”

Angie grins, taking both our hands and pulling us into the kitchen. “Sounds good to me.”

Halfway to the drinks, we pass by three guys in hoodies and glowing, neon masks. Athelia seems disturbed by them, so I push her in front of me to get her away from them.

The counter is filled with booze and mixers, and I make myself a drink much stronger than I normally go for. Before Athelia and Angie have finished making theirs, I’ve already gulped half of mine down.

I just want to forget.

“Has anyone figured out who put this on?” Athelia yells over the music.

Shaking her head, Angie says, “I’m just rolling with it. This is a blast. I hope they do it again next year. Ohhhh! Riley! Bailey! Hiiii!”

Raising my cup to my lips for another sip, I watch Angie run off. But I freeze at the sight of what’s behind her friends. Or, more so, who.

Lucas and Xander are talking and laughing, but Colton is watching me. He’s not glaring, but when I meet his eyes, that changes. My heart stops at the fire in his gaze.

So much for avoiding them.

Athelia touches my arm. “Are you—” She stops when she notices Colton stalking toward us. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”

Before I can protest, Athelia is dragging me through the house and toward the front door. I’m worried Colton will catch up to us, but when I look back, one of those guys with the neon masks stops him.

Athelia charges through the crowd and doesn’t stop until we’re outside. Only then does she let me pull my arm from her grasp.

“I don’t want to leave,” I protest, and I mean it. Fuck those boys—those bullies —for trying to ruin my night.

Maybe I should ruin theirs for a change.

“You’re not going to be able to enjoy yourself,” Athelia says flatly, and I can hear what she’s not saying:

This was a mistake.

“I can,” I say, even though I’m not sure that’s true. But I have to try. “He’s not ruining this for me. I’m so tired of men controlling my life, Thelia.”

That makes her pause. Ever since we met, we’ve always looked out for each other. The two of us have been through so much, so I understand her hesitation. They’ll hurt me, not her, though, which makes this my decision.

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” I say before downing the rest of my drink and then doing the same to hers.

“Hey—that’s mine! Jesus Christ, Haven, slow down.”

“I need the courage,” I insist, standing tall. “Okay, let’s go. I have a plan.”

Athelia looks like she’s about to drag me away, so I turn and sprint up the walkway before she can. She calls after me, but I don’t slow down. I have to do this before I chicken out.

Colton is still in the kitchen, and Lucas and Xander flank him, their arms crossed. All three of them are glaring at the masked guys we avoided earlier in what, according to my already-half-drunk-self, looks like a comically dramatic standoff.

It dawns on me that my alcohol-induced plan might not be horribly well thought out, but I’m already marching up to Colton. He’s so fixated on the masked guys that he doesn’t even notice me until I’ve already slapped him in the face— hard.

I whip around to dash away, but I’m yanked back by my hair. Pain sears my scalp as I fall into Colton’s body, and for a second, all I can do is stare up at him in shock. But when that smug look takes over his features, my hands automatically go for his face.

Before I can claw at his skin, Xander grabs my wrists and forces my hands behind my back. “Nice try, little traitor.” His grip tightens until I whimper. “Better luck next time.”

Pinned between them, my brain goes into full panic mode. I try to break free, but Xander is too strong.

“Stupid, stupid girl,” Colton taunts softly. He leans in close, and his breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “I’d be careful if I were you. Piss me off too much, and I’ll get you thrown off campus before the weekend is over.”

Xander jolts, and I realize Athelia is behind me, kicking at his legs. It distracts him enough that I can break free from Xander’s grasp, so I slap Colton again, harder this time. But his hand is still in my hair, so he only pulls me closer. His lips just barely brush against mine, and it sends a shiver of revulsion through me.

“Fuck you,” I grit out. “You vile, disgusting, worthless piece of shit. Let go of me.”

His eyes flash, and that smug smile only grows. “That’s the best you got?”

Athelia is hitting him before I can respond. “Let go, Colton.” She goes harder when he ignores her. “Let. Her. Go.”

“Deal with her,” Colton tells Lucas.

Lucas disappears from my line of sight, and I pound my fists into Colton’s chest. I’m too close to get enough leverage, but I know it’s got to hurt him at least a little.

“Don’t you dare hurt her. Don’t you dare. I’ll—”

Colton’s laugh is sharp. “You’ll what? Look at yourself, angel.” He spits the nickname out with disgust. “You can’t do anything. You’re helpless. Nothing more than a stupid girl who bit off more than she can chew.”

His insult stabs deep, the pain in my chest so potent that I can’t even come up with a retort. Once upon a time, if I’d taken on more than I could’ve handled, he would’ve helped me.

But he’s right. I’m the one who squandered that connection.

“Enough.”

Colton’s eyes flick past me, and I turn enough to see those three masked men standing threateningly close. I gulp. Now that I’m in the middle of their standoff, it doesn’t feel so funny.

“Oh, fuck off,” Colton snaps.

I try to push away from him, but he grips my hair tighter and forces me to look back at him. Tears spring to my eyes. From the sharp burn in my scalp? From how badly his words sting? I don’t know, and I probably never will.

“There are those tears I love,” he murmurs, and a sadistic smile takes over his face.

I hate it. Hate myself for what I did. If I could take it back, I would, although I don’t know if it would make a difference. I’ve tried apologizing countless times, and Colton has rejected me every time. His hatred for me is undying.

“I just want…” My voice falters. “I just want to forget.”

“You’ll never forget me. That’s a promise.”

“Enough.” It’s the same masked man this time. His voice sounds strange, like it’s digitalized or something. “Let her go.”

Normally, Colton doesn’t take shit from anyone. With the power his father wields, he can do whatever he wants. But the underlying threat in the masked man’s tone must affect Colton more than I predicted because he lets me go. I’m gone in an instant, darting between the masked men and crashing into Athelia.

“Can you make them leave?” she asks as she locks her arms around me. When one of the men—the one with the pink mask—stares at us but doesn’t respond, she rolls her eyes. “This is stupid. We’re leaving.”

That gets the men to spring into action. The one with the red mask whips around to face us. “Clear the hallway.”

Athelia jumps, but then we both do as he asked and get everyone out of the hallway. Once it’s clear, Athelia pulls me into the living room. Seconds later, they’re forcing Colton, Lucas, and Xander out the front door and off the property.

The tightness in my chest that’s been following me around all evening unravels, and I lean into Athelia, relieved. Now, we can actually have a good night.

“More drinks?” I ask, already pulling Athelia toward the kitchen.

“Haven, are you sure you should—”

“I can handle myself.”

At that, Athelia presses her lips together. I pour us both drinks, and she takes hers but doesn’t sip it. I, on the other hand, chug half of mine down immediately. My hands are still shaking, and my ears are still ringing with Colton’s insult.

You’re helpless.

Nothing more than a stupid girl who bit off more than she can chew.

Back in the living room, I try to get Athelia to dance, but neither of us are really feeling it. The boys ruined the vibe for us, and I’m not sure either of us are really in the mood to party anymore.

All I want is a second shot. For what, I’m not really sure. Revenge? To hurt Colton more? To feel something other than misery and worry?

The man with the blue mask comes up to us and puts his hand on Athelia’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m not the one who got hurt,” Athelia snaps.

He peers at me. “Are you okay?”

Looking away, I nod. Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll leave us alone. I’m grateful they got rid of those stupid assholes, but Athelia seems scared of these masked guys.

“They won’t be coming back,” he says. “And if they do, they’ll regret it.”

“Thank you.” Tilting her head, Athelia squints up at him, like she’s trying to look through the mask. “Do I know you?”

“Don’t think so.”

Athelia frowns and turns back to me. “What do you want to do? Dance?”

I should say yes. I should do what I came here to do—try to forget. But the fury from Colton pinning me to him and reminding me that I really, truly am helpless against him is still raging inside me.

“I want to find someone hotter than Colton and fuck him all night. And I want to take pictures or record it or some shit, and then I’m going to send it to him.”

Athelia’s jaw drops. “That’s gonna piss him off.”

The masked guy chuckles, and it sounds all distorted and warbled from the voice changer. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she wants, ma belle.”

What did he just call her?

Oh god. Oh my god.

He’s flirting with her?!

“I think he just called you pretty,” I whisper to her.

“I did,” he says, and I can’t see his face, but I can practically hear his smirk.

Athelia’s eyes widen, and I’m just able to catch her cheeks turning beet red before she drops her head. Her dark brown hair falls in a curtain, shielding her face from everyone.

Distraction. Gotta distract this guy.

Other than her fling with Wes, Cal, and Kellan, Athelia hasn’t dated anyone on campus. From what she’s told me, she doesn’t want to, although I’ve never quite believed her. She’s not the most convincing liar.

Scanning the room, I find a tall guy with glasses and nod to him. “What about that guy?”

“Nah,” the masked guy says. “I think I know someone who’s just the type of man you’re looking for.”

“Who? Tell me.”

“His name is Aaron. He’ll be totally down with you filming it, and you’re just his type.”

Perfect.

“Let’s go find him.”

We find Aaron outside, and when the masked guy waves him over, his eyes immediately lock onto me. I know I look good—I put a lot of effort into my appearance tonight—but it’s a nice confidence boost after Colton tore me down.

“Aaron, meet…” The masked man turns to me. “Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Haven,” I say, smiling at Aaron.

“She wants to fuck you, film it, and send it to Colton.”

Oh, god. I wasn’t planning on being that forward.

“You—um, you don’t have to,” I blurt. “I don’t want to… I mean, I wasn’t planning on starting with that.”

The masked man shrugs. “Best to get everything out in the open.”

“Hey, I’m happy to knock Colton down a peg,” Aaron says with a chuckle. “Is he your ex or something?”

My heart squeezes. “Something like that. You’re okay with this? You don’t want to, like, hang out a bit first?”

“We can do that. You seem cool. A couple of us were gonna head to the basement. There’s a pool table and some other games down there. Wanna join?”

Perfect. That’ll give me a little time to calm my nerves. “That sounds great. You wanna join?” I ask Athelia.

“Yeah, sur—”

“Actually,” the masked guy cuts in, “I have something I think you’ll wanna see. It’s upstairs. Off limits to most, but we can make an exception.”

Shit, shit, shit. This guy just won’t let up.

“Where upstairs?” Athelia asks.

“The turret. It’s my room.”

“So you are the hosts,” she murmurs, saying exactly what I’m thinking. And then I realize she’s leaning into this guy, and that her eyes are lit up with interest.

Oh. I must’ve read her wrong earlier. She’s actually into him, not put off by him.

Athelia looks like she’s about to say yes, but then she asks Aaron, “You know him?”

With a grin, Aaron nods. “Yeah. He’s not gonna kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

At that, the masked guy slides his arm around her. He tugs her closer, and Athelia lets him, a faint smile touching her lips.

Yep, definitely misread her.

Athelia looks up at the guy. “Just to… look at things?”

“Yeah. Like Aaron said, I’m not gonna kill you.”

“Okay.” Her eyes flit to me, and that worried look comes back. “But Haven, you’re still dr—”

“I know what I’m doing,” I cut in. “Colton fucking deserves it, and so do I.”

Athelia is still frowning as Aaron tugs me toward the house, but she doesn’t try to stop us. I wouldn’t let her if she tried, and she knows it. This is my decision, and mine only.

Once we’re in the house, Aaron slides his hand into mine. “So, any particular reason you decided to do this today?”

“He pissed me off, that’s all. Well, pissed me off more than usual.”

He snorts. “I get it. The dude is an ass. You sure this isn’t going to backfire on you? Will he retaliate?”

“He can try. It won’t matter.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yep.”

He can’t push me lower than rock bottom.

With a nonchalant shrug, Aaron leads me over to a pool table. “Have you ever played before?”

“Once or twice. I’m not very good at it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Sure.” He lifts his chin in the direction of two other guys. “You two on one team, the two of us on the other?”

“Sounds good to me,” one of them replies.

We play a couple rounds, and Aaron gives me some pointers on how to aim the cue stick better. He’s patient with me as I figure it out, although I think that’s mostly so he can have his body pressed against mine while I line my shots up. I’d probably be disgusted by him if it wasn’t for our agreement. If I’m going to fuck him, I’m going to have to let him touch me.

You won’t be able to do it, my mind whispers.

The thought stings, even though it’s true. I haven’t been able to let anyone in sexually since Colton fingered me in his family’s rose garden freshman year. All I can manage is blow jobs, and I don’t let anyone touch me while I do it.

I need the control—need to know I can stop at any moment.

But this, with Aaron… I can’t chicken out. I want Colton to see what he’s been missing out on by refusing to forgive me.

After the second round is over, Aaron leads me to a side room in the basement. There’s not much inside besides a bed and an old dresser, although there are some chains attached to the wall in a far corner. The sight of it sends a shiver down my spine.

What on earth could those be for?

“Before you start recording, how are we doing this?” Aaron asks as he closes the door behind us.

I freeze, halfway through propping my phone up on the dresser. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what are you trying to prove to Colton? Are you trying to show him someone can fuck you better than he can? Or are you reminding him of what he’s missing out on? That type of thing.”

“Oh. Um… the second.”

My stomach turns. Am I really doing this?

“All right. You ready?”

“I…”

My mouth goes dry, and I stand there with my mouth half open, trying to figure out what to say. Other than Colton, my only experiences with sex have been the countless times I cried while Isaiah forced himself on me. Whenever someone touches me in that way, memories of Isaiah holding me down flood my mind, and I panic.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to move past it. And god, I’ve tried. I have over a dozen failed hookups under my belt. Some were willing to be gentle with me. Patient. But it never makes a difference. I always freak out at the last second.

“Hey.” Aaron steps closer, and his hands fall to my waist. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve just…”

His eyebrows shoot upward. “Oh, shit. You’re a virgin?”

“Not—not exactly. But…”

Aaron gives me a minute to gather my thoughts, but when I don’t continue, he steps back. “Are you sure this is what you want for your first time? I know a lot of people care about that—want it to be special and shit. And…” He glances toward my phone. “Filming it for Colton? That’s a lot of extra pressure.”

My first time. Isaiah stole that from me, but there are other firsts. Consensual firsts. And I wanted those to be with…

I wanted them to be with Colton.

“Haven?”

“This isn’t my first time,” I manage.

“But you said—”

“It’s just been a long time, that’s all. I’m good. I’m ready. Just… maybe we start off slow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Aaron pulls me to the bed, and I take a steadying breath. We’re both sitting on the edge when he cups my face in his hands and leans in. Alarms are already going off in the back of my mind, even when he whispers, “Just tell me if you need me to stop.”

Breathless already, I nod, somehow finding it in me to kiss him back when his lips meet mine. I’ve done this before, and usually I can handle it.

You’re okay, I tell myself as I force my hands to travel up Aaron’s torso. I almost shove him back when he picks me up and places me in the center of the bed, but I stop myself just in time.

“Breathe,” he tells me as he pushes my hair back from his face. “You’re really tense.”

“Sorry. Just nervous.”

“It’s okay. Just follow my lead, okay?”

If only it was that simple.

But I smile and nod, and when he gently tugs my crop top up, I let him pull it over my head. That familiar feeling of dirtiness—of guilt—creeps into my thoughts and mixes with the already-present dread.

“Beautiful,” Aaron murmurs.

That singular word helps push my thoughts back. I’m not dirty. This isn’t dirty. I’m not at Cornerstone, and Aaron’s touch is soft, the exact opposite of Isaiah. So when he kisses me again, I let myself relax.

You can do it. You can’t live in fear forever.

Just as I think I’m going to be able to do this, Aaron’s hands move to cup my breasts. Even though my bra is still on, the simple action feels like he’s stripping me bare. When he squeezes them lightly, my chest constricts, and a memory of Isaiah doing the same thing on our wedding night sends a wave of nausea through me.

I jerk back, my voice panicked as I blurt, “Wait. I—I don’t think I can—” My voice falters when Aaron squeezes again. “Wait, Aaron, stop.”

Just as his hands fall away, the door slams against the wall, and Colton storms into the bedroom, a white mask in his hand.

“What the hell are you doing?”