Page 9

Haven

Three years later - Halloween morning

?

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, grimacing at the bitter taste of the cum I just swallowed. My knees ache from kneeling on the laminate flooring of the library’s maintenance room, and I’m about ready to rip this guy to shreds.

“Fuck, that was good,” the security guard towering over me groans. Ralph? Raleigh? Ryan? He doesn’t bother to remember my name, so I don’t bother to remember his.

“I told you, you’re not allowed to touch me,” I grit out. As I put some distance between us, I glare up at him.

The motherfucker shrugs. “And I told you I wanted to come down your throat, not in your mouth. You shouldn’t have tried to pull away.”

“Listen, you know my terms. I stay in control, and you don’t touch me. You’re paying for a blowjob, not a facefuck.”

“Sorry,” he says, even though he’s obviously not. “Will an extra twenty make it better?” He tosses three bills at me instead of the normal two.

“If you do it again, we’re done,” I snap, snatching up the bills as they flutter to the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He zips up his pants and moves toward the door. “See you around.”

I stay silent, trying to shove down the feeling of dirtiness that clings to me. Words I heard spoken from the pulpit as a little girl filter through my head.

Your purity is the most precious thing you can offer to your future husband.

Adultery is one of the greatest sins you can commit.

God is always watching.

Once the security guy is gone, I slump against a shelf full of cleaning supplies. I stare into my lap, my hair falling around my face haphazardly. Most of it is brown, but the sunlight from the only window in here catches the tasteful strands of deep purple.

Dying my hair was the first thing I tried to do to reclaim my body as my own. Experimenting with an alternative style came second, and then the tattoo that covers my chest. All things that would mortify anyone back home.

Isaiah would probably kill me if he knew what I just did.

I shake my head to dislodge the thought. He may technically still be my husband, but I left him— escaped him. I’m not his anymore, and I never will be again.

Forcing myself to stand, I straighten my clothes and wipe at my mouth again. Now that that’s over with, I can head back to mine and Athelia’s dorm and chill out until the party tonight.

As I shove the three twenties in my pocket, I ignore the pang of guilt in my chest. My roommate—and my best friend—thinks I have a work-study job. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that by the time I applied, all the positions had already been filled. She’d beg me to stop if I told her how I’ve actually been making money, so I haven’t told her.

Athelia comes from an incredibly well-off family, and she’s never minded paying for anything I need, but I don’t like relying on her. Same with Julie and Ben. I appreciate everything they’ve done for me, and everything they continue to do, but I need to be able to rely on myself.

That’s why so many of Pemberton University’s security guys come to me to get their dicks sucked. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it, especially considering it’s all I can manage to do when it comes to sex. Every time I try to go further than that, I end up freaking out.

Except for with Colton.

Gritting my teeth, I shove that thought from my mind. Fuck him. It’s been three years to the day since we fell out, and the boy who used to hold me so gently has devolved into nothing more than a bully. Him, Lucas, and Xander.

It still stings like it happened yesterday, but I’ve done everything I can to move on. This is our last year at Pemberton, and after that, I already have a job lined up that’ll take me out of their lives.

I’ll never have to see any of them again. Never have to hear one of the humiliating rumors they’ve spread about me. Never have to worry about one of them cornering me and reminding me that, instead of them tormenting me, they could’ve been the ones protecting me.

I push out of the supply closet with an angry huff. The library is mostly empty, but I keep my head down anyway. I don’t need it spreading around the student body what I do in my free time. I’ve managed not to get caught this far, and I intend to keep it that way. There’s no way in hell I’m giving Colton, Lucas, and Xander more fodder for their taunts and insults.

As I round a shelf, a tall man with blond hair comes into view. He’s facing away from me, thank fuck, but that doesn’t stop a wave of panic from gripping my throat. All the air rushes out of my lungs, and I scramble back behind the shelf.

“Have you seen this girl anywhere?” he’s asking one of the students.

Oh my god.

It’s him. It’s Isaiah.

“I don’t think I have, no. She looks a little young to be in college.”

Before I can hear Isaiah’s response, I’m dashing back the way I came. I burst into the stairwell and run down the stairs so quickly, I trip and crash onto the landing. Pain ricochets through my knees, and I bite my tongue to keep myself from crying out.

Have to go. Have to hide.

No. No! It’s not him. It can’t be.

I left Cornerstone when I was eighteen. If Isaiah was going to find me, he would’ve done it years ago. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.

Panting, I lean against the wall for support and slowly drag myself to my feet. Over the years, my therapist and I have talked about this often. It’s the CPTSD. My mind never feels safe, and it conjures Isaiah out of thin air whenever I’m feeling particularly on edge.

But I’ve been doing fine lately. I’m not on edge.

“Have to go,” I hear myself mutter. “Just in case.”

Just as I begin moving toward the second set of stairs, someone grabs me from behind. My scream is muffled by a hand clamped over my mouth. It’s big enough to cut off airflow to my nostrils as well, and I claw at Isaiah’s arm. His leather jacket protects him from my nails, but—

Leather jacket.

Isaiah would never wear a leather jacket.

That means…

Freezing, I stare up at the man pinning me to the wall. No, not a man. He may tower over me, but he’s not twelve years older like my husband. No, he’s still a boy, barely older than I am.

Colton.

Even though he’s still cutting off my oxygen, I slump into the wall with relief. Colton may hate me, but he won’t drag me back to Cornerstone and lock me up for the rest of my life. I won’t be killed if he decides I’m not worthy of forgiveness.

“If you scream again, I’ll shove you down these stairs and leave you broken at the bottom until someone finds you.”

I whimper against his hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just because he’s not Isaiah doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me. He’s proven that in the past. Although there’s always been a difference between him and my husband. Colton would never— never —hurt me physically.

Still, his threat echoes through my mind, furthering my panic. Maybe he’s finally snapped, or I’ve finally pushed him over the edge. He could turn on me at any moment and switch from hurling insults to fists.

That’s what men do, isn’t it?

They always lose control.

“Are you going to scream?” he grits out.

Frantically, I shake my head. He releases me a second later, and I buckle over, gasping for air. My knees hit the hard floor, and he backs away like he’s disgusted with me.

Because he is.

“Who were you running from?”

“My h—”

I clap both my hands over my mouth. The lack of oxygen must be doing things to my brain because I can’t say that. Not to someone like Colton.

He nudges me with his boot impatiently. “Answer me.”

But I can’t. Isaiah isn’t here—I must’ve mistaken Colton for him upstairs—but my body can’t seem to comprehend that. My mind is spiraling, my throat tightening, my chest squeezing.

It’s not him.

He’s not here.

He can’t find you.

But my usual internal chant doesn’t work, and I only sink further into my panic.

“Serio—are you fucking kidding me?” Crouching down, Colton grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him. There’s no sympathy in his expression, only annoyance mixed with pure hatred.

We’ve been in this situation plenty of times before, years ago. Back then, he was more gentle. Patient. He’s who I ran to when I felt unsafe. Him, Lucas, and Xander.

I know better than to expect Colton to help me now, but I can’t help the pleading look in my eyes. Can’t help the way the word please falls pathetically from my lips. I hate being alone like this. It makes everything feel so much worse.

Colton scoffs. “You had my affection once, angel. You’re the one who threw it away.”

His words strike as hard as I know he meant them to, and I wince. He’s right. I’m the one who ruined things between us, and I did it despite knowing how much it would hurt him.

“So no,” he says lowly, darkly. “You lost the right to ask me for help years ago.”

With that, Colton releases me with a shove. The last thing I see before I dissolve into a fit of panicked sobs is his boots crossing the landing and disappearing up the steps.

. . .

It’s past noon by the time I’m able to get to my feet. Not a single person entered the stairwell for the entirety of my panic attack. Everyone always takes the elevators, and it’s not like many people are studying on Halloween of all days, anyway.

My legs are shaky as I make my way down the rest of the stairs. When I exit the library, I wince at the bright afternoon sunlight. It’s a chilly day, but the sun is warm on my back as I make my way to my dorm, head down.

It’s at times like these when I miss the boys so much that it physically hurts. They were always there for me, and I threw it all away.

Picking up my pace, I glance behind me. No one is following me—not Colton, not Isaiah.

Have you seen this girl anywhere?

Did my brain really make up those words? The exact timbre of his voice? Was there even a blond man—other than Colton—in the library today? How the hell am I supposed to distinguish reality from my fears?

Those questions haunt me until I make it back to my dorm. The moment the door shuts behind me, tension floods from my body, and I almost crumple to the floor. Athelia’s concerned expression is the only thing that keeps me upright.

“Are you okay?” she asks from where she’s curled up in bed with her laptop. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine.” I toss my worn leather jacket onto its hook. My heart pangs at the reminder that Xander got it for me. It feels stupid to think of him, but all three boys have been on my mind. Halloween is the day we fell apart, after all.

“Are you sure?” Athelia asks.

I collapse into my desk chair. “Had a panic attack, I guess. Came out of nowhere.”

Athelia’s face falls. “Haven—”

“I’m fine. Managed to calm myself down quicker than normal.”

Closing her laptop, she looks me over, her eyebrows drawn together. “Are you gonna be okay to go out tonight? We can stay in if you want. Watch a couple movies, binge Halloween candy, not have to worry about getting all dressed up.”

“We’re going out.”

“Haven—”

“We’re going out. We both need this, Thelia. I just want a night where I don’t have to deal with all the bullshit that comes along with being me.”

With a sigh, Athelia nods. She’s in the same boat as I am. The guys she befriended freshman year have turned into her worst nightmare. The difference is, I know why my boys abandoned me. I fucked up and hurt them, and there’s a part of me that thinks I deserve what they do to me. But with Athelia? She has no idea why Wesley, Cal, and Kellan randomly turned on her one day.

“It’ll be fun,” I tell her. “We need a little of that.”

“We do,” she agrees quietly.

There’s a Halloween party happening at some old house in town. According to all the rumors, some woman murdered her husband in the house, and it’s always been a mystery as to why. Some people say the house is haunted, although I think that’s probably bullshit. It’s definitely piqued my curiosity, though.

No one knows who’s hosting the party, and that only adds to the intrigue. I think it’s the perfect place to go on Halloween, and Athelia agreed when we heard about it a few days ago.

“So we’re still going?”

Athelia sighs, but then she nods. “Yeah. Yeah, we can still go.”