Once I had, I checked my phone. The cameras revealed that Haven was up again, sitting in the main part of the basement,reading a book. Since I had two missed calls—one from Dallas, one from Adrian—I decided to check in with them before heading downstairs to start an early dinner for Haven.
Everything seemed fine. I cooked a chicken and rice dish that she constantly ordered as take-out; when I noticed it was a favorite of hers, it’s one of the first recipes I taught myself to cook. The surprise on her face when she tasted it before digging in… I was on cloud fucking nine.
She even let me sit on the couch with her while she watched a movie. I could almost pretend that I was watching it with her instead of watching her take it in, and by the time she seemed to be yawning, getting sleepy even though she took the hour nap earlier… I really thought we were having a great evening together.
I had no idea that my sneaky sweetheart was lulling me into a false sense of security until it was way too late.
I’d had a day myself. Deciding that it was time to head upstairs so that Haven would get ready for bed—and then I could sneak down here again to be close to her—I blew her a kiss, told her I’d see her in the morning, then started up the stairs.
After that, all hell basically breaks loose.
I didn’t hear her on the stairs. I’ll swear that. She must’ve gotten up, tiptoed behind me, and followed me up as quiet as a mouse because I had no idea that she was there—until she uses my own pocketknife to jab me in the ass.
Seriously.
She actuallystabsme in theass.
SIXTEEN
ESCAPE
CONNOR
It’s a poke with the blade, through my jeans, into the meat of my ass cheek, in and out again. I yelp—because what else could I fucking do—and spin on the top stair just in time to see her hold upmyknife slick withmyblood on it.
For a split second, I see the expression on her face—determination mingled with fear—and all I can think is: how did she get my knife? If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Haven’s no pickpocket. Trust me. I would’ve known if she shoved her hand in my pocket to steal it… only she didn’t have to. My dumb ass left the knife on the drying mat earlier, completely forgetting to put it away after my shower.
And Haven must’ve pocketed it because I sure as hell don’t remember seeing it there while I was cooking dinner and cleaning up.
I want the knife. I don’t care that she stabbed me, but my knife… I want it, and I reach for it.
That was my mistake. I lunge for Haven, and she shoves. That’s all it takes. A single shove from Haven as I turn toward her on the narrow stair and, suddenly, I’m tumbling down them.
When I’m downstairs with Haven, I don’t bother locking us in. There’s no point. If she tries to escape while I’m right fucking there, I’d stop her. Kind of hard to do that, though, when I’m flipping ass over end down fifteen stairs before landing in a pile on the cement floor.
My ass is bleeding, but she didn’t stick me deep enough to do much damage. I took a couple of hard knocks during my fall, but after a few stunned seconds while I try to figure out what the hell just happened, I realize that I left her at the top of the stairs—and the basement door isopen.
Shit.
I hurry to my feet. The thought of losing Haven, of her somehow getting away from me… that’s so much worse than any injuries I might’ve sustained. My back’s okay. My head’s clear. I don’t have any broken legs which is a good thing because I immediately start bolting up the stairs as fast as I can.
She has a head start. More of one than I’d like to admit, but Haven Smith has always been a creature of habit. Whether it’s ordering from the same restaurants, having the same volunteer shifts down at the animal shelter, or going to the same stores… I didn’t have to be the world’s greatest stalker to get her habits down pat.
Every time she tries to escape, she goes for the front door. Tonight’s no different. When I burst out of the basement, running down the hall, I feel a pang to see that the door’s wide open. Ignoring the mild yet throbbing pain in my ass cheek, I pour on the speed, running out into the night.
Just to be sure, I whip my head to the left to see if she booked it down the gravel drive. Nope. Last time, she tried to run into the woods and hide, only she stumbled before she could. I’m not banking on her stumbling this time. She’s been eating and sleeping and, damn it,planningfor something like this. I’ll findher—Ihaveto—but Haven… she’s not going to make it easy for me.
I need to rattle her. I need her to understand that I’m coming for her, and hope that that’s enough to get her to stumble or slow or give me some clue to where she ran off to.
I wait until I’ve dashed into the trees surrounding my property. Hoping that she ran straight ahead, I take the same path while calling out to her.
“Haven?” My voice echoes through the still night air. “I won’t let you hide from me, Haven. Never again.”
I pause, listening. A crackling sound comes from my left. Branches and twigs snapping under her running feet… that way. She went that way.
I veer in that direction. “There’s no escaping me, Haven. Run if you like. You won’t get far, I promise you that. You’remineand always have been.”
Where is she? I have to find her. I have to?—