Page 237 of Redeemed

She laughs before cupping my cheek. “My darling boy. Only you could look love right in the face and mistake it for hate.”

Love.

I want Charlotte to be right. She always is, so it would be easy to believe her, but she doesn’t understand what I’ve done. There’s nothing I could do to make Haven love me, let alone forgive me.

Especially after today.

Haven

Whenthefrontdooropens, I perk up. I’ve been waiting for Colton to get home. He promised he’d take me to the library this afternoon. I told myself it’s to check out a book, but it’s more to spend time with him.

We both need a break from life, I think. For me, it’s getting out of the house, and for him, it’s stepping away from whatever work he’s been up to. I don’t know the details, but I can see the stress wearing him down. He’s not sleeping as well, he’s not eating as much, and he’s retreating into himself more and more.

But when Colton steps inside the house, my hopes of a nice afternoon with him fall apart. His eyes are dark, his features hardened. He’s angry.Reallyangry.

“What are you doing?” I ask, scrambling to the other side of the couch as he stalks toward me.

“I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” I ask cautiously.

With an impatient sigh, Colton yanks me off the couch and onto my feet. He doesn’t offer an explanation—just drags me toward the stairs. I must not be moving fast enough because he grabs me, throws me over his shoulder, and takes the steps two at a time.

“Colt—Colton!” I grab onto the back of his white dress shirt, and coming into contact with the crisp material has the gears turning in my head.

He only dresses like this for meetings. I’m not entirely sure what those meetings are for, but I know Mark is at most of them, and that Colton usually comes home pissed off at his father.

“Colton,” I say again, but this time, my voice falters.

The last time he dragged me through the house like this was when he brought me to the basement to flog me. That was almost six months ago, and I didn’t think I had to worry about that happening again.

I want that to be the case now.

In his room, Colton dumps me onto the bed and turns toward his walk-in closet. Panic claws up my throat as my mind’s eye zeroes in on the sex toys—both for pain and for pleasure—he keeps in there.

“Window,” I blurt.

It’s the first time I’ve called it in months. The boys have learned my limits and know what not to push me on. They went from cornering me into our agreement to treating me like something they treasure.

Colton freezes. He slowly turns around to face me, and I swear I see a touch of hurt mixed in with the emotions swirling in his eyes.

“I’m not…” The anger fades from his expression, and he comes closer, keeping his movements slow and predictable. “Angel, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re acting like you’re going to.”

My breaths are coming faster now, and I hate it—hate how quickly I panic at the first sign of anger from these three. They’ve been nothing but respectful of me for months, and here I am, assuming the worst for almost no reason.

As tension builds in my chest, I wish I could go back to Halloween freshman year and tell myself to follow my gut. I never should’ve doubted myself—or Colton—back then.

And I wish I didn’t doubt him now.

“That’s…” He pauses to think before grimacing. “That’s fair enough. I’m sorry. I just need you to get dressed.”

“To go to the library?”

“No. I’m sorry.” He disappears into his closet, coming out with a pretty white dress.

“That’s… for me?”

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