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.

Her legs slowly inch over the edge, and my hands stretch toward her as she bends at her hips, her torso still on the roof. “That’s it, baby girl,” I encourage, straining to touch her, to hold her, to keep her from falling. “You’re doing so good.” Her fingers curl around the edge of the roof, just like mine did, and my heart leaps as her body drops until she’s dangling.

My hands slide up to her thighs. Fuck, I wish I could get her waist, but no matter what, I will not let her fall. “I got you, baby, let go.”

She does and I catch her easily, keeping her in my arms and cradled against my chest as I creep through the back garden. Haven doesn’t make a noise as we go, content to stay curled up in my arms, face nuzzled against my neck.

Her trust in me is staggering. I don’t deserve it. Not in the slightest.

“Ren told us about the gap in the camera coverage,” I murmur to her. “Told us how you used it to sneak out to meet her. Figured we could do the same thing.” Her breath puffs over my skin as we approach the fence, and I cherish every gust of air, every validation that she’s here in my arms. “She told us you climb this fence like a freaking spider monkey, but tonight I’m gonna help you up and over, okay?”

She nods against my neck, still silent. I miss her voice, but I know it’ll be a while until I hear it again. Until we can figure out a way around the commands her father has put on her that doesn’t involve barking at her again.

I refuse to do that to her.

Some commands fade over time. Especially if the alpha who gave them lets their control over them slip. I have to imagine that Frederick Bell has too many commands in place for his daughter, too many to track or hold. So some of them are likely weakened. The ones about talking to us, though?

I’m sure he’s got those held on lock.

When we reach the wall, I shift the omega around in my arms until I’m gripping her waist, hoisting her higher. She stretches up and grips the top, wincing slightly. I don’t know if it’s because of the rough wood or if I pressed into one of her bruises. Either way, I hate myself a little for causing her even a moment of pain.

Gritting my teeth, I push her up and in the next moment she’s over, landing with a soft thud on the grass on the other side.

I let out a relieved breath, just knowing she’s off his fucking property.

Three seconds later, I’m next to her. One second after that, I have her up in my arms again, cradled against my chest. Haven lets out an amused huff that puffs over the skin of my neck. I glance down and find her gray eyes twinkling with amusement, and her mouth curled into a rueful smile.

“What’s so funny?”

She arches a brow and kicks her feet, telling me she’s capable of walking, I think.

I shrug. “I haven’t held you in weeks, baby girl. Let me do it now. Besides, you don’t have shoes on. I’m not risking you stepping on something and getting hurt more. Not on my fucking watch.”

Her expression softens and so does her body, melting into mine, before she tilts her head and places a soft kiss at the corner of my jaw. I feel that gentle brush of her mouth on my skin all the way down to my toes, but the warmth from it settles into my chest. Her head drops to my shoulder and I hug her a little tighter, hurrying my steps to get her into the car and away from here.

It’s waiting right where I left it, a few blocks from the Bell mansion. The engine turns over as we approach. I juggle Haven in my arms, and throw her bag into the back seat, before I yank open the front passenger door, and slide into the seat, arranging Haven on my lap.

She makes a surprised noise but doesn’t protest. Not that she’d be able to, even if she wanted to. Dark rage bubbles into my stomach. “This okay, baby girl?” I ask, wanting her permission to keep her tucked in my arms.

She nods and settles against me, looking across the car at Tic behind the wheel.

“Hey, angel,” Tic says softly, reaching over to run a knuckle down her cheek. His eyes darken with the promise of violence, taking in the fading bruises marring her pale skin. It’s been almost two weeks since we last saw her. Either he beat the shit out of her when she first got home, badly enough that she’s still healing from it, or he’s been using her as a punching bag this entire fucking time. “Did he give you anything? Force you to take anything? Any drugs?”

Her brow furrows like she doesn’t understand the question, why he’s asking it, but she shakes her head after a moment and mouths the word ‘no.’ He winces at the wordless reply, at the proof of the command holding her captive, but quickly buries it with a soft smile, one I haven’t seen on his face for years. “That’s good. We wanted to be sure. I brought something to help burn out other drugs, just in case, but I’m so fucking glad we don’t have to use it.”

Haven catches his hand when he goes to pull away, pressing it to her cheek, before turning her head to kiss his palm. Tic watches her, his expression as soft as I’m sure mine was when she kissed my jaw. He strokes her cheek again and then turns to grip the wheel, pulling out to the road.

We’re quiet as we drive through the neighborhood, and then into ours. Not nearly far enough from Frederick Bell, but we don’t have a lot of other options. We could have taken her to a hotel downtown, but we don’t control the security there. Here at least we have cameras with motion detection on every corner of our property thanks to the stupid game we’d devised years ago.

Jude has made our security system impenetrable and we’re a damn sight more careful about intruders than Frederick Bell seems to be. That’s what happens when you have a drug lab in the basement of your house.

Home is the best place for Haven. The safest.

Especially since I’m pretty sure all of us will have a hard time letting her out of our sight for the foreseeable future.

She’s asleep by the time we pull into the garage, her chest rising and falling with gentle even breaths. I don’t want to move her, disturb her. Something tells me she has gotten little sleep in her time away, not the restful kind she undoubtedly needs to help her body heal.

I’d happily sit in the front seat of this car for the rest of the night if it means she gets the sleep she needs, but the door into the house yanks open almost as soon as Tic shuts the engine off and Jude hurries out, coming to my side of the car and pulling the door open. His lips part and I slam my palm over them to keep him quiet.

Green eyes narrow at me, but then drop to take in Haven’s sleeping form and he nods his understanding. We’re going to be fucking quiet, silent, so she can sleep.

He holds out his arms, offering to take her from me, and I want to refuse, but he’s missed her too, maybe more than I have. I know his alpha is clawing at him to take care of the omega, the same way mine was the moment I saw her again. She murmurs something unintelligible as I pass her over, groaning slightly, but then settling once her face is pressed against Jude’s shirt.

Tic appears around the side of the car as Jude steps back, Haven’s bag in his hand. We lead the way inside, flicking off lights to keep the house dim, leaving just a side lamp on in the living room, where Hale is waiting with his arms crossed.

His icy blue eyes latch onto Haven as soon as she’s in the room, but he doesn’t reach for her, doesn’t touch her at all. Instead, he jerks his chin toward the stairs and all four of us make our way up them and into Haven’s room.

While Tic sets her bag in the closet, Jude carries her over to her bed and I pull back the covers. We position her in the center and don’t waste time stripping off clothes and joining her. Jude on one side, me on the other. Tic stretches out near her legs, his head resting on her hip, a throw blanket tossed over him.

Hale, the stubborn fucker, settles into the armchair, positioned to face the bed rather than trying to join us. If he wants to pretend he’s not as happy as the rest of us to have her back here, he’s welcome to. It just means the rest of us get to cuddle our girl more.

Haven murmurs softly and shifts between the three of us, settling deeper into sleep. With her faint pineapple and chili scent lingering in my nose, and her lush little body pressed against mine, I tumble into sleep after her.

The next morning, Haven pads into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing my black t-shirt. The one I was wearing last night, like she’d found it on the ground in her bedroom and decided to wear it because it soothed her.

I fucking love the sight of it, but I still stride over to her, reaching behind my head to yank the shirt off my back. She stares up at me with wide eyes as I efficiently strip her of the old shirt and pull the fresh one over her.

When I’m done, she smiles up at me with one brow cocked.

I shrug. “I enjoy seeing you in my clothes, baby girl, but I can give you fresh ones every morning.”

A pleased little purr sounds from her chest and she snuggles into me, arms wrapping around my waist at the same time mine wrap around her body, lifting her off the ground and carrying her over to slide her ass onto the kitchen island. “Hungry?” I ask, hands resting on her thighs. Thighs that are still covered in the bruises I’m trying not to lose my shit over.

It was bad enough last night, seeing them in the dim light, but now? When it’s full daylight and I can see the extent of what that asshole did to her? Yeah, my alpha is demanding retribution.

Haven’s fingers brush softly over my jaw, bringing my attention back to her face. She leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my mouth, one meant to calm me, soothe me. Her omega pheromones fill the air around us, not as strong as they would be if she wasn’t forced to take suppressants, but there all the same.

I lean my forehead on hers and inhale deeply. She kisses me again.

Then pulls back and strokes my cheek again, gray eyes soft, before a little smile curves her lips and she points at her stomach. It growls.

I laugh and, fuck, it’s amazing how quickly she can get my alpha under control. Without words. Just a few gentle touches and kisses and I’m a soft fucking kitten.

“What do you want to eat, baby girl?” I ask, fingers kneading her hips gently. I know there are parts of her body that are likely still tender, but I can’t stop touching her, not when she’s here in front of me after weeks apart.

Her head wobbles back and forth for a moment, then her lips part and my breath catches as I wait for her to speak. To say something. Only nothing comes out. Her brow wrinkles and then her face crumples as she remembers she can’t actually talk to me.

Fucking Frederick Bell.

I cup her cheeks and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay. I can guess. Pancakes?”

Her cheeks plump under my palms as she grins at me and nods. “Bacon?” I ask. A shake of her head. “Ah, sausage then.” She nods. “Chocolate chips or strawberries?” A scowl.

“Both obviously,” Jude says, stumbling into the kitchen, still looking half asleep. Haven smiles at him as he climbs up onto the island and crawls across it to slide in behind her. He slouches against her back, arms wrapped around her, his face buried in her neck, yawning loudly. “Why are we up? It’s so early.”

Haven huffs a soundless laugh and picks up his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “It’s nine,” I say, stepping away from them to start breakfast.

He rubs his face against our girl’s neck, likely leaving his scent all over her. “Like I said, early .”

Tic comes in next, heading straight to our girl. He hums happily when he kisses her, cupping her cheek carefully. “Morning, angel.”

I know his gaze lingers on the bruising on her legs and arms, the same way mine did, but he does a better job of keeping his reaction in check. He’s always been good at that. Keeping his head. “I’m gonna melt him in fucking acid, I swear.”

Oh, maybe not.

Haven pats his cheek and leans up to kiss him again. Her stomach takes that time to growl again. He laughs, just like I did, then nods. “Alright, omega, I hear you. Let’s get some food in your belly.”

She nods, then leans into Jude, lacing their fingers together where they rest on her thighs.

As Tic comes over to eye what I’ve pulled out of the cupboards so far, Jude lifts their joined hands and peppers kisses over her knuckles, the tips of her fingers, her palm. “Why don’t you get started on the coffee and I’ll make the pancakes?”

I grunt out my agreement, because the food will be better if Tic makes it. He’s by far the best cook out of all of us. And Haven deserves the fucking best.

The door to the garage opens and closes and Hale steps through, bringing with him his petitgrain and ozone scent and crisp early morning air. He doesn’t slow his steps, heading right to Haven and ignoring Jude’s protest as he pulls her into his arms. Her legs wind around his hips as he lifts her off the counter.

I don’t know where he went so fucking early this morning, but it’s clear whatever he did has upset him somehow. His shoulders are tense with stress and his scent is slightly charred. We can all see it. It must be why Jude doesn’t protest at all, just blinks sleepily as Hale bundles Haven into his arms and moves to perch on a stool with her in his lap. She stays wound around him, face buried in his neck, a soft purr flowing from her chest, vibrating around the room.

It helps soothe all of us. Fuck, does it help.

That lingering bit of tension I’d been feeling, that little bit— big bit—of rage at her obvious injuries, fades the slightest amount. With every rasp in her chest, she’s telling us she’s here, and she feels safe. We make her feel fucking safe.

I wish that didn’t make me feel like an asshole.

But it does.

It also makes pride swell in my chest and my alpha preen. We can take care of her, we can keep her safe, and fed and comfortable. We can provide anything she needs.

As I flip the coffee pot on, Hale murmurs something to Haven that I can’t make out, his lips pressed against her ear. But she nods at him. His big hand smooths down her spine and then under the hem of my shirt, blunt fingers stroking her skin. He lifts his head and arches a brow at the three of us, just standing there watching. “What?”

Tic shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But we all know it’s something. Something big. Hale has by far been the most resistant to Haven, to her charms and her joy. He’s been the one most dead set on revenge. I don’t even blame him for that, not really. He was our pack lead, and while Janie wasn’t technically a bitten in member, he failed to protect her.

He feels the heaviest guilt out of all of us.

But just now he didn’t spare any of us, his pack, a look or a greeting, just went right to the omega in our midst, like he needed to touch her… like he needed her .

It makes my heart swell with hope.

But as we all know, hope is a dangerous thing.