Page 36

Haven

I’m sandwiched between Colton and Xander on one of the loft’s couches. A movie is playing on the TV, but my attention drifted from it the moment Colton hit play.

Today has gone differently than I expected it would. First, learning that Mark is trying to force Colton into an arranged marriage threw me off. I don’t know anything about Delilah, but I don’t need to. Not having a choice in who I married almost killed me. I understand why he’s so upset about it.

Second, I didn’t think I’d be able to take what the boys wanted to do to me. I was sure I’d have to tap out, but my memories of Isaiah stayed in the background. It made me realize something that’s been hovering just below the surface of my subconscious for months now.

My fear of Isaiah is still very present, but it’s not the biggest thing that’s holding me back anymore. Since the moment I was old enough to have my own coherent thoughts, guilt has haunted to me. Every sin I committed was like a visible mark on my skin, and each time I looked at myself, I was reminded of how far I fell short of God’s standards.

I’ve tried to claw free from the beliefs I grew up with, but some are embedded too deep. What I was taught about sex is one of those things.

According to Cornerstone’s theology, a woman having sex with someone who’s not her husband is tossing aside the sanctity of marriage that God created it to have. Add in the fact that I’m married, and I’m committing adultery, too.

That’s what’s been holding me back, not my fear of Isaiah.

My heart can’t let go of those beliefs. It can justify sex work as a means of survival—well, sometimes, anyway—which I suppose is the loophole that’s allowed me to make some semblance of a living. But having sex voluntarily? Enjoying it?

It’s a sin. Wrong. Dirty.

Unless I’m being forced.

I sit with that through the rest of the movie. How stupid is it that I’m trapped by beliefs that I rejected years ago? How sad is it that I need to be forced into a position, tied down, and degraded to be able to do something that everyone else seems to be able to do without an issue?

Why do I have to be like this?

At some point, I think the guys notice that I’m upset. Colton pulls me into his body until my head is resting on his chest, and Xander starts gently petting my hair. Tears—of shame, of confusion, of heartache—fall onto my cheeks, and when a sob finally works its way free, Xander cocoons his body around mine.

“It’s all right,” he whispers soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Am I? Everything feels so wrong. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to have pieces of Cornerstone still inside me. I just want to be free.

The boys hold me, muttering comforting things in my ear until my body calms down. At some point, I must fall asleep because I don’t remember the movie ending, or either of them getting up. It’s not until the sound of the garage door slamming shut that I come to.

The savory scent of dinner cooking downstairs makes its way into the loft. Loud, angry footsteps come up the steps, and I jump into an upright position, glancing around for somewhere to hide. When Lucas appears at the top of the stairs, jaw set and eyes hard, I scramble to the far end of the couch.

Immediately, he wipes the look of fury off his face. “I’m sorry. You’re okay, little fawn. I’m not upset at you.”

But that never made a difference before. It didn’t matter what had Isaiah in a bad mood. I was always the one he took it out on.

“Haven,” Lucas says gently, still standing across the room. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Numbly, I nod. Somewhere inside me, I know he won’t. He’s been the most protective of me since I got here. But that doesn’t change the fact that adrenaline has already been released into my veins.

“Dinner is almost ready,” he tells me as he inches toward the hallway. “You should go down.”

“Kay,” I say shakily.

With one last look of guilt, Lucas disappears down the hallway. I dart down the stairs. Xander and Colton are setting the table, and they both look up when I enter the room.

“You feeling okay?” Colton asks.

“Mmhmm.”

Frowning, Xander moves toward me. “You look upset.”

“Lucas scared me,” I mumble as he tucks me into his body. “I’m okay.”

Lips pressed to the top of my head, Xander sighs. “He probably had a bad practice. He just needs to cool off.”

It doesn’t reassure me the way he thinks it does, but I nod anyway. Colton has me sit at the table, and by the time he’s grabbed me a glass of water, Lucas has come downstairs.

“Coach extra bitchy today?” Xander asks.

“That’s one way to put it.” Lucas swipes a hand over his face. “Asshole was snapping at everyone left and right over nothing.”

“I know I’ve told you before, but I can get him fired with a single phone call,” Colton tells him from where he’s stirring the pot of soup him and Xander must’ve made together. “You just have to say the word.”

“I’m getting closer and closer every day,” Lucas says, turning toward the table.

When he sees how tense I still am, he freezes, and something akin to regret passes over his features. He crosses the room, and my stomach drops to the floor. I grab onto the table to keep myself from bolting upstairs and hiding under Colton’s bed.

But all Lucas does is plant an apologetic kiss to my forehead. “I promise you’re safe with me.”

I almost laugh. Despite him watching out for me over the past week or so, he’s still the violent, angry boy who bullied me for years.

Once Colton and Xander have dished out the soup, they take their spots at the table. The soup tastes amazing, and I finish my bowl in record time. Xander gives me more without a word, and I smile up at him in thanks.

They’ve been nicer to me over the past week. Sure, I still have to sleep in my cage and eat breakfast on the floor, and I’m sure I’ll have to go back to wearing more revealing clothing after today. But when I freak out like I just did upstairs, they’re more understanding—more like they used to be.

“I asked a couple of our informants to keep an eye out for anyone they didn’t recognize hanging around campus,” Colton says. “They managed to take a few photos for me.”

“Informants?” Frowning, my gaze skips from Colton to Lucas to Xander. “What do you need informants for?”

“You’ll never guess,” Xander says with a sly grin, “but usually, to get us information.”

“Asshole,” I grumble, stabbing at the cooked asparagus on my plate.

“We have certain people we like to keep an eye on,” Colton explains, although he’s still keeping it pretty damn vague. “So we pay a few select individuals to be our eyes and ears when we’re too busy to do so ourselves.”

“So you spy on people.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“But why? That’s creepy! And weird.”

“Sometimes it’s to make sure people aren’t planning a move against us,” Lucas says.

That sounds like he could be talking about Wes, Kellan, and Cal.

“Sometimes it’s to protect people,” Xander adds, and his gaze lingers on me for a second longer than normal.

Oh.

“You… spy on me?” I ask slowly.

Choosing to ignore me—typical—Colton places his phone on the table, sliding it over to me. “Swipe through these. Are any of these men the guy chasing you?”

My questions forgotten, I stare down at the man on the screen. It’s obviously not Isaiah, and I breathe out a temporary sigh of relief. But then I swipe, and my body turns to stone.

It’s him.

He’s sitting on a bench, and based on the background of the photo, I realize he’s near one of the buildings where some of my in-person classes are held.

“Swipe again,” Colton says.

I do. It’s another picture, this one near my dorm hall.

My stomach drops. “Have any of you seen Athelia?”

“She’s fine,” Colton says.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snap. “What if he comes after her? What if—”

“She’s well-protected,” he assures me, but the lack of information only makes me more nervous.

“I take it that’s our guy,” Lucas says lowly. He leans in to get a better look.

“So when are we killing him?” Xander asks.

I look up in shock. “What? No, you can’t kill him!”

Lucas frowns. “You don’t want us to?”

“No!”

Colton crosses his arms. “Why the hell not?”

“Because he has a family! I mean, I’m assuming he does, anyway. Parents, and maybe siblings. You know. I don’t want them to have to lose someone they love.”

Colton rolls his eyes, Lucas grumbles something under his breath, and Xander rubs at his face tiredly.

I could tell them the whole truth. I know I probably should. I just can’t.

Colton has gotten more patient with me over the past week, but I don’t know if I can fully trust it. He’s done that plenty of times in the past—lured me into a false sense of security just to pull the rug out from under my feet.

I won’t let him do that. Not with this. If he learns who Isaiah really is to me, he could use it as blackmail or something. Would Lucas even be able to stop him?

“She always was a bleeding heart,” Xander says to them. “We really shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Please don’t kill him,” I beg. “He’ll give up eventually, I’m sure.”

Letting out a sigh, Colton shrugs. “You realize you’re basically volunteering to stay with us for longer than necessary, right?”

He doesn’t seem too upset about that. If anything, I think he’s happy about it. He just knows I won’t be.

I gulp. “I’m aware.”

“For the record, I think you’re being really fucking stupid,” Lucas says, eyes dark. “Killing him is the best way to make sure you’re safe.”

“I can make do with second-best.”

Is Lucas right? Probably. But thinking of Isaiah’s little siblings and nieces and nephews finding out he died rips my heart to shreds. I always hated his father, but his mother was kind, even though she doled out harsh punishments to her children. None of them deserve the pain of losing such a close family member.

“We could always run him out of town,” Xander suggests.

“Then he’ll know who we are, and it’ll just make it easier for him to track Haven down when he comes back,” Colton says, his contemplative gaze fixed on me.

“We could have someone else—”

“No,” Colton cuts in. “She stays.”

Xander smirks. “Thought you might say that.”

It takes me a second to realize he wasn’t making those suggestions in good faith. He wanted to see what Colton would do if he was faced with an opportunity to set me free sooner than he wanted to.

Colton refusing to let me go isn’t surprising. What is surprising, though, is that I want him to keep me. Not forever—god, I’d rather die. But I think I made progress today, even if it was only pinpointing what’s mentally holding me back from sex.

The boys, despite all the hurt they’ve caused, are helping me in more ways than one. In some moments, I’ve actually felt delusionally safe around them.

And, at the end of the night, when Colton puts me in my cage, I realize the tension in my muscles eases. Being in here means one more locked door between me and Isaiah. It doesn’t matter that I’m sleeping less than ten feet away from my bully.

Somehow, that’s where I’m safest.