8. What #3
He steps out of the kitchen. This time, I’m not letting a golden opportunity slip me by.
I push myself to my feet, push away from the table, and trip my way out into the hall.
None of this is making any sense to me, but it doesn’t have to.
Once I’m away from Connor, I can breathe—I can think—and maybe I’ll even be able to find my voice again.
He can’t keep me here. He rescued me. He’s just feeling responsible for me because, of the Heirs, he was the one who ended up finding me on the floor of the warehouse first. That’s what this is.
It’s what it has to be.
Once again, he’s quicker than I am. Connor meets me before I make it halfway down the hall. I freeze, and he takes the chance to place a fuzzy blue blanket around my shoulders before tucking me into his side and bringing me back to the kitchen.
I don’t resist. It doesn’t even occur to me to try until I’m back in the seat, and Connor’s picked up the injection again.
“Where was I?” he asks, and at this point, he knows better than to expect me to answer him.
He presses the syringe, sending a small stream of liquid shooting out of it.
His eyes brighten. “Right. I remember. Now this,” he adds, turning the needle my way so I can’t miss how sharp it looks.
“When you disappeared, I didn’t take it too well.
I went a little… mm… crazy.” His lips twitch, curving upward once more in a charming grin, but his eyes…
those suckers are dead serious. “Adrian got me hooked on these.”
Hooked? I furrow my brow, sure that my earlier suspicion that it’s some sort of hard drug is true.
Can he tell? I didn’t say a word, and yet…
“I’m not an addict, Haven. Not really.” Connor shrugs. “Not unless you count how I addicted I am to you.”
I don’t get it. I don’t understand.
“I know, I know. I’m throwing too much at you too soon.
I only just got you back, and I should be wary of what you’ve been through.
I am. But I also need you to understand that I can’t risk anything like that happening to you again.
If that means I keep you with me for the rest of your life so I know you’re protected, I will.
Because I love you, Haven, and I’m done pretending like I haven’t been in love with you for as long as I can remember. ”
Love me… love me, I can handle. Sometimes my feelings for Connor ranged between love and hate, too. But in love with me?
No way. No fucking way.
My heart slams against my ribs. My head aches, a sudden throb that does nothing to convince me that I didn’t hear what I definitely did hear. Even so, Connor keeps talking as though he didn’t just turn my world upside-down with his last off-handed comment.
Oh, no. Instead, he keeps dropping bomb after bomb…
“I couldn’t sleep. For the first four days after you disappeared, I was awake nonstop.
If you ask Bas, I went a little fucked-up in the head.
Adrian would tell you that he understood—but he’s also the one who arranged for me to talk to this Order doctor.
” His gaze drops briefly to the syringe before returning to me.
“See what you did to me, baby? Anxiety-induced insomnia bordering on mania, with a touch of sleep-deprived psychosis. A little night-night drug to put me under was probably the best thing for all of Harmony Heights. But don’t worry, Haven.
I never slept long enough that I forgot about you. ”
Night-night drug… so that’s what it is. A sedative? Maybe. And if he’s gone a little loony right now, maybe he’s going to use it—and then I can get the hell out of here while I can.
But then Connor moves until he’s standing right next to me. With his free hand, he tucks his pointer finger under my chin, tilting my head up, forcing me to see the determination written on his handsome face.
“I love you,” he says simply, as though repeating it will make me somehow believe him.
“It kills me to see you scared. To have you look at me like I’m one of those fuckers.
It’s too soon. I know that. You need to eat.
You need to rest. You need to be calm so that you listen to what I’m saying and understand that I… I’m here to help you.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he continues. “Do fuck all to me, I don’t care. But I can see it. You’re going to get hurt, and I won’t let that happen. You’ll see. We’ll try again later, okay?”
Try again— what?
With one breath, he strokes the underside of my chin with his finger. In the next? He releases me, grabbing my arm before I had any fucking idea that he was going to move.
I’m too slow to react; even if I wasn’t, I don’t think it would’ve done any good. Pinning my arm down, he jabs the needle into it. I gasp as it pinches my skin, belatedly thrashing as I realize that he’s giving me the sedative.
Once he has, he withdraws the needle, tossing the spent syringe onto the table. I’m already slumping a little, falling into his waiting arms as I glare up at him through the fringe of my eyelashes.
Connor brushes his lips across the top of my hair. “Sleep tight, my love. Don’t worry. When you wake up tomorrow, I’ll be right there waiting for you.”
Of course he will. Because, without me realizing it at first, I somehow traded one captor for another…