HUSBAND WHO, PART II #3
From the fateful Friday, when I returned to Harmony Heights to discover my Haven was gone, I never really understood it.
It made no sense. Her worth was here in Harmony Heights, and I figured one of the Owed would somehow be complicit in her disappearance.
I never looked too closely at Winter because I couldn’t reach him, and because I couldn’t leave Haven long enough to try.
My bros tried, but I let it drop. One day, I’d get revenge, but that wasn’t as important as bringing Haven back to me.
And now, more than two years later, Dallas is telling me that Winter came after Haven because of the way Jack was selling girls in the basement of the Fortress and embezzling the funds from the Order?
I believe him. Of course I fucking do. Dallas wouldn’t lie to me; neither would Adrian, and I can totally see him torn between letting the matter drop and feeling like I needed to know the truth. But why is this coming out now?
More importantly, how?
In answer, Dallas reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a folded piece of paper that, once he’s unfolded it, is revealed to be multiple pages ripped out of a small book not unlike Haven’s notebooks.
Without another word, Dallas moves toward me, handing me the pages.
The pages are covered in heavy, black print. Each letter is deliberate, written on a slant. It’s not in cursive, and the handwriting seems undeniably masculine.
“With Adrian taking over the office that used to be Jack’s,” Dallas says, “he’s been going through all my old man’s shit. I didn’t bother when I was King, but Adrian… you know how he is.”
I nod because… yeah. I know.
“Anyway, he found a bunch of these journals that Jack kept hidden in a locked drawer. He’s been combing through them for weeks, trying to make sense of just how much Jack was embezzling, plus some other shady shit he was doing. And then, last night, he came upon those pages. Go on. Read ‘em.”
I already am.
The first line that catches my attention is:
Johnny Winter has become unexpectedly useful.
Useful. That monster? How could he be useful?
I keep reading, my jaw tightening when I spy a familiar name.
Haven Smith remains difficult. If this continues, alternative methods may be necessary, especially as Adrian insists on being defiant.
Luckily, Winter has expressed renewed interest in a partnership, and has lately let slip a few threats should I choose to refuse him. It seems like he wants an Offering to control me, and I have just the one to keep my sister’s boy and the rest of the Offerings in line…
I keep reading. By the time I reach the end, I understand why Dallas took the knife from me.
Here it is, completely outlined in some demented psycho’s diary.
As Jack Collins planned to manipulate Johnny Winter into taking Haven to punish both her and Adrian for failing to marry when he basically ordered it, all the way to the humor he found in the Heyward boy cracking up all because the useless Offering had been sacrificed to prove to everyone that, in Harmony Heights, the only one who was untouchable was the King, it’s suddenly crystal fucking clear.
Long live the goddamn King—unless one of the peons you step on decides to poison you with whiskey, whether they’re blood or not…
I crumple the pages, silently stewing over everything I just learned.
“Connor? Hey, Con. I had to tell you, right? You needed to know.”
Don’t worry, Dallas, my old friend. You’re absolutely right. I one hundred percent needed to know, if only because it all makes so much fucking sense now.
For years, I believed Johnny Winter stole Haven because she was easy to grab. Pushed further out of the secret society every time Adrian and I rejected her, she was an Offering without parents, without protection, and with me gone that fateful day, she was a perfect target.
Only it wasn’t a coincidence that Haven was picked out of all the available Offerings. She was—damn it—offered up to Winter, the perfect bait, and it was Jack Collins who arranged it all.
Worse, he wanted it to happen. It was a twisted punishment because Haven wasn’t the pawn he wanted her to be, so he turned her into one in his sick game.
I meet Dallas’s gaze. “He knew what would happen if Winter took her. And when Winter did, he didn’t do anything to get her back.”
Jack Collins’s son nods, and in his eyes, I see the same pain I saw in Haven’s grey ones for so long. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be, Dallas,” I say, and I mean it. “It’s not your fault that piece of shit was your father. We should’ve expected something like this. If he could turn on his own wife…”
I pause, letting my voice trail to a close.
“You can’t kill a dead man,” Dallas repeats, firmer this time. “Trust me, if there was a way, I wouldn’t need my sandbag. When shit gets tough, I’d just kill my sperm donor and that fucker Julian”—the abusive prick who hurt Dallas’s Lucy—“again and again until I felt better.”
He’s right. You can’t kill a dead man, but…
My lips kick up in a small grin. “Yeah. You’re right. But, if you’ve got an extra shovel or two, plus some time tonight, I think I’ve got an idea that might help just a little.”
Dallas frowns. “A shovel?”
I nod.
“Um. How many you need? ‘Cause I’ve got one I keep in the trunk of my black car, and I know Bas has one in his garage.”
I think of the men who’ve been my best friends, my allies, my brothers, and my grin widens. “How about three total?”