Page 55

Haven

When the front door opens, I perk up. I’ve been waiting for Colton to get home. He promised he’d take me to the library this afternoon. I told myself it’s to check out a book, but it’s more to spend time with him.

We both need a break from life, I think. For me, it’s getting out of the house, and for him, it’s stepping away from whatever work he’s been up to. I don’t know the details, but I can see the stress wearing him down. He’s not sleeping as well, he’s not eating as much, and he’s retreating into himself more and more.

But when Colton steps inside the house, my hopes of a nice afternoon with him fall apart. His eyes are dark, his features hardened. He’s angry. Really angry.

“What are you doing?” I ask, scrambling to the other side of the couch as he stalks toward me.

“I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” I ask cautiously.

With an impatient sigh, Colton yanks me off the couch and onto my feet. He doesn’t offer an explanation—just drags me toward the stairs. I must not be moving fast enough because he grabs me, throws me over his shoulder, and takes the steps two at a time.

“Colt—Colton!” I grab onto the back of his white dress shirt, and coming into contact with the crisp material has the gears turning in my head.

He only dresses like this for meetings. I’m not entirely sure what those meetings are for, but I know Mark is at most of them, and that Colton usually comes home pissed off at his father.

“Colton,” I say again, but this time, my voice falters.

The last time he dragged me through the house like this was when he brought me to the basement to flog me. That was almost six months ago, and I didn’t think I had to worry about that happening again.

I want that to be the case now.

In his room, Colton dumps me onto the bed and turns toward his walk-in closet. Panic claws up my throat as my mind’s eye zeroes in on the sex toys—both for pain and for pleasure—he keeps in there.

“Window,” I blurt.

It’s the first time I’ve called it in months. The boys have learned my limits and know what not to push me on. They went from cornering me into our agreement to treating me like something they treasure.

Colton freezes. He slowly turns around to face me, and I swear I see a touch of hurt mixed in with the emotions swirling in his eyes.

“I’m not…” The anger fades from his expression, and he comes closer, keeping his movements slow and predictable. “Angel, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re acting like you’re going to.”

My breaths are coming faster now, and I hate it—hate how quickly I panic at the first sign of anger from these three. They’ve been nothing but respectful of me for months, and here I am, assuming the worst for almost no reason.

As tension builds in my chest, I wish I could go back to Halloween freshman year and tell myself to follow my gut. I never should’ve doubted myself—or Colton—back then.

And I wish I didn’t doubt him now.

“That’s…” He pauses to think before grimacing. “That’s fair enough. I’m sorry. I just need you to get dressed.”

“To go to the library?”

“No. I’m sorry.” He disappears into his closet, coming out with a pretty white dress.

“That’s… for me?”

Nodding, he places it next to me on the bed. The skirt poufs out a bit instead of laying completely flat, and I run my hand over the soft material. Silk, maybe?

“A friend helped pick it out,” Colton says. “She has great taste.”

I look up from the dress. “She?”

His smile is amused, although there’s a note of pain, too. “Charlotte is in her sixties, angel.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I’m throwing you into this, and I’m sorry I scared you.” He kisses the top of my head. “I just really need you to put the dress on.”

I almost make a comment about how I never wear white, but I bite my tongue. He’s not the one who picked the dress out, and Charlotte probably doesn’t know much about my fashion choices.

Once I’m closed in the bathroom, I quickly slip the dress on. It’s gorgeous. The lacy off-the-shoulder top leads into three-quarter length sleeves that make me look much more elegant than I ever thought I could. Underneath the lace stretching across my chest is the silky white fabric that starts in a sweetheart neckline and continues all the way into the skirt. There are a few layers of tulle underneath to give it some shape, and then it cuts off just above my knees.

I frown at my reflection in the mirror, and my fingers trace over the sparkly embellishment at my waistline. Am I crazy for thinking this looks like a wedding dress?

Regardless, I can’t wear something like this without putting on a little makeup. I expect Colton to knock on the door and tell me to hurry up, but I even have time to do my hair without a single word from him.

When I step out of the bathroom, he’s typing on his phone, but the second he sees me, he drops it onto the bed.

I clear my throat, barely managing to keep my head high under his burning gaze. “I don’t have shoes to go with—”

He hands me a pair of simple white heels and then holds out his arm. Hesitantly, I grab onto it for balance while I slip on the shoes.

Once I have them on, Colton steps back. With his head tilted, he takes me in. I swear his voice is a little hoarse as he says, “Perfect.”

“You’re acting really weird, you know that?”

He smirks. “Says the girl who grew up in a cult.”

“Hey!” But I’m not mad. We’ve fallen back into the friendly banter we used to have with each other, and his teasing only ever warms my heart.

Colton collects his phone and something from his nightstand drawer that I can’t make out. “Let’s go.”

I follow him downstairs and into the garage. He selects his Lamborghini and helps me into the passenger seat. As he does, I try to get a good look at whatever is in his hand, but he drops it into his pants pocket and shuts the door.

Dammit. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s a clue to whatever is going on, but as usual, Colton is choosing to be frustratingly vague.

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, he glances over at me and frowns. “Seatbelt, angel.”

I’m too fixated on the object he just slipped into his pocket, running through ideas of what it could be in my head. When Colton leans over me, I’m snapped back into reality. His arm brushes mine as he grabs the seatbelt, and when he pulls it over my body, I’m hyper-aware of how close he is to me. His eyes meet mine as he clicks the seatbelt into place.

“Much better,” he says, lips barely an inch from mine.

Speechless, I watch him turn on the car and pull out of the garage. It takes me multiple minutes to gather my thoughts, and by then, we’re well out of his neighborhood and on our way into town.

“So… Charlotte,” I say.

“What about her?”

“Who is she to you? You called her a friend, but most men in their twenties aren’t friends with women in their sixties.”

“She’s the closest thing I have to a mother.” Colton’s voice is laced with pain, and I realize he’s not trying to hide it from me. “When my mom died, Char stepped in to help raise me. As I grew up, my father’s morals eroded, and I credit her with saving me from a similar fate.”

“So she’s a good person?”

“I don’t know about that, but she’s always been good to me.”

“Can I—”

I bite my tongue. Asking if I can meet her is a ridiculous question. Why would I want to? And why would Colton want to introduce me to her? Things aren’t like that between us.

Ignoring the pang of disappointment in my chest, I ask, “Where are we going?”

“The courthouse.”

“The court—why on earth do we need to go there?”

He’s silent.

With horror, I glance down at what I’m wearing, and everything clicks into place.

“Colt,” I say slowly. “Why am I in a white dress?”

“I thought you’d appreciate wearing something other than leggings and a T-shirt on your wedding day.”

Oh god.

Not for the first time, it feels like my entire life has been turned upside down. Marrying Colton? Colton Heverly? The boy who bullied me for years, forced me to sleep in a cage for months, and gets off on degrading me?

What on earth is he thinking?

And why am I not trying to jump out of his car right now?

“We don’t need witnesses?” I ask weakly.

“Not in Pennsylvania.”

“Well, we have to apply for a marriage license, right? That’s gotta take a couple days.” I remember a classmate talking about it last year.

“I already took care of it.”

“Without me?!” That really feels like something I should’ve been present for.

“Oh, you were there.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“Paperwork says otherwise.”

I sit in stunned silence for the rest of the drive. Colton parks in front of the courthouse, and I don’t move as he gets out of the car. He doesn’t seem surprised, but when he opens my door and I stay frozen, he sighs.

“The judge has a busy schedule. We don’t want to be late for our appointment.”

I shake my head.

“You have two options here, Haven. Either you walk into that courthouse of your own free will, or I carry you in kicking and screaming.”

“We can’t do this.”

Silence, and then a soft, “I’m sorry, angel.”

“This isn’t how I imagined my wedding would go,” I say quietly.

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to get married again, but I’ve dreamed about it a lot since arriving at Pemberton. This is nothing like what I hoped for.

“You think I’m happy about it?”

At the disappointment in Colton’s voice, I look up in surprise. I didn’t realize he’d thought about his preferences for his wedding. Until I found out about Delilah, I assumed he wasn’t the type who ever wanted to settle down. When I found out he was fighting the marriage arrangement with her, that only confirmed it for me.

But I guess I was wrong.

“I know it’s not ideal,” Colton says, “but this is happening whether or not either of us like it.”

When Colton holds out his hand, I take it, and he pulls me out of the car. He closes the door, and for the briefest of moments, he looks regretful. The expression disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by hard, stony resolve.

I stick close to him as we head inside the building and move through security. Colton must sense my growing anxiety because he wraps his arm around me as we walk toward the judge’s office. The sound of my heels against the tile echoes against the walls, and the noise grates against my nerves.

My entire life, I’ve found safety in being small and quiet. If I can slip past people’s perception of me, then I won’t get singled out. Won’t get blamed for a chore that went undone. Won’t get hit.

Now, with these goddamn heels announcing my every move, I feel vulnerable. My gut instinct is to hide, so I press myself closer into Colton, even though he’s probably who I should be hiding from.

“You’re okay,” he tells me, squeezing my shoulder. “We’re gonna be okay.”

That’s not what the nausea spreading through my stomach is telling me.

“What if I refuse?” I ask breathlessly.

“I’ve already bribed the judge once. I can do it again.”

“If I don’t sign the—”

“I’ll forge your signature.”

“Colton! You can’t just do this.”

Hands in his pockets, Colton leans down until he’s at eye level with me. “Protest all you want, angel, but you’re not walking out of here a single woman.”

My throat tightens. Ever since Christmas, Colton has let his guard down around me. It’s only every once in a while, but those occasions have been growing closer together in frequency. But here he is, emotionless, all cold and detached.

And I think I know why.

He’s afraid of me saying no.

It’s why he didn’t bring me in on the application process. It’s why he told me to get dressed and then didn’t explain where we were going until we were already in the car.

He lost his mother. His father emotionally abandoned him. I betrayed him. Taking another rejection from someone he obviously cares about would be brutal.

I touch his arm. “Colton—”

“Don’t,” he says tightly. “If you start begging, I don’t know if I can keep saying no to you, and I have to do this. We have to do this.”

“That’s not what I was going to do.”

He looks down at me in shock. “What, you’re willingly going to go through with this?”

“Tell me I can trust you.”

His eyebrows draw together. “What?”

“Tell me that the last six months mean something to you. Tell me that today isn’t the end of you caring about me—caring for me. Tell me I can trust you, Colton.”

He twists a strand of my hair around his finger. He tugs on it gently while saying in a quiet, tortured voice, “You can trust me.”

“Okay.” I take his hand. “Then I trust you.”

He looks away then, his eyes glassy. “I really am sorry. I—”

The door to the judge’s office opens, and he beckons us in. Stepping inside feels like moving through a fever dream. Him and Colton have a short conversation, and the judge has us stand near his desk facing each other. Colton takes my hands in his, and a sense of dizziness washes over me.

My trust for Colton has grown slowly since we renegotiated our deal. It was without my permission at first, but then I let myself fall into it. Into him. I wanted to be close to him again. Not just because of the protection he offers, but because I never truly stopped loving him. It’s why everything he did hurt so much.

And it’s why every gentle touch, every kiss, and every thoughtful gesture means so much to me.

I want him. I want all three boys.

I realize the judge is saying something, and when he finishes, Colton grimly says, “I do.” He reaches into his pocket and slides something onto my left ring finger.

Oh my god.

The silver band fits perfectly, and I stare at the shiny, round diamond in the center, surrounded by three smaller ones on each side. It’s beautiful in an almost understated way, which suits me perfectly.

This entire time, I’ve been staring at Colton’s chest, unable to look at him. As the judge starts up again, I meet Colton’s eyes in shock. His mournful expression mirrors what I’m feeling inside, and it breaks my heart.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

The judge finishes speaking. I didn’t make out a single word that came out of his mouth, but I know what he said regardless.

Unable to bear the look in Colton’s eyes, I drop my gaze back to his chest. “I…”

I want to scream. I want to tell Colton how unfair this is, but I know it’s unfair to him, too. I want to ask if I’m stupid for trusting him, but I can’t. I can’t because I want to trust him. I need to trust him.

“Haven,” Colton says softly.

I close me eyes. “I do.”

And then Colton kisses me. It’s not the first time he’s done so, but the way he moves his lips against mine feels like a new beginning. It pulls me out of my thoughts and back to the sparsely decorated room we’re in, and I grab at his arms to steady myself.

“See?” he whispers as he nudges my nose with his. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

I can’t say anything. I want to run from him, but at the same time, I want to bury my face in his chest and sob while he holds me.

“Just need you both to sign this,” the judge says.

With an arm around my waist, Colton turns us to the desk. He signs the certificate first. When he gives me the pen, I sign my name with a shaking hand.

“Thank you,” Colton tells the judge.

My eyes burn as he leads me out of the courthouse. The click of my heels against the tile fades from my mind because all I can focus on is the ring. I trace my fingers over it, memorizing how it feels.

It’s temporary. I know that. This isn’t how either of us wanted to get married. Whatever reason Colton has for this, it won’t last, and he’ll divorce me the moment it’s convenient.

That hurts more than it should.

Once we’re in the car, Colton drives off in silence. He doesn’t speed, which is a first for him, I think. I move my hand, watching the way the light dances off the diamonds. I think this is the prettiest thing I’ve ever had. Colton did a really good job picking it out.

I inhale sharply, my hand dropping. He picked it out. He got the dress. He filed the application.

Whatever trust I had in Colton falls away, and anger rises in its place.

“You okay?” he asks.

“You knew you were going to do this.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The ring. You already had the ring.” I turn to face him, my words burning with fury. “How long have you had it for, you asshole? How long have you kept this from me? This is my life, Colton. You can’t just—”

“It was my mother’s.”

That mournful expression returns to his face, and it hits me that maybe he wasn’t upset in the judge’s office because he was marrying me. Maybe it was because of her. Because she doesn’t get to be here for the important moments of his life.

No. No, that can’t be it, because this isn’t an important moment in Colton’s life. This is all fake. A ruse. A strategic move in whatever game he’s playing against his father. He said he had to do this, not that he wanted to.

Colton clears his throat. “It’s been passed down in her family for generations.”

“And it just happens to fit me perfectly?” I ask flatly.

“I… had it resized for you,” he admits. “I wasn’t sure if it would come to this, but I needed some type of backup plan. My dad has been breathing down my neck about Delilah, and I found out today that she set a wedding date without me. I won’t marry her, Haven. I won’t.”

“And you can’t if you’re already married.” The statement comes out of my mouth deflated, disappointed.

It’s a stupid thing to focus on, but this is the second time I’ve gotten married without being wanted by the groom. It stings more than I’d like to admit.

“It’s not just that.” Colton’s right hand leaves the steering wheel and finds my thigh. I try to shove it away, but the motherfucker’s arm doesn’t budge. “This way, Isaiah can’t take you away from us. He can claim to be your husband all he wants, but now we have proof that he isn’t.”

“Nice try, but I know a load of bullshit when I hear one.”

Silence falls between us. At first, I think it’s a charged silence—angry, tense, hateful. But then I steal a glance at Colton, and the walls I’ve been building this entire drive crumble in an instant.

He doesn’t look pissed.

He looks heartbroken.

Desperate.

“Take it off,” Colton says quietly, attention still focused on the road.

“What, the ring? You want it back already?”

He shakes his head. “Just… look at it.”

I slip the ring off my finger, examining it more closely, and that’s when I notice what’s engraved on the inside of the band.

Colton, Lucas, and Xander.

It feels like I’ve gotten the air knocked out of me. Did I really misread Colton this badly? This is a level of commitment far deeper than I thought he’d ever want with me. He wouldn’t defile his mother’s ring for something with a woman he doesn’t want to be with for the rest of his life.

But that means…

Oh my god.

When I glance over at Colton, I realize he’s pulled over. Before I can say a single word, he’s climbing out and rounding the car.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he opens my door.

But he doesn’t answer, instead leaning in, undoing my seatbelt, and pulling me from the vehicle. Once I’m on my feet, he cups my cheeks and stares down at me with blazing intensity. His lips part like he’s on the cusp of saying something, but he’s holding himself back.

“What?” I whisper.

“You,” he whispers back. “Angel, I…”

He doesn’t finish. Not with words, anyway.

Colton grabs my waist and fuses his mouth to mine. He kisses me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters to him. Like he’s consumed by me. Like he loves me.

When he pulls away, my arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, and our bodies are pressed against each other’s in every possible spot.

“I’m sorry I forced you into marrying me,” he says, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I abandoned you. I’m sorry I hurt you for so long. I don’t deserve you, and I don’t know if I can ever truly fix things between us, but I’m making you mine anyway. You’re my wife, and I’m not letting anyone take you away from me.”

Head spinning, I stare up at him. This is the boy who stood up for me, who never got tired of my naive questions, who killed for me. I broke his trust, and in return, he broke me. But he kept his promise. He put me back together, piece by piece.

Since Halloween, it feels like Colton has changed, and this confirms it. His moments of kindness stopped being motivated by his sadistic desire to mess with my head. They turned genuine, to the point that I don’t wonder if he’s about to turn on me just so he can see the heartbreak in my eyes.

But it’s not enough.

I know he can feel it, too. He’s holding himself back, just like I am. We may be married now, but that’s not a reflection of who we are.

Maybe it’s a reflection of what we want, though.

“Things will be different with me,” he says, voice soft. “With us. We’re not going to hurt you like Isaiah did. We’re going to protect you, just like we always should’ve.”

I want to believe him. I want to wake up each morning knowing that if I jumped, Colton would catch me. If I fell, he’d pick me back up again. If I got lost, he’d search to the ends of the earth to find me. He’d tell me he would if I asked him, I know, but words only go so far.

They can’t erase the past.

I’m not like Athelia, although I wish I could be sometimes. Revenge isn’t a route I can take. Breaking the guys the way they broke me isn’t something I think I’m strong enough to do.

But…

I want to trust him, my mind whispers as Colton’s thumb strokes across my cheek, and I realize he’s wiping away a tear.

“Colt, I…”

An ache expands in my throat, and I can’t continue. All I can manage is to look up at him and wish he could read my mind.

“Hey, hey.” He thumbs away another tear. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

A stifled sob escapes me, and all of a sudden, Colton’s arms envelop me and press me into his chest. Cedarwood and lemon fill my lungs, and I bury my face in his shirt. He holds me gently, and it hurts, but it’s healing, too.

I cried after I married Isaiah. I was terrified, and I was right to be. This, though? This is different. I couldn’t imagine a future of happiness or safety with Isaiah. But with Colton? With all of the guys? Their dedication to me is a step toward a life redeemed. My life, but also ours.

And… I think I’m ready to fight for it.