Page 40 of Haven Bound
Ignoring his comment, I lower my voice and say, “I don’t fucking think so. Does the name Margaret ring a bell? What about the name Chelsea?” I watch his eyes widen, pupils dilating in fear as those two names sink in. His breaths are coming in short quick bursts.
After today, Daniel Witters won’t be able to harm anybody else.
I begin to trail the steel blade across his collarbone, the fabric of his shirt tearing away to reveal trickles of blood rising to the surface. “I bet you thought you’d get away with it. I bet you thought that you could continue living your disgusting pathetic life despite the horrible things you’ve done, despite the agony you’ve caused,” I say. His eyes fall shut, his breath shuddering as he visibly fights back a groan of pain when I drag my blade down his chest toward his navel. I apply enough pressurefor the tip of the blade to pierce his skin but not enough to cause fatal damage. Not yet anyway.
The way his body is tensed tells me that he wishes he could fight against the hold that I have him in. He’s not the kind of man who’s used to being overpowered. My voice lowers an octave, my mind sinking further into the darkness that allows me to kill without remorse. “That girl that you treated as though she was an inconvenience…” I drag my blade back up his torso, and he finally lets loose a howl of fear and agony as his blood begins to coat the blade.
“Fuck you,” he spits through the pain, dragging out each letter.
Ignoring him, I continue, “That girl you treated as though she was worthless is the woman that I cherish most in this world. She alone is my own personal haven, and I refuse to let a piece ofshitlike you ever tear her down again.”
His breaths are coming in rapid bursts, his chest heaving as he groans and screams and pants through the pain. “She iseverythingto me,” I growl, pulling the steel blade away and positioning my finger over the gun’s trigger with the barrel still pressed firmly to his forehead. “And now you’renothing.”I fire the gun before he has a chance to release his next breath, his head flying backward as the bullet pierces his skull with ease, a crimson spray decorating the room.
A heavy weight lifts from my shoulders as his lifeless body lays spread out on the couch before me. But I can’t enjoy this, not yet. Wanting to get out of here and back to my girl as fast as possible, I move to the kitchen and quickly locate Dan’s liquor collection. Grabbing several bottles and removing the caps, I pour the alcohol over his body, the couch, and all over the floor before shattering several other bottles against the wall.
I stand at the front door and take in the scene in front of me for a moment, the lit cigarette that Dan dropped on the floor already ablaze causing flames to creep over the fabric of the couch with the alcohol’s help. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small pack of matches, striking one and tossing it aimlessly into the liquor-coated room. Flames immediately roar to life behind me as I make my way down the weathered wooden porch steps and back toward the SUV.
Walking back through the heavily wooded area to get to the vehicle gives me a chance to call Zack. He answers on the first ring. “Ready?” he asks, knowing exactly why I’m calling.
“Go ahead and call it in,” I tell him, disconnecting the call after he responds with a curt “Done”. His connections at the local fire and police departments are aware of the situation and are currently on standby waiting for his call. They must be quick to answer too because I can hear sirens in the distance as soon as I make it back to the vehicle. They’ll make sure the fire doesn’t spread beyond the house, and it will be marked as an accident. Dan’s life will simply look like collateral damage.
My phone automatically connects to the SUV’s Bluetooth system as I slide in behind the wheel, a smirk tugging at my lips as the song “Bodies” by Drowning Pool begins to filter through the speakers. The only thing I care about now is taking a shower to clean the filth off of my body and then holding Chelsea in my arms.
30
Austin
By the time Imake it back to the hotel, I feel like my skin is coated in a year’s worth of dirt and grime. As much as I’m itching to jump in the shower and let the scalding water wash away any remaining evidence of what I’ve done, I need to check on Chelsea first. I need to see for myself that she’s alright even though I know that Zack would have notified me immediately if she wasn’t.
I strip down to my boxer briefs as I wait for the live stream of the security feed from her bakery to load on my phone. My shoulders nearly slump in relief when she appears on my screen. She’s wearing a black Buttersweet Bakery logo tee with the lettering in her signature aqua blue color paired with dark distressed jeans. My mouth waters from the way the material hugs her plentiful curves, plump ass, and long legs. Her sun-kissed copper hair is pulled up into a messy high ponytail, her hips swaying back and forth to the beat of the music that fills the space as she adds various ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer.
I can’t tell what she’s making but if I had to guess, I’d assume she’s probably preparing for the barbecue my parents are hosting this weekend. A casual get-together celebrating my homecoming, one that all Phoenix members in the area are invited to.
Shit.
That damn barbecue is the whole reason I stumbled back into Chelsea’s life to begin with. I completely forgot about it amidst everything that’s happened lately. I felt like such an asshole telling her that it was just for close family and friends, completely overlooking the fact that she should be included in that group of people. I wasn’t prepared to see her that day. Walking into the bakery only to discover that she was the owner completely threw my world off its axis.
Even so, I couldn’t have outright told her“Hey, Chels. My family is part of a secret organization called The Phoenix Legion, and they’re throwing a party for all of the members in the area to celebrate my return home.”
She probably would have looked at me like I was insane and told me to get the fuck out of her bakery. I’m still shocked that she didn’t say something along those lines when I finally confessed everything to her. I never could have anticipated that she would be thanking me for coming back to Haven Beach to kill her stepfather, even if the man didn’t deserve to continue living.
Leaving the security feed pulled up on my phone, I step into the large shower that could easily accommodate more than one person and let the scalding spray of water pour over my skin, easing my aching muscles. I won’t be able to fully relax until I have that gorgeous woman back in my arms, but knowing that she’s happy and safe for the time being eases a fraction of the tension coursing through me.
The same fantasy from the last time I showered while she was mere feet away in my bed floods my mind, and my cock begins to harden at the idea of Chelsea surrendering her control to me. Knowing that I’ll be seeing her soon has me mentally telling my dick to calm the fuck down,refusing to take matters into my own hands when being with her in any capacity is a million times better.
After scrubbing at my skin until it’s nearly raw, I make quick work of drying off and getting dressed. Remembering the look in Chelsea’s eyes while she undid my belt the other night has my blood pumping with arousal. Grabbing the same black leather belt I was wearing that night, I fasten it through the belt loops of my low-slung jeans, slip on a pair of black Vans, and then head out the door.
Even with a stop along the way, I manage to make it to Chelsea’s bakery within twenty minutes, walking toward the aqua-blue door with three sunflowers tied together with a bright blue ribbon in hand. The sign displaying the bakery’s hours tells me it’s just about closing time. I find Chelsea gathering the few remaining desserts into a small box as I step inside. The bell above the door chimesand she looks up, a bright smile spreading across her face when she sees me. She sets the box of treats down on the counter and quickly steps around the display case to greet me.
“I didn’t think I’d get to see you today!” she exclaims. There’s a lightness to her tone that I haven’t heard since coming home.
“I needed to see you, Sunflower,” I tell her, holding out the bright yellow flowers in her direction.
“These are gorgeous, Austin.” She takes the flowers from me and stares at them momentarily, a range of emotions crossing her face before her bright green eyes lift to meet mine.
“They’re nothing compared to you, Chels, but I saw them outside the floral shop and had to get them,” I tell her. The way she’s looking at me takes my breath away.
There’s not a single time when I’ve seen a sunflower over the years that I haven’t instantly thought of her. It used to be because their vibrancy reminded me of the happiness that Chelsea so often exuded, but now, the tall bright flowers that always find a way to face the sun will forever remind me of how strong and resilient she is.
