Chapter 6
Six
HAVEN
If I don’t get murdered tonight, I may just die of embarrassment.
After practically drooling over his abs, I completely misunderstood when he asked if I wanted him to walk ahead. I thought he was offering me a chance to check out his butt too.
Gah. Just kill me now.
But also, please don’t.
The guy, Becks, keeps pace with me as I race out of the woods and down the street toward my house.
I can’t look at him as we go. The cold air does nothing to cool my flushed cheeks, and with the gun in my hand, I don’t need to keep checking on him.
I feel better, safer, with the weapon, even though I don’t know how to use it.
I’ve never shot, let alone held a gun before, and it’s probably obvious.
But it’s just point and pull the trigger, right? How hard can it be?
A mix of relief and fear hits me, making my knees a little weak, when I spot my house up ahead. Our blue bungalow. Small, cozy, just two bedrooms, but it’s fine for me and my parents. We’ve certainly lived in worse. I stumble a step, and Becks’ hand shoots out to catch me before I fall.
I mumble, “Thanks,” and go to tug free, but he holds firm, keeping me in place.
My heart rate spikes. Maybe I was wrong to feel safe around him after all?
But when I glance over at him and give my arm another pull, he lets go.
“Hold on. You’re going to scare them half to death barging in like that,” he says, gesturing to my face.
I’d completely forgotten about my split lip, and when I gingerly reach up to prod it, it’s still wet with fresh blood and starts to throb. When I wince, his mouth presses into a hard line.
Reaching down, Becks grabs the hem of his shirt. Pulling it partially up, he stretches it so he can dab at the blood on my chin, revealing his crazy set of stacked abs that mesmerized me before.
I snap my gaze to his face to keep from falling under their spell again, but it doesn’t help much. His face has to be symmetrically perfect. He’s so good-looking it borders on unreal.
Who is this guy and why isn’t he making millions modeling?
You’d think nearly getting killed would kill my hormones too. Apparently not.
This is ridiculous.
Heat rises to my face again and I step out of reach. What Becks doesn’t realize is that my parents are probably already at DEFCON 1. It’s not going to matter much that I look like I’ve been attacked, when I’m sure they’re already envisioning the worst.
I appreciate the thought though.
“Look, it doesn’t matter—” I start, when a screen door opens and then slams shut.
“Maybe we should wait a few more minutes,” I hear my mom call out, worry clear in her tone.
My dad is just jogging down the front steps, his hurried paces bringing him to his beat-up SUV.
“It’s been over a half-hour,” he answers. “Something’s not right. I’m going to look for her.”
“Wait! I’m here!” I call, rushing forward just as he yanks open the driver’s side door.
His shoulders sag in relief when he hears my voice, but when I jog over to him and the porchlight hits me, tension creases his face.
“What happened?” he asks, rushing to meet me.
Footsteps sound on the porch steps and then my mom gasps.
Maybe Becks was right about getting cleaned up first.
“Honey, are you all right?” my mom asks, cupping my face as her eyes dart over the blood and dirt smeared there.
“Come on. Let’s get her inside,” my dad says as he slings an arm over my shoulder and tucks me into his side.
He starts steering me toward the front door, then Becks clears his throat. I’d almost forgotten about him. Both parents immediately tense and jerk in his direction as Becks steps into the light.
Dropping his arm, my dad maneuvers in front of my mom and me. “Who are you?” he demands.
“A friend,” Becks answers, which is a stretch. “Your daughter is in danger. I need to take her—”
“The hell you will,” my father bellows, and I wince. “I don’t know who you are, but I want you off my property and away from my daughter.”
“Listen, I don’t know how much time we have. If we could all just go inside, I can explain everything.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you in my house,” my dad erupts.
Neither of my parents have magic, but I imagine if my dad did, shadows or flames or faelight would be pouring out of him and directed at Becks right now.
Even though with his size and magic, Becks has the upper hand, he still backs up when my dad takes an aggressive step forward.
“If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the police.”
“Dad, wait. It’s okay. He actually saved me and gave me this.” I hold up the gun I’m still clutching.
My mom’s eyes bug out and my dad lets out a curse I’ve never heard from him until now. Before I realize what he’s doing, he snatches the weapon from my hand. Flipping a switch on the side I hadn’t even noticed, he directs the gun at Becks. His aim is steady.
Becks immediately puts his hands up in front of him, looking far more uneasy than he did when I handled the gun.
“I’m not your enemy,” he says, frustration clear on his face.
“I don’t care who or what you are,” my dad says, his voice cold as ice. “All I know is that my daughter came home tonight battered and bleeding, and you’re the only one with her. I want you gone. Or I will use this.”
“I have something to show you, and if you want me to leave after that, I will. I promise.”
My dad doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t lower the gun either. I’m nervous because I honestly don’t know whether or not he’d shoot Becks, but Becks takes the pause as the go-ahead to keep talking.
“I’m going to get my wallet from my back pocket. Slowly,” he says, and starts to reach behind him when my dad snaps at him to stop.
He freezes.
“Turn around,” my dad orders, and after a beat, Becks obeys.
“Haven, go get his wallet,” he tells me.
Going over to Becks, I grab the wallet, making a point not to check out what I’m sure is a very nice backside as I do.
When I’ve shuffled back next to my dad, he tells Becks he can turn around.
I have his wallet in my hands, but I don’t know what to do with it. It’s a typical two-fold black leather wallet. It looks like there’s a cash compartment and card slots, but I’m not about to just go through it with him standing there watching. That would be weird.
Becks takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself for something. “There’s a picture in the billfold,” he says, nodding for me to take it out.
I flip through the wallet, finding only a single credit card in one of the sleeves and what looks like a folded picture in the cash compartment. There’s not even a driver’s license.
Pulling out the photo, I glance up at him before looking at it.
“Open it,” he says.
With trepidation crawling up my spine, I unfold the picture. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up to what I’m seeing.
It’s a faded picture of Becks, a pretty tall blonde girl . . . and me?
I gasp and snap my questioning gaze up to Becks.
“Look again,” he says.
I study the shorter figure. We have the same build and generally the same type of features, but enough details are off—her hair doesn’t have as much red as mine does, her eyes have a slight downward tilt that mine don’t—that I realize it’s not actually me in the picture. Just someone who looks eerily similar.
I don’t hear my mom shuffle closer until she gasps and brings a hand up to cover her mouth.
“What is it?” my dad asks, his gaze shifting back and forth between Becks and us.
“He has a picture of Haven,” my mom blurts out.
My dad cocks the gun before I have a chance to correct her. “Why do you have a picture of my daughter in your wallet?”
“Wait, Dad,” I say, and rush in between him and Becks. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want to find out before my dad shoots him. “That’s not me.”
“Yes it is,” my mom insists. “And he has his arm around you.”
“Haven, step away,” my dad demands. The look on his face is one of determination. Determination to protect his family at all costs, and it scares me.
I shake my head and Becks speaks up behind me.
“I know it looks like her, but that’s not your daughter,” he says. “At least not this one.”
What?
I glance over my shoulder at him and his eyes, the greenest I’ve ever seen, connect with mine. And there’s an apology in them.
“That’s not you,” he says directly to me. “That’s Locklyn. My best friend. Your sister.”