I nod, and he curses my father. “That’s okay. That’s okay. I said you’d be safe with me. With us, didn’t I? I promised that to you. Promised that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. I broke that promise, baby girl, when I let you come back here to him. But I will not break it again. You hear me?”

The lock clicks right at that moment, and I look down in surprise, my vision blurry with tears. “Don’t cry, Haven. Please. Breaks my heart when you do. Jesus, Jude, stop shouting in my ear. She’s gonna be just fine as soon as you-”

He cuts off when the light on the sensor dims and in the next moment the window is open, letting in a burst of fresh air into the musty room, along with his petrichor scent. His arms slide around me, his body curling over mine protectively as I bury my face in his black shirt, taking heaving inhales of his scent between sobs.

His cheek brushes over the top of my head, rubbing back and forth, leaving his scent all over me. And for the first time since I left the Calloway pack house, I feel relatively at ease. My alpha is here and he’ll take care of me, just like he said he would. Everything is going to be okay.

Creed whispers reassurances into my hair, uncaring that I haven’t washed it in days. He hugs me tighter against him when that realization only makes my tears flow hotter and faster. I have no idea how long he holds me for. It feels like forever and also like not enough time. With every hiccup or sob he strokes my back, my hair, strong fingers knead into tense muscles and knots, slowly but surely bringing calm.

When my sobs have died down to just trembling sighs, his arms around me tighten. “Can you come with me?” Creed asks softly against my hair. “Did he tell you you couldn’t? Do I have to kidnap you? Because I will, baby girl, I fucking will.”

I let out a shuddering breath, my fingers tight in the fabric of his shirt, and think about leaving with Creed, slipping out the window and returning to their pack house. There isn’t an immediate rejection of the idea, not like there had been when I’d considered pushing through the command to go to them. That had left me feeling sick, shaking, so weak I couldn’t take a single step toward the door.

Now, though… There’s none of that. Nothing. Just the desperate urge to get away. I nod hesitantly, and he pulls back. “Yes, I have to kidnap you?” I shake my head, then grunt in frustration. My mind flicking over the command to not speak to them. My father had demanded no talking or texting… but paper and pen aren’t really a text, right?

Only one way to find out.

When I go to pull away from him, his arms tighten the slightest bit, but I persist and eventually he lets me go. I slide my fingers between his and tug him over to my desk, where I pick up my most recent journal and flip to an empty page in the back.

He told me I couldn’t go to you, not that I couldn’t go with you.

He blows out a breath and tightens his fingers around mine. “Fuck. That’s good, baby. So good.” He glances around.“Pack anything you can’t live without, okay? Anything you don’t want to leave behind.”

My brow wrinkles and I follow his gaze, taking in the room that is mine, but has never felt like it. There’s not one spark of myself in the space. While I was at AOA, my father had a decorator tear out any part of the room that was mine and replace it with this. Something that resembles more of a hotel room than a personal space.

After a moment, I hurry to the closet and pull out a bag, then carry it to the bookshelf with my journals. Creed comes over and helps me stack them neatly in the bag. I add the picture of me and Florence from the academy, the only photo I have of my mother. Creed watches as I scoop up BunBun and put him on top of the journals, then zip the bag.

He arches his brows. “That’s it?”

I hesitate then, return to the closet and pack a few items of clothing. Nothing that I truly want, but more so I have something to wear. I don’t expect them to provide clothing for me.

“What about your birthday presents?” Creed asks when I return.

I scoop up the notebook and write my response.

They’re at Wren’s. My father wouldn’t have let me keep them here.

“Motherfucking fuck,” Creed curses under his breath. My mouth twitches into a half smile at him cursing my father. Honestly, it lightens my heart knowing someone out there dislikes him as much as I do.

Creed grins at me when he notices. The tip of his finger brushes the corner of my mouth, before he grips my chin and tilts my face for a quick kiss. “Nothing else, baby girl? Because I can promise you, you won’t be coming back here. Not for anything.”

Hearing those words, absorbing them, makes tears form in my eyes. No one’s ever cared enough to help me. No one’s ever looked at my situation and seen it for what it is: abusive as hell. No one but Florence. Instead, everyone sees my charming father, a devoted single dad who is working toward making the lives of everyone in his city, his state, better.

“Don’t cry, Haven. Please. It’s going to be okay now. We’ve got you.”

Chapter 21: Not on my fucking watch

The only thing Haven brings with her are her journals, her laptop, the worn stuffed bunny and the bare minimum of clothes. Especially after I tell her we’ll get her anything she needs.

I shoulder the bag and lace my fingers through hers, guiding her over to the window I came in through. My hands on her hips hold her steady as she scrambles onto the roof of the porch, then she reaches through to help pull me out. Unnecessary but adorable.

My girl eyes the drop, her teeth sunk into that plush bottom lip of hers and I can read the trepidation on her face. But there is no way in hell I’m not getting her out of this house and away from her father. Not when I can still see the fading bruises on her face, when I can tell she’s in pain by the way she moves.

“I’ll go first,” I tell her, cupping her face in my hands, making sure she sees the promise in my eyes. “Then all you have to do is jump and I’ll catch you. I won’t let you fall.”

Her jaw stiffens with determination, and she nods once. “Good girl.” I don’t give her a chance to second guess it, dropping onto my belly and sliding my legs over the open air. I grip the edge and lower myself down. The drop is only about five feet once I’m dangling. Easy peasey.

“Okay, baby girl, your turn,” I whisper-shout up at her. She peeks over the edge at me, checking my location, no doubt. But then she disappears. I’d expected her to just jump right into my waiting arms. But she doesn’t. In fact, she’s gone for so long that I worry she’s changed her mind. But then her little bare feet pop over the edge and it’s at this point that I realize we should have gotten her shoes. No matter. I’ll carry her all the way to the car.