I mean, out of all the girls in this school, why her? Why Stacia? Surely there’s someone else he could play the white knight for…
But just after thinking it, the reason becomes clear. And I watch as she ducks out of class, makes her way down the hall, head lowered, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed on a distant point just in front of her, not daring to risk any accidental eye contact with her tormentors, as she cowers against their onslaught of hate—the slew of harsh words, cruel looks, and the occasi
onal water bottle aimed at her head.
And even though my mind hates the fact that he’s the only one who can protect her, my heart knows I have nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
“As it just so happens, she needs protecting more than anyone else,” Damen says, nodding toward the scene I just witnessed. “A lot’s changed since you were last here. The whole school’s turned against her. And even though you may think she deserves it, trust me, no one deserves that, no one deserves what Haven’s put her through.”
I nod, knowing it’s true, wanting him to know that I know it’s true, but unable to actually voice the words. It hurts too much to speak.
“But, Ever.” He pauses, gaze holding mine. “I’m merely looking after her here at school, nothing more. It’s not at all what you think, or what you might fear. It’s always been you. I thought you knew that.”
“I do know that,” I say, finally finding my voice again. “But does she?” I cringe at the statement, hating the sound of it, the weak, disgusting, totally embarrassing sound of it. Still, it’s not like I can’t see the way she gazes at him. Same way she always gazes at him. Same way most girls gaze at him. The only difference is, with Stacia, there’s history.
“She does.” His face is grave, his eyes never once straying from mine as his hands hang open, loose by his sides. “Trust me, I’ve told her. She knows.”
I swallow hard and study those hands, remembering all of the wonderful things that they’re capable of and longing to feel them again. Knowing from the way they tremble ever so slightly that it’s taking every last ounce of his strength to stay right where he is, rooted in place. That all I have to do to bridge the terrible chasm gaping between us is take one step toward him—one step away from the past, Stacia, and everything else.
If only it were that easy.
While I know our past lives don’t define us, I still can’t make peace with some of the more undeniable facts. Like his penchant for pulling me away from my loved ones so that he can have me all to himself—having done so twice that I know of. And I can’t help but wonder how many other times he’s resorted to that, and how many people have suffered because of it.
The bell rings, the sound trilling loudly, but neither one of us moves.
We just stand there together, allowing a scurry of students to move all around in a blur of color and sound. Our gazes locked, bodies still, his mind streaming tulips toward me until I’m surrounded by a glorious halo of them only we can see.
The spell broken when someone bumps into me—hard—one of Haven’s minions who’s severely misjudged me. Tossing me a belligerent gaze and a few choice words to go with it, until she reads the look on Damen’s face and swiftly cowers away.
“I understand.” I nod, watching as a wadded-up piece of paper bounces off the side of Stacia’s head as she ducks into class. My gaze shifting from her to him when I add, “Really, I get it. It’s good of you. Kind of you. It’s the right thing to do. So don’t worry about me, you just continue to protect her, and I’ll…” I search the hall, watching it empty as everyone races to beat the tardy bell. “And I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting any worse—to keep Haven under control.”
“And us? Is there any hope for us?” he asks.
But I leave the words behind.
His thoughts drifting from behind me, around me, curling up inside me, as I turn and make my way down the hall.
Reminding me that he’s here.
Will always be here.
All I have to do is let him in.
twenty-one
I figured she’d try to avoid me ’til lunch.
Figured she’d want to hold off on any sort of confrontation until she had her groupies all gathered around her and she could show me the full brunt of the big, bad thing she’s achieved.
Figured she mistook my weeklong absence, my wanting to get my head straight about Damen, for fear.
Fear of her and all she’s accomplished.
Which is exactly why I made sure to run into her well before that.
Appearing by her side without warning, I slide up alongside her, tap her on the shoulder, and stare straight into her heavily made-up, slightly startled eyes, saying, “Hey, Haven.” I keep my expression benign, if not outright friendly. Wanting her to know that I’m back, that it’s time for her to rein it in, but not wanting to challenge her directly, since nothing good will come of that. “Just thought you should know that your car has been moved. I needed the space.”
She looks at me, mouth curling up at one side, obviously far more amused than mad, ridiculously delighted to know the game is still on.