Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I went to get in the backseat with Ream, but Haven pulled me back and pressed the keys into my hand. I looked up at her confused.
“I don’t know how to drive,” she stated, and then she went in the back seat with Ream and slammed the door.
I started driving; although I had no idea where we were and the car was really old and didn’t have GPS. But Haven directed me to the highway, and after we passed the first sign, I knew where we were and pressed my foot down on the pedal.
The hospital wasn’t that far away. I started to take the exit ramp that had the blue sign with the big H. A hand clamped down on my shoulder. “No hospital.”
“But—”
I looked at her face in the rearview mirror and she shook her head. “No. I just blew up a house … killed Alexa, and two men. Olaf. That filthy lowlife is still alive. If we go to the hospital and there is a report … he’ll find out we’re alive. Our best hope is he thinks we all died in that blaze.”
“Okay.” Holy shit. There was no question this Olaf would look into what happened. “Okay, we’ll go to the farm.”
I saw her nod and then she leaned back in the seat, Ream’s head in her lap. For a second when I looked in the mirror, I saw the cold, hard expression in her face falter when she looked down at him. I had a feeling the sister Ream once knew had died in that hospital and this woman … the one who didn’t even flinch when she killed three people … she wasn’t his little angel anymore.
We arrived at the farm and I honked the horn all the way up the driveway. By the time I pulled the car to a stop, Logan, Emily, Crisis, and Kite were all there. No questions were asked as to who Haven was or what happened or where I’d been for nearly two days. I don’t think words were necessary when they saw Ream’s back.
Logan and Kite lifted him out of the car while Emily pulled me into a crushing hug.
“When Georgie showed up at the gallery and you weren’t there … Then Ream disappeared … Georgie finally got a hold of Deck. He’s on a flight here now.” Emily’s tears soaked into Ream’s shirt I was still wearing.
“Ream. I need to see Ream.” I didn’t want to talk about anything right now; all I wanted to do was hold Ream.
Emily pulled away. “Yeah. Oh my God, yeah.”
We started to walk to the house when a car door shut. Haven. Shit.
She was leaning against the side of the car, her body stiff and unyielding, blood all over her white dress. She held the gun clenched in her hand at her side, eyes narrowed on Crisis who stood in front of her staring.
“Fuck, you’re his twin. You’re Haven.”
Crisis knew about her? I waited for her reaction, if she was going to give any at all. Her piercing gray eyes met Crisis’s and she stared at him.
Then her rigid expression wavered, the gun fell from her grasp, and she collapsed to the ground.
***
Two months later
“Baby, get your ass over here.” Ream had the frayed yellow rope in his hand.
I rolled my eyes then cocked my hip and placed my hand on it. “Pumpkin.” He hated when I called him that. “I’m not doing it. Told you that. But you can come over here and kiss my ass.”
Ream laughed. It was a real laugh, one that started deep in the stomach and went all the way up through the chest with a deep vibration. I bit my bottom lip as I watched, wanting to say screw this and run back to the cottage while everyone was here and have him do more than kiss my ass.
“He looks … relaxed,” Emily leaned into me and whispered. “There was always something in him that was … I don’t know, sad and dark. I could never put my finger on it.” Emily nodded to Haven who was leaning up against a tree, arms crossed and staring off into the distance. She hadn’t wanted to come with us, but Ream told her if she didn’t come, then he was staying and if he stayed no one could go. She came. “That girl is seriously hurting.”
I nodded. She’d woken up three days after she collapsed in the driveway. Deck found us a doctor willing to keep quiet—with cash of course. There’d been nothing wrong with her—exhaustion. Ream on the other hand had weeks of bandage changes and two rounds of antibiotics.
Like me, he’d live with the scars of Alexa and her madness, but it only made us stronger. She would’ve been pissed to know that.
“I can’t get her to talk. Ream’s tried so many times but she just … it’s like she’s staring right through him, not even taking in what he’s saying.” Ream had that look once, and now I knew where it came from. He’d told me from the beginning he had a fucked-up past; well, fucked-up didn’t even begin to describe it.
“I’m sure the therapist I saw would be happy to see her. She was really nice, didn’t push me—much.”
I nodded. But I suspected Haven wouldn’t take any help offered. Maybe not for a long time … if ever.
Logan and Emily had moved into their new place, a ten acre “fuck-nest” as Crisis liked to call it. It was quaint with an old eighteenth century house up on a hill overlooking a pond. It was also far from the road and had iron gates across the driveway. Logan had a security system put in, top of the line with cameras around the property. Emily came home last week with a German Shepherd puppy to which Logan said “no way.” The puppy was named Tear. Emily said he was named after the band. Logan said it was because the dog tears everything to pieces. Tear was at the farm with Hank while we were here.