9. Adrian #2
I will feed her if it kills me. I will take care of her no matter what. That’s what husbands do, and maybe I’m not quite her husband yet. Way I see it, that’s just semantics. I’ll be her everything. She just has to let me.
I offer up the plate again. “Go on. Have some. I know you want to.”
She frowns. I’m beginning to think that maybe she doesn’t when, crouching slightly, she grabs a slice with trembling fingers. She darts away, bringing the piece of mango up to her mouth. A few nibbles as though she’s making sure it’s safe to eat, then it’s gone.
Finally.
I lift up the plate. With a little more certainty this time, she takes another slice.
I grin, beaming at her as she puts it to her lips. “That’s my girl.”
Haven chokes.
I don’t even think. Flinging the plate to the ground, I jump to my feet and reach her in two strides. I get close, patting her back in case she has a piece of mango caught in her throat.
She shies away from me, and I force myself to put some space between us once I’m sure she’s fine.
Okay… that could’ve gone better. Especially when her wide eyes are drawn to the knife I’m still holding.
Shit.
I tuck my hand behind me so I don’t frighten her any more. Crouching down, I clean up the spilled mango, dropping them on the plate.
“I’m going to get you some more,” I tell her. “You can come down and join me in the kitchen. Or you can stay up here. Your choice, sweetness.”
Her nose wrinkles, and she takes a step back, clutching the doorjamb. Taking that to mean she’s staying up here, I promise I’ll be right back, then head for the stairs.
I had every intention of going to the kitchen and grabbing Haven another mango; if she’s willing to eat it, I’ll slice up a hundred to feed her. However, just as I’m making my way down the hall that intersects the first floor of the house, there’s a knock at the door.
I freeze.
Who the fuck can that be? Since my parents moved out of the house and everyone in Harmony Heights knows it’s mine, I rarely have a visitor.
I especially don’t have any that I’m not expecting.
If it’s one of my bros, they’ll shoot me a ‘stopping by’ text to let me know they’re on their way.
Especially now that they know I have Haven with me, I’d definitely expect a call over a visit.
And yet, when I reverse course, loping over to the front door so I can peek through the peephole, I see a plume of smoke first, followed by a pair of pale green eyes peeking back at me, and I know exactly who’s out there.
I throw open the door.
Adrian removes his cigarette, tossing it to the gravel. He stamps it out with one of his expensive dress shoes before straightening his blood-red tie. Smoothing his hand through his sandy-colored hair, he jerks his chin over my shoulder.
“You gonna let me in?” he asks.
I don’t know if I should. Haven’s awake, but this is Adrian. How can I say no? Especially after he arranged for Dr. Lucas to come over earlier, plus his promise that he’ll keep the King too busy to realize Haven’s home again…
I toss the mango slices in front of me, leaving them for whatever wild animal lurking in the woods behind my house wants to scarf them down. Then, with a nod, I wave for Adrian to follow me inside.
He cocks his head.
I know exactly what he’s asking. I point over mine. “I put her in my bedroom,” I explain. “I was just going to get her something else to eat.”
“This won’t be long,” Adrian promises.
That’s good to hear.
“Let’s go to the living room,” I tell him. If Haven’s still in the hall, I don’t want her to hear a new voice and get scared all over again. “We can talk there.”
Adrian nods, following me as I turn right, heading toward the big living room.
That’s where I keep my oversized TV, my stuffed couch, and all the antique furniture left from all the times my mother used to have guests over.
I figured Haven might like it so I barely changed it once my parents moved out, and if she doesn’t?
I’ll let her redecorate to her heart’s desire once she accepts that this is her home.
As soon as we step inside, Adrian says, “How are things going? How was the doctor?”
There’s no way in hell that Dr. Lucas didn’t give Adrian at least a small update on her visit here today.
“She was good. She confirmed a couple of things I knew. Haven needed fluids and she got some. She probably dropped fifteen pounds while they had her so I have to help her eat. Two metatarsals were recently broken on her left foot… plus she’s fucking bruised enough that physical abuse is a definite.
” I swallow roughly. “Same with sexual abuse to some degree. Haven… they fucked her up, buddy. They fucked her up real bad.”
From his expression, I know that none of that is news to Adrian.
“Dr. Lucas recommends that she be hospitalized,” he says, and that’s not news to me.
That doesn’t mean I don’t try to argue—and he cuts my furious tirade off with a pointed look.
“I know. Trust me, Con, I know. Dr. Lucas says she believes that Haven’s physical injuries will heal in time.
It’s her mental state she’s worried about. ”
“How does she know about her mental state? Haven was sedated when the doc looked her over.”
Adrian gives me a look that says: exactly.
Okay. He has a point.
“She’ll be fine,” I tell him. “It’s been two days.
She was gone for six weeks. She just needs time.
She needs someone who understands. Someone who loves her.
I’ll take care of her, Adrian. I told you that when you dropped me off.
I’m telling you that now. And if anyone tries to take her from me, I’ll—”
I stop short. Did I… did I just hear footsteps on the stairs? I was so consumed with stopping Adrian from trying to talk me into letting Haven go—because I one hundred percent believe that’s what he’s up to—that I almost missed it.
But I didn’t.
I heard it.
Adrian didn’t. “You’ll what, Connor?”
I wave my hand, gesturing for him to shut the hell up. Then, tilting my head, I focus.
I listen.
Adrian brushes the sleeve of my shirt, trying to get my attention. “Hey. You doing okay?”
“I think I heard something.”
“Something? Or someone?”
I don’t know. I thought—
Creak.
Fuck!
That was the door.
The front door.
I’ve lived in this house for twenty-seven years.
I know which steps groan and how the front door creaks a little when you’re trying to be quiet.
When I used to sneak out to hang with my brothers, I always went out the back door until I realized my parents were too busy doing their own thing to give a shit what I was doing after hours.
No one in Harmony Heights would ever dare let themselves into a high-ranking Owed’s house without invitation, except for maybe the King. Even the normies—those who live outside of the secret society—wouldn’t dare when they notice the Order’s logo branded into my mailbox at the end of the drive.
But what if there’s a frightened, traumatized Offering living in my house who doesn’t understand that this is a permanent move? Who might not realize how devoted to her I am, and how I’m here to do everything to help her get past what happened?
Leaving Adrian in the living room, I burst into the hall in time to see Haven standing in front of the open door. Her head swivels toward me, eyes wide in fright as she sees me suddenly appear to catch her latest escape attempt.
She gasps, and then she’s gone. Wearing nothing but the same old lacrosse shirt that I laid out for her yesterday because I’m an obsessive, possessive bastard who always dreamed of seeing her with my name printed across the back of her shoulders, she flees out into the night.
I don’t even hesitate before I’m running right after her.