Chapter 54
Haven
When I open my eyes again, the world has gone dark.
It’s not the soft gray of dusky twilight, either. This is actual darkness. The light from the fireplace casts everything in shades of amber and shadow.
The mattress shifts beside me. “What time is it?” Kai rasps.
On the other side of me, Bastian jerks awake with a sharp inhale. “It’s still snowing.” He’s already moving, his warmth disappearing as he slides out of bed.
I blink toward the windows. He’s right. The snow is falling so thick and fast that I can’t see anything beyond the glass.
“Jesus,” Kai mutters. “How long were we out? Feels like I slept for days.”
Bastian’s silhouette shifts to the nightstand. A glow lights up the room as he checks his phone. “Half-past eight. We slept the entire fucking day.”
My stomach drops at the harsh tone in his voice. “Is there anything about this storm?”
“I’ll let you know,” Bastian murmurs as he scrolls through his phone.
“Can’t be too bad,” Kai says as he reaches over to flip on the lamp on his nightstand. “Power’s still on.”
“I’ve got backup,” Bastian says without taking his eyes off his phone.
“That Land Rover of yours can handle snow, right?” Kai says through a yawn. His back clicks as he stretches his arms and arches.
“Yes, but it seems roads are impassable.”
“Even for your—”
“Even for the Landie,” Bastian cuts in with a flat voice.
Kai sits up beside me, wincing as his injured leg shifts. “So we’re stuck.”
“For now,” Bastian says, perching on the edge of the mattress, facing the windows. “The storm cleared up this morning for a few hours. Sounds like it’ll happen around the same time tomorrow.”
Shit.
We should have gotten out of bed this morning. Should have moved, should have run, should have done something. Instead, we spent it sleeping off our orgasms.
Rooke still hasn’t discussed his plan with us, but I’m on the same page as Kai. We both assume he wants us to run. How far, and for how long, is probably what he thinks we won’t like to hear.
I’m hoping it’s negotiable. Not the running—I’m actually looking forward to that. But I’d like at least some say in where I end up.
The three of us sit in the darkness, listening to the wind howl outside. It sounds angry, like it knows what we did and wants to bury us for it.
“We should eat,” I say, because if I don’t do something, I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. “Is there anything in the kitchen?”
Bastian’s already moving toward the door. “I’ll make something. You two rest.”
“Like hell.” Kai throws off the covers and limps after him, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood. “I’m not just sitting here like a fucking invalid.”
I follow them both, wrapping Bastian’s cashmere throw around my shoulders like a cape.
Kai slumps into a chair at the kitchen island, his injured leg stretched out in front of him. I perch on the stool beside him, pulling the throw tighter.
Bastian takes eggs from the fridge, bread from the pantry, a cast-iron skillet from somewhere beneath the counter. He cooks like he does everything else—precise, controlled, utterly competent.
I watch his hands and try not to think about the blood those hands washed off me last night.
The memories must have crept back in while I slept, because I remember everything.
“So,” Kai says, breaking the silence. “What’s it feel like having dinner with a couple of fugitives, Rooke?”
Bastian doesn’t turn around. “Innocent until proven guilty, boy.”
Kai scoffs. “Seriously, though. I think we need a better plan than ‘run and hope no one catches us.’ My passport’s in that house somewhere, I don’t even know where.”
“I don’t even have a passport,” I admit grudgingly.
He cracks an egg into the skillet with one hand. “We don’t need passports.”
Kai glances my way. I’m not the only one who noticed the ‘we’ in that statement.
We didn’t talk much about Bastian’s plan, but me and Kai both thought it involved him giving us the Land Rover to make our escape. Alone.
“We have a few hours until the storm clears. Plenty of time to pack. We’ll be ready to leave as soon as the roads are clear.”
“Leave and go where, exactly?” Kai asks.
Bastian pauses mid-stir, staring at the scrambled eggs for a long moment.
“Haven, could you make us some coffee?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I hop off my stool and go over to the coffee machine. Bastian recites how to make us each a coffee, and I do my best to follow along. I nearly scream and drop the container when the milk steamer’s jets turn on, but I manage to hold it together.
When I set his cup beside the range where he’s cooking, he gives me an unreadable look, then murmurs, “Thank you, sweet girl.”
The endearment makes my heart flutter inside my chest. I don’t know if I like the feeling. It’s a lot…and I already have so much going on inside me right now.
“I have properties where my name isn’t on the deed,” Bastian says, his cup pausing by his lips. “Remote locations. Places where no one will think to look.” He takes a slow sip of coffee and then turns to look at us.
Kai and I exchange glances.
“Properties,” I repeat slowly. “Plural.”
“I told you I had money,” he says.
Fuck, that feels like it happened years ago. But, yeah, I do remember him lecturing me about money. How important it was that I learn how to invest and stuff like that.
“Okay, but…” I trail off, not sure how to articulate what I’m feeling. It’s one thing to know your—Partner? Other boyfriend?—is wealthy. It’s another to realize he has multiple off-grid hideouts like some kind of Bond villain.
“How many?” Kai asks. His voice has gone flat and suspicious.
“Plural,” Bastian parrots, like a joke will make either of us stop the interrogation.
“Why do you have multiple secret hideouts?”
Bastian is quiet for a long moment. He turns back to the stove, pulling the skillet back onto the heat and stirring the eggs with more force than necessary. The smell of bacon sizzling in the nearby grill oven fills the kitchen.
“Because…sometimes I have to disappear.” He points to the bread. “Put some bread in the toaster please, Haven.”
My legs feel wobbly, but I obey.
What fucking choice do I have?
“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Kai’s voice is careful, like he doesn’t want to spook a wild animal.
“It’s none of your concern,” Bastian replies, just as cautiously.
“Bullshit.” Kai slams his palm on the counter, making me jump. “We just killed people!”
Bastian lets out a bitter laugh. “You think I care about your body count?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t you?” Kai demands.
“Boy, the fact that you two’ve killed a couple of people means diddly fucking squat to me.” Yet, Bastian’s spatula scrapes harder and harder against the skillet.
The two of them dancing around each other like this is making me feel sick and even more on edge than I already am. The last thing I can handle right now is them fighting.
I stare at the glowing threads inside the toaster, wishing I could go back in time and—
What?
Not shove an electric knife into Ezra’s stomach?
The nausea wells up so suddenly, I almost don’t make it to the kitchen sink before I’m spewing up stomach acid. Guess I’ve already digested Sharon’s Thanksgiving dinner, and thank fuck for that. Her turkey was bad enough going down.
There’s a hand rubbing soothing circles onto my back a moment later.
Then an arm supporting mine.
Kai and Bastian lead me back to the kitchen counter and help me onto a stool.
“I’m okay,” I mutter, batting away their hands. “Just stop fighting, will you?”
“We weren’t—“ Kai begins, right on top of Bastian’s, “That was not what—”
Thankfully, when I hold up a hand, they both stop.
Bastian brings me a glass of water, and I gulp half of it down. He turns away, but I grab the sleeve of his shirt, halting him.
“Kai’s right. We can’t keep hiding our demons from each other. This thing—“ I glance back at Kai, standing at my other shoulder “—is only going to work if we can trust each other.”
Bastian looks away, staring at nothing for a moment. “Demons?” he huffs, a rueful smile touching his mouth. “I’ve got Satan in my back pocket.”
A chill goes through me, followed by another sharp spike of nausea.
“We’re not in a position to judge,” Kai says.
Bastian’s smile hardens when his eyes move to Kai. “If there wasn’t a blizzard out, you two would be long gone.”
“No we wouldn’t.” I lay a hand on Bastian’s arm. “Why do you think we came to you? This is exactly—”
“You’re not hearing me,” he says, his voice going cold as he slowly pulls his arm out from under my touch. “You’d be gone, because I would have sent you packing.”
My mouth falls open. “What? Why?” I blurt out.
“Because I don’t need this kind of attention on me!
” His voice is rising, his jaw growing tighter and tighter.
When we say nothing, he scoops up my hand and twists, showing me my fingertips.
“There’s blood under your nails, Haven. Blood of the man you killed.
And you—“ He drops my hand so quickly that it hits the counter before I can catch it.
I wince, cradling it in my lap as Bastian takes a step toward Kai.
“You witnessed your entire family being mowed down, and you did nothing.” Bastian holds up a finger. “Except, you did do something, didn’t you? You killed a witness. Your own mother.”
My skin prickles in the sudden hush that follows his words. Kai’s hand slides over my shoulder, squeezing me, but I’m not sure if he’s trying to comfort me, or reassure himself.
“Not like it was premeditated or some shit,” Kai says. “We didn’t exactly go in there planning to kill anyone. But then shit went down, and we—“
“Didn’t have a choice?” Bastian’s dry chuckle cuts him off.
He turns away to fetch his coffee, then stands at the range where the eggs are going cold in the skillet, staring out one of the kitchen windows as he sips at his cup.
“My life was so fucking uncomplicated before I met you two.”
For a long moment, he just stands there, his back to us, his shoulders rigid.