Page 76

Xander

By the time we get back to Birchwood, Wes is exhausted but awake. Athelia is curled up in between him and Cal with her head on Cal’s lap. With one hand, Cal is stroking Athelia’s hair, and with the other, he still has his fingers on the inside of Wes’s wrist. I don’t think he’s stopped checking his pulse during the entire drive, and Wes hasn’t tried to pull away.

Kellan pulls up in front of their house, and the vehicle rolling to a stop wakes Haven and Athelia. The rest of us—other than Wes—are still too wired to fall asleep.

“How is he?” Athelia asks quietly as she sits up.

“You know you can ask me that, right?” Wes quips with a playful smile.

“He’s good,” Cal says. “The only way he’s dying tonight is if I kill him for being so goddamn annoying.”

“Not funny,” Athelia says flatly.

“Hey.” Wes tugs her in for a quick kiss. “Not going anywhere, my soul.”

Kellan opens the side door. “Come on. I wanna get some sleep.”

I reach to take the car keys from him, but Cal snatches them and tosses them to Lucas.

“Hey!”

“No way in hell you’re driving. Not after the amount of blood you gave Wes tonight.”

“He’s got a point,” Lucas says. “We’ve had enough close calls today.”

“Fair enough,” I grumble.

Athelia hugs Haven tight, and I frown when Haven winces. We all knew Isaiah would hurt her, but I guess I’ve been subconsciously denying it.

Once Athelia is out of the van, Haven crawls over to me. I’ve barely gotten to touch her because she fell asleep against Lucas, and I couldn’t move until the transfusion was done.

Lucas gets us moving again, and I grunt in shock when Haven climbs onto my lap so she’s straddling me. She frames my face in her hands and lowers her lips to mine. It’s everything I didn’t realize I needed until she put her hands on me.

“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

With a shocked breath, I pull away to stare at her. “Haven.”

Tears flood her eyes. “I think I always have, Xan. I think—”

I don’t let her finish. With my lips on hers, I shift her so she’s closer to me and hold her head gently. I deepen the kiss until Haven is panting into my mouth. God, I’ve missed this.

“I love you, too,” I say breathlessly. “I have since the moment I first laid eyes on you, doll.”

Haven frowns. “When you found me having a panic attack?”

With a chuckle, I shake my head. “No, it was before that. Remind me some other time, and I’ll tell you the story. For right now…” I kiss her again. “God, Haven, I missed you.”

“I missed you.” Her fingers run through my hair. “But I knew you’d come for me. I… I was worried you’d be too late, that Isaiah would—that he’d—” She breaks off with a whimper.

“Hey, hey. Just… come here, Haven. Let me hold you. He’s never touching you again. That’s what matters.”

As Haven burrows into me, my arms encircle her. I’d give anything I could to change the course of the past two days. Hell, I’d give up my life if it meant Haven wouldn’t have fallen into Isaiah’s hands again. Instead, all I can do is whisper to her and remind her that she’s safe.

It’s not enough, though. It never will be. We can’t erase what happened.

It only takes another minute to get home, and then Lucas is picking Haven up and carrying her inside. My family is still here, so we tiptoe upstairs and into our room.

“I want to shower,” Haven says softly. “I want to wash away his…”

She doesn’t finish, and Lucas clenches his jaw as he brings her into the bathroom. I’m frozen in place as rage consumes me, quickly followed by guilt.

We could’ve prevented this. I could’ve prevented this if I’d just gone straight to Haven after the graduation ceremony instead of heading for my family. What made us think that Isaiah wouldn’t show up on the one day he knew Haven would be out in public?

“Do you want help?” Lucas asks Haven. He has her sitting on the counter while he scrubs Wes’s blood off his hands at the sink.

“I’d like to be alone.”

He frowns. “Cal said you’re supposed to stay off your feet.”

“I’ll be fine, Luc. Please.”

It’s obvious he doesn’t like the idea of leaving her, but he steps out of the bathroom anyway. The moment he closes the door, his eyes meet mine, and I see every little thing he’s thinking.

“We should’ve left him to burn,” Lucas says hoarsely. “Shooting him was too painless.”

I don’t say anything—just cross the room and wrap my arms around his waist. He’s so tense, so angry, that when he pulls away, I was already expecting it.

“I need to get out of here. Go for a ride and get my head on straight.”

“Lucas, if you’re not here when Haven gets out of the shower, it’ll break her. You know it will.”

“I—”

“She’s already struggling enough without Colton. She needs you.”

He shakes his head. “She needs the Lucas who can look at her without instantly losing his shit at the reminder of what Isaiah did to her. And that guy is not in the room with us right now.”

“You won’t lose your shit.”

“Yes, I will. God, Xander. I can barely hold it together right now.”

I slip in front of him and plaster my body to the door so he can’t get out. “No. You’re not fucking doing this.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he grits out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Look at me, Luc. At us. Have you ever laid a hand on me in anger? Hit me? Punched me? Shoved me?”

“No! Because I always left until I calmed down. It’s what I have to do.”

“It’s not,” I tell him softly. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are not your dad.”

He lets out a panicked breath. “Xan—”

“Stay. Prove me right.”

“And what if I prove you wrong? What if I’m just as much of a monster as he is?”

“Then we would know by now, wouldn’t we?”

He snaps his mouth shut.

“Sit down, Lucas,” I say on a sigh. “Give yourself a break for a minute.”

He sits stiffly on the edge of the bed, and I lower myself next to him and rub his back. That’s how we sit until the bathroom door opens.

When Haven steps out, she’s wearing one of the many old T-shirts I’ve stolen from Lucas over the years, and her hair is wrapped up in a towel. She’s already re-bandaged her feet, but my focus snags on the bruises on her thighs and shins.

Lucas is frozen as she walks toward us, but all it takes is her wincing and putting her hand on the dresser to steady herself. He immediately jumps into action and sweeps her into his arms. And when he looks down at her, the only thing in his eyes is concern.

“Careful.” His voice wobbles, like he’s afraid, but I know he doesn’t have any reason to be. When it comes to Lucas, his love overpowers his anger every single time.

I stand. “Come on, doll. Let’s get you to bed.”