“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I realize this is all kinda new for you,” she says. “I forget that sometimes.”
“How can you forget that?” I let out a snort.
“Well, you’re very smooth,” she says, giggling softly.
“I am?” I shake my head, trying to figure out how in the world she could think that when I’ve been acting like a drunken jester.
“Yes, you are.”
“Every time I get close to you, my heart beats faster; I do stupid shit like dropping flashlights, and I feel like an idiot.”
“Well, it doesn’t show.” Aerin chuckles again.
“Maybe your observation skills need some work.” I put my face in my hands, wondering why I even said something like that. “I didn’t mean that, either.”
After a long period of silence, I feel her hand on my arm.
“Talen, I think you are fabulous. I was impressed with your skills early on, but I thought you were probably an arrogant asshole. It became clear to me that you aren’t, and I started paying more attention to you. You’re smart. You’re hot, freaking awesome in bed, and amazingly sweet and kind. You’re generous and truly concerned about the people around you. I really like you, Talen, and I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. That opinion isn’t going to change.”
I look up at her and sit there, dumbfounded, processing her words and realizing I should respond in kind but I don’t know what to say. Finally, I blurt out, “I like you, too.”
Aerin presses her lips together, trying to hold back a laugh.
“You see? I am an idiot.” I start to put my face back in my hands, but she grabs my wrists and pulls them away.
“You aren’t,” she says. “You’re adorable.”
She places her lips on mine, and I open my mouth to find her tongue. I kiss her deeply, placing my hand on the back of her head. I lean forward, cradling her as I press her back to the ground, kissing her again, but she places her hand on my chest, halting my progress and denying me my wish.
“I want to hear the rest of the story first.”
I relent, release her, and she sits up next to me with her hand on my leg.
“Tell me about Havens.”
“Have you heard much about it?”
“Only horror stories.”
“They were probably true.” I let out a deep breath. “When I was first taken there, I was put in solitary confinement. You might not think that’s torture, but it is. Eight months without seeing or speaking to a single person. The guards won’t speak to you. They just toss you your single meal a day and move on. They never let me out of a cell that wasn’t a lot bigger than this shaft, just a little taller. I could stand without my head touching the ceiling, but taller guys couldn’t have. A cot and a toilet were the only things in the room. No sink, no bedding. At the bottom of the door, there was a slot so they could shove food inside and another slot they could open and look in at you, but that one was almost always closed. A light on the wall just went on and off randomly. I never knew if it was day or night or how much time had passed. The only person who ever said a word to me was one of the guards. His name was Johnson, and he only spoke to me twice in all that time.”
“What did he say to you?”
“The first time, he told me to eat,” I say. “I’d gone without food for a couple of days, and he told me if I ever wanted out of there that I had to eat. The second time was right before I was moved out of solitary. He told me to hang on just a little longer. No one else ever spoke to me at all, not even when they brought me food or water. Aside from my own voice, I never heard anything at all.
“Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, but it was maddening. I think I did go a little crazy while I was in there. I know I wasn’t the same person when they let me out. At first, I thought I was hallucinating when they came to take me from my cell. I finally realized they were letting me into the general population area, which is the last thing they do before you’re executed. I was placed in a cell with another man, a murderer. He was executed a week later. After that, another murderer was placed with me. Serial killer, actually. He’d confessed to murdering eight women.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, he was a piece of work but ultimately useful, I guess.”
“Useful how?”
“He taught me how to knife fight.”
“That’s where you learned it? From a serial killer??