Page 73 of Redeemed

My hand is wrapped around her throat before I’ve made a conscious decision to do so. I squeeze gently, just enough to make her eyes widen with fear. With my other hand, I pluck the alcohol wipe from her grasp.

“I don’t think so.”

“God, you’re so—”

My grip around her throat tightens. “Shut up. I’m sick of having to listen to your voice.”

Her jaw drops, and god, I love the look of fury that takes over her face. She’s shocked enough that she obeys, and I take it as a preview of what’s to come.

Quietly, Haven lowers her gaze. At first, I think she’s watching me as I dab at the scrapes on her knees, but then I realize her eyes are fixed on the star tattoo on my wrist.

Out of all my tattoos, it’s the only one I regret. Don’t know why I haven’t bothered to cover it up yet.

Once Haven’s knees are clean, I bandage them and move on to her hands. They aren’t too bad—probably won’t even need covered up by morning—but I want her to get a good start on the healing process.

Haven winces as the alcohol stings her cuts, but she doesn’t pull away. I frown when I realize she’s shaking. That man, whoever he is, scared her real good. When she was begging me to help her after I almost ran her over, I recognized the fear in her eyes. It was the same kind that would overtake her when she’d have panic attacks from cult flashbacks.

During our two months of friendship, I helped her through countless attacks. So did Luc and Xan. She never told us that her panic attacks were triggered by things that reminded her of that cult. In fact, she usually lied and said that wasn’t the case. There wasn’t a single time we believed her. It was too obvious, and she’d always start mumbling the same thing.

Can’t go back, can’t go back, can’t go back.

It’s what made me decide to help her. Either that man is from the cult she escaped, or he reminded her of someone from back home enough to set her off. I fucking hate her, but I’d never harm her physically, and I’d never let someone else hurt her.

Even now, the little bitch somehow has me on a short leash, and she doesn’t even realize it.

“How do they feel?” I ask, inspecting her hands once I’ve finished.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Haven mumbles.

“That’s not what I asked.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why the fuck do you care, Colton? This morning, you were on your usual bullshit. So what the hell is this?”

I chuckle. “Oh, angel.”

She scowls. “Don’t fucking—”

With a hand over her mouth to shut her up, I lean in close, until I’m the only thing she can look at. I savor the way she looks so furiously helpless.

“You can resist me all you want, but for now, you’re mine, and I take good care of my belongings.”

She’s got a retort brewing, I can see it. But before she can get it out, I’m scooping her into my arms and carrying her through the house.

“Colton!” she screeches. “Stop. Juststop.”

My feet come to a halt, but I don’t set her down. “Do you want me to throw you out? Send you back to campus where that creep is probably still looking for you?”

She goes stiff.

“Didn’t think so. That means you’ll abide by my terms while you’re here. We’ll discuss everything in more detail tomorrow. For now, you need to sleep.”

Silently, Haven blinks up at me. God, it’s so easy to get her to comply. All I have to do is shock her a little bit, and it’s like she forgets how to think. She has no idea how to deal with me like this.

So easy to toy with.

In my room, I set her on my bed and go through my drawers until I find an old T-shirt. “Get changed into this.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

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