HUSBAND WHO, PART II
CONNOR
I’ve gotta say, over the years, I’ve killed my fair share of assholes.
Most of them were for Haven, and I don’t regret a single measure I took to make my wife feel safe.
There was a time when I hid my murderous side from her, sure that it would give her another reason to run.
Eventually, the truth came out, and the funny thing is that Haven has never really seemed particularly bothered by the fact that her husband has blood on his hands.
By the time I got my third kill when I used my pocketknife to slit the throat of the man responsible for the death of Dallas’s mom, Reese, right in front of his daughter, my wife barely reacted to learn that I did.
I just walked into the kitchen, wiping the blood from my blade, casually telling her that she should probably avoid the living room until I have a second to dispose of the body.
She just asked if our guest was okay, or if she needed to check in on Lucy herself.
That’s my girl. Despite all the shit she’s gone through, she sees a kindred spirit in Dallas’s Lucy.
She was able to look past her own trauma to help Lucy with hers, and now, months later, she counts Lucy as one of her friends.
They text and, sometimes when Dallas needs to take care of business, she’ll even come over to hang with us while we’re all real careful not to refer to it as a babysitting gig.
I’m still Haven’s best friend, though. Just saying.
Point is, there isn’t anything I won’t do for Haven, and in the more than two years since I rescued her, she’s grown to both understand that and accept that as part of my unique love language.
I’ll kill for her. I’ll die for her if she asks it of me.
I’ll sacrifice anything and everything for her, and I’ll give her everything she desires—except the freedom she once fought for desperately.
Luckily for us both, she doesn’t want it anymore.
These days, to even suggest that she leave me is to send Haven spiraling, suffering from a panic attack so strong, she needs to be sedated.
I’ve assured her countless times that I’m not going anywhere and neither is she, and whenever she doubts it, I take her hand, kiss her wedding band, and call her my ‘sweetheart’ once the sedatives wear off.
She’s mine, like I always knew she would be. I’m hers, like I always told her I was. We’re happy, and we won’t let a little thing like bloodshed and murder stand in the way of our forever.
Which is why, one ordinary Wednesday evening, I’m a little surprised to see Dallas at the front door of our home, wearing a careful expression while asking to be let inside.
Haven was watching television in the living room.
I had been, too, but since we weren’t expecting any company, I left her on the couch so that I could see who was ringing the doorbell.
I keep meaning to look into the doorbells with the camera that pop up on your phone, but when no one really bothers us on the edge of Harmony Heights, I haven’t bothered yet.
Besides, it’s either Adrian dropping off Loni to spend some ‘girl time’ with Haven, Sebastien and his wife, Annaliese, coming to share dinner with Haven and me, Dallas bringing Lucy by, or a combination of any of the three pairs.
Sure, Haven absolutely refuses to let Adrian step foot into our house even after all this time, but everyone else is—sometimes begrudgingly—welcome at our door.
When I find Dallas standing on the front porch, I peek behind him to see if Lucy is waiting in his shiny black truck.
There’s no sign of her, and I give Dallas a questioning look.
These days, he’s as obsessed with his wife as the rest of us—understandable after what they went through—and I can’t remember the last time he stopped by without her.
And then he jerks his chin, gesturing behind me. “Can I come in and talk for a second?”
Even when Dallas was King, he never pulled rank on me or any of his bros.
He could’ve easily demanded my obedience and, after a lifetime of friendship, he would’ve had it.
But Dallas… head of the Order or, now, the enforcer for the replacement King, Dallas has always commanded my respect by asking instead of expecting anything of me.
I step aside, inviting him in with a grin. “Of course, Dal. You know you’re welcome here.”
It wasn’t that long ago that he wasn’t. Haven held a grudge against Dallas for the sole crime of his being Jack Collins’s son and Adrian Heller’s cousin.
She gave up on that over time, though she was wary when Dallas was acting as the King.
Since he basically stepped down, passing the role over to Adrian, Haven doesn’t mind Dallas in any part of her sanctuary—when she’s expecting him.
Since Dallas always brings Lucy, it’s easy to keep Haven from getting riled up by distracting her with Dallas’s wife. But Lucy isn’t here, and Haven is waiting for me to go back to the horror film we were watching together.
Hey. Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than watching idiot teenagers get killed while pointing out ways we would’ve avoided the unhinged killer ourselves…
One look at Dallas, though? His expression is shut down, and there’s a hard set to his stubble-covered jaw that tells me he came here for a reason, and that I’m not gonna be a big fan of what that is.
I point down the hall. “Why don’t you head into the kitchen? I’ll let Haven know you’re here.”
Dallas’s hand lands on my upper arm. “I’d rather we have this discussion without Haven.”
Now, that has my attention. Naturally, anything Dallas tells me, I’ll share with my wife… unless it’ll hurt her. No fucking way will I hurt Haven on purpose, and Dallas knows that. He knows that which means, yeah… I’m definitely not gonna like this conversation, am I?
“Gotcha, buddy. I’m just gonna let her know we need to chat, and that she can either wait ‘til I’m done to watch the movie with her or she can go ahead without me. Then I’ll be right back. Sound okay?”
Dallas nods. “Yeah. Kitchen, you said?”
I return Dallas’s nod. He squeezes my arm, then heads to the kitchen. I wait until he disappears down that end of the hall before I rejoin Haven in the living room.
She’s quiet, as always, as I explain that Dallas is here and that he needs to talk to me.
Understanding intuitively that this has to be Order biz, and that she wants nothing to do with it, she turns the television off with the remote, promises we can finish the movie later, and says she’ll be upstairs in our bedroom until he’s gone.
I’d rather follow my wife up there, but I just manage to resist the urge to chase at her heels like a puppy dog.
For so long, Dallas ran interference between his old man and me, making sure Jack never tried to separate me and Haven after he discovered I had the Offering in my keeping.
It couldn’t have been easy, though Dallas never complained, and until I die, I owe him for that the same way as I owe my other brothers for all they’ve done for Haven and me over the years.
I grab Haven by the hand, tug her to me, and kiss her quickly.
She pats my cheek with her other hand, slips out of my hold, then leaves the room.
She’s already halfway to the stairs by the time I chase her out of the living room, and with a sigh, I leave her alone so that I can go to Dallas and see what it is that he wants.
I meet Dallas in the kitchen where he’s leaning against the counter rather than taking a seat at the small table. The second I walk into the room, he holds out his hand.
“What?”
“Your pocketknife,” he says. “Give it to me.”
I’m already taking the folded-up knife out of my pocket even as I ask, “What the fuck happened to yours that you need mine?”
I gave all four of my brothers the matching pocketknife to mine as a graduation present, right before we were inducted into the Order of the Owed.
Des never used his. Adrian tucked his away in that creepy memento box he doesn’t think I know about, the one where he’s kept a pair of Loni’s panties from our high school days.
I know Bas used to carry his on him until he gave it to Annaliese—and that worked out well since she had to rely on it to kill an intruder to the house she shares with Bas.
Dallas should still have his since I know he keeps it in his jeans pocket along with a gun in his ankle holster, but if he needs mine, I’ll let him borrow it.
But then Dallas says, “I’ve got mine where I usually keep it but that’s not the issue,” and I’m suddenly very intrigued.
I toss the knife into the air, catching it in my palm. “Then what’s the issue?”
“That I don’t want you having access to it after I tell you what I found out this afternoon.”
Intriguing. “I guess I’m not gonna like it.”
He holds out his hand again. “You guessed right. Now, knife.”
If it makes him happy… I drop the knife into his waiting palm.
“Thanks. Okay. Shit. Maybe we should sit down.”
This is getting a little ridiculous. “Dal. Seriously? I’m not gonna stab you.
I mean, unless you came over to try and tell me my marriage to Haven is null and void, and that Adrian’s gone batshit crazy and decided that, as King, he can somehow take my wife from me, I promise we’ll be good.
What’s up? What do you have to tell me that’s so important you left Lucy at home, drove all the way over, and are now staring at me with such a pinched face, it looks like you sucked on a lemon? ”
Dallas’s scowl doesn’t help the pinched face at all. “It’s about Jack.”
Since Jack Collins’s very deserved death, Dallas rarely refers to the man as his father.
He’s usually just ‘Jack’ if he talks about him at all, and he makes it a point not to if he can help it.
All of us hate the former King, not only because of how he screwed over the Order and Harmony Heights in so many ways, but mostly because of the damage he did to his own son.