Reviving Haven (24 page)

I smile and move towards Latch, who is still stationed by my office door. I reach over to unlock the door.

“Go, please . . . you’re a distraction. A hot as hell distraction, but I have a job to do. Some of us actually have to work.” I look at him with amusement.

“What? I work. Okay, I mostly delegate, but I work too. I have ideas.” He looks sullen.

“Yes, you do, sweetie, and they are award winning.” I swat him on his ass and laugh.

Denise had returned from lunch, standing behind the counter now, and her eyes shoot straight up as I walk Latch out of my office. She actually stands there checking him out from top to bottom while smacking her lips.
For God’s sake!
I feel like slapping her. Jealousy has reared its ugly head. I will have to grow a thicker skin because women would love to love this man, repeatedly. Latch’s eyes travel towards Denise and he nods a quick greeting.

“Tonight, baby,” he murmurs as he reaches around me to grab my bottom cheek, which makes me jump as well as squeal. Of course, my cheeks are bright red as Latch leaves and I turn to face Denise.

“I suppose you heard, so just say it, will you?” I demand, shrugging my shoulders.

Denise puts her palm out in front of her face. She actually wants to high five me.

“Damn, you go, girl. I thought I saw him come in when I left for lunch . . . isn’t that the guy who created
Blood Vestige
? And he’s, well—very yummy.”

She can hardly contain her excitement. Her eyes are glazed over as if she has just seen the hottest guy on the planet. Well, at least we both appear to share that opinion, so I high five her just to be nice. I nod my head in agreement that he is indeed yummy, although I lean more toward delicious. I smile as I return to my office.

The next two weeks seem to have a life of their own. Between the bookstore and seeing Latch, I don’t seem to have one moment to myself. Latch has me sleep over almost every night. After the first week, he finally talked me into bringing a few things over so I won’t have to get up so early in the morning.

“Just move in with me,” he says groaning, his voice rough from sleep.

It’s extremely dangerous for me to wake up to him in a state of nakedness with sex hair. I cannot be trusted. Unless he ticks me off.

“Latch, how many times do we have to have this conversation? It
’s eight-in-the-fricking-morning!” I say, frustrated with the constant refrain. I try to get out of bed, but he pulls me back by my waist. “I have to go get ready for work and so do you.” I try pushing him away with absolutely no luck. He had been asking me constantly just to move in with him; his desire to for me to live with him was relentless.

“You sleep here every night, why not just move in?” He
’s whining now.

There it is—a sure sign of our twelve-year age difference. Although, to be fair, Jared had done his fair share of whining, considering I was seven years younger than him.

“Good grief, Latch. I’m not leaving Weezie to pay a fifty-five hundred dollar a month mortgage by herself. How many different ways can I explain this? I owe her big time. I’m not going to just bail on her. Please don’t make me choose.” I raise my voice in hopes of getting the point across. I think the word ‘choose’ makes him consider what he plans to say next.

“Okay, a compromise. I
’ll pay off the mortgage. Then everyone wins—Weezie has the place free and clear and then you can move in with me without feeling guilty.” Latch looks pleased with his proposition.

I jerk away from him, pissed. This scenario is reminding me of Jared and his constant need to control. I can
’t have another relationship where I hand over my life to someone else. I will never allow that to happen, regardless of my feelings for Latch. We have moved too fast on everything. This entire relationship has happened too quickly, and moving in with him is just too big of a decision. It’s too soon for me even to consider it.

“Are you freaking out of your mind? I
’m not going to allow you to pay off our condo. Jesus, sometimes I wonder about you. You’re too much, I swear.”

I jump out of bed and toss the sheet over him. I head into the bathroom to get ready for work.
The bathroom door flies open and Latch stands there naked. I continue looking into the mirror, putting on my face and trying to ignore him. I can feel his fury. His presence without clothing will be my undoing and the bastard knows it. Between his anger and the blatant hard-on, he must be assuming make-up sex. I roll my eyes. Then I sense a change in his mood. It feels dark, disturbing. I twist my hair up into my usual bun and try pushing past him as he blocks the doorway. He’s not letting me leave.

“Latch, I have to go. What
’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” I’m slightly perturbed.

He grabs my arm at the elbow. Not hard, but with some measured force.

“Don’t tell me what I’m not allowed to do, ever. Sometimes, Haven, you push me too far. This is one of those fucking times.” He’s not being loud, but his tone is menacing.

I suddenly feel frightened. This reminds me too much of the altercations I had in the past, the ones that left me emotionally battered. I jerk my arm out of his hold and move backwards. He steps toward me, causing me to flinch—not because I think Latch would hurt me, but out of old habits. Latch
’s facial expression drops. He looks almost ashamed. He tries moving closer, backing me up to the shower stall. He reaches his hand out and touches my cheek.

“Fuck. I would never . . . Do you honestly think that I would ever hurt you?” His voice is bordering on anger.

I’m not sure if the hostility is towards him or me. I feel emotionally vulnerable, and tears start to well up as I turn away from him.

“Haven, I would never hit you, ever. Ask any woman . . . she
’ll tell you I can be a huge prick, but I’ve never physically abused any woman.”

He shakes his head as he steps out of the bathroom, leaving me alone. I
’ve never feared being with Latch. I’ve always felt safe, protected. Jared was nice in the beginning too, then he changed. Is this what I bring out in men? Is this my fault? Did I overreact? We had a disagreement, an argument, so why did Latch lose it? This is the third time now he’s shown some strange behavior. I know Krystella really pushed him. He explained why he’d been so callous when I went to his office. I was satisfied with the explanation, but now I’m not so sure.

I quickly dress and gather my work things. Without looking at him, I snatch my purse and start towards the door. Latch blocks my path. His arms are crossed and he looks incensed.

“If you truly believe that I would ever strike you, then we’re done. I can’t be with someone who’s afraid of me. I’m sorry Jared fucked you up so badly that you don’t know the difference between an emotionally abusive asshole and a man who loves you.” Latch stares straight into me, his words searing my heart.

“Sometimes they feel the same,” I reply in a sob.

I shut the door behind me. I didn’t want to look at him, knowing his expression would have broken me.

I get to work and wait for Denise. As soon as she arrives, I lock myself in my office and cry. I cry for the time we had been together. I cry because I
’m broken. I cry because of my unwillingness to let the past go, letting it keep me from any kind of true happiness. Weezie would never say she told me so, but she was right when everything she predicted had come to pass. I feel empty, sad. The place where my heart should be feels desolate.

Maybe I
’m past redemption. I don’t have the will to save myself. If I stay with Latch, I will end up making him miserable with all of my insecurities. And even though he has the ability to be kind and sweet, it seems those emotions are tainted with anger and volatility.

It appears we both have our own demons.

L
atch

Maybe I should just throw in the towel. Haven is never going to trust me, which means she
’ll never love me. She actually thinks I would hurt her. When I watched her back away from me and then flinch, it almost killed me. I’ll be the first one to admit, I’ve done some fucked up things in my life, but I have never raised a hand to a woman. I hate the fact that that piece of shit Jared has ruined Haven for any man to love her. I wish I knew what extent he went to, what he really did to her because whatever it was he has totally fucked her up and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to break through that barrier. Every time I get close to finding out about her past, she pushes me away. I need to know everything he did to her and why she’s so afraid to love someone. I want to understand so I can mend her. I’ve never been in a relationship, so maybe I’m out of my depth here. I need her to realize I’m not him.

Why did I push her to move in with me? Because when she isn
’t with me, I do bad things. I let the craving pull me under. I’m letting my addiction control me. Fuck, I’m weak. I’m going to ruin it, ruin
us
by pushing too hard. I despise the person I am when I’m not with her.

How could I threaten her by telling her if she doesn
’t trust me, we’re done? She’ll never trust me now. I can never walk away from her; I’m in too deep. I’m afraid of what will happen if I lose her, what I would become. I have to make this up to her. I need to tell her how sorry I am, that she’s everything, and that without her, I’ll be nothing.

H
aven

I somehow make it through the day. More or less, I just seem to exist rather than actually be present. I decide to leave a little before five-thirty. I tell Denise she can close up. I think she knows I
’m upset.

I need my pills. I need to be in a state of denial.

It starts raining on the way home. By the time I pull into the garage, it’s a deluge. We hardly ever get rain in August, and even though it’s unusual, it’s a welcome change. I’ve always liked the rain. For some reason it comforts me.

Ten minutes later, I hear Weezie
’s car. At least I will be alone tonight. It’s a Friday night, so Weezie will be going out.

“Hey, girlfriend didn
’t expect to see you, thought you’d be at the boy toy’s house.” She grins, tossing her briefcase down and kicking off her shoes.

I lose it. Tears burst forth and I start crying uncontrollably. It
’s the kind of crying where you can’t even speak and then a bad case of the hiccups plagues you. The kind of crying you do when you’re seventeen, and your boyfriend breaks up with you and you feel like you’re going to perish. I’m officially acting like a brokenhearted schoolgirl, and I can see it in Weezie’s face. First she panics, then she gets pissed.

“I knew it, that mother fucker!” she yells, pulling me into a bear hug.

I’m sobbing so hard I can’t form words that make sense. Weezie holds me as she guides me to the recliner. Once I’m sitting, she gets a bottle of wine with two glasses and a box of tissue. As she pours wine with one hand, she uses her other hand to pull off my shoes.

“Haven, talk to me,” she says in a soft yet demanding tone.

“I . . . he . . . we . . .” I’m blubbering incoherently.

I take some tissues to blow my nose and dab my eyes.

“Sweetie, you have to give me a little more information. It’s hard for me to put a hit on the guy if I don’t know what the asshole has done.” Her voice is calm as she sips her wine.

“He wanted to . . . to . . . pay off your condo so I
’d move in with him.” I sputter.

“Oh my God, that fucking bastard . . . he should die right now,” Weezie replies, as she tilts her head away from me attempting to stifle a chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Weeze. Latch went ballistic when I said no, I mean he got mad in a scary way. It’s hard to explain.” I ball the tissue tightly in my hand.

Weezie sets her wine on the coffee table, leans over to me and pushes my hair out of my face.

“Haven, did he touch you?” Weezie’s voice sounds altered as she grits her teeth.

I shake my head several times in response. I never went into any specific details about Jared, and how he threatened to hurt me, but maybe Weezie has figured out more than I gave her credit for.

“We had a fight, a disagreement. He keeps asking me to move in and I told him no, that I can’t just leave you to pay the entire mortgage. He became totally unhinged.”

“Do you want to move in with him, Haven?” Weezie asks.

I pick up my wine and take a few sips.

“I don
’t think I’ve ever cared about anyone as much as I care about Latch, but it’s too soon. I’m still freaked out about the whole love thing and the age thing. Rather than tell him that, I told him about the mortgage, which isn’t a lie. I would never saddle you with paying that by yourself. You’ve been so good to me.”

“First of all, Haven, I
’m pretty sure I can pay the entire mortgage myself. So if living with him is something you want to do, I will support you, even though, personally, I agree with you—it’s too soon. I love you. You’ll always have a home here no matter what. Don’t let your doubts cloud your possibility for love,” Weezie says as she put her arm around me.

I lay my head on her shoulder. “It doesn
’t matter now. He broke up with me,” I sigh.

Weezie leans into me, pressing her forehead against mine. “His loss, Latch McKay has no idea how wonderful you are, or how perfect you would have been for him.”

I get up, refilling my wine glass and starting towards my room.

“I guess this means I
’m not meeting Keenan, huh?” Weezie asks loudly.

“Pretty much
on your own there, sista. Younger men suck anyway,” I reply bitterly, turning on my bedroom light.

“News flash—men sucking is universal, regardless of age,” Weezie replies, chuckling.

I take a bath and change into shorts and a nightshirt. Settling into my bed, I turn on the TV for a while. Weezie pokes her head in about an hour later and she’s all dressed up.

“You look nice,” I say as I turn the TV volume down.

“Have you eaten?” Weezie asks.

“Not hungry, but maybe later,” I mumble, clicking the remote.

“You know if you want me to, I can stay here with you. I don’t mind.”

“Hell no, there
’s nothing you can do here. Just go have your night out. Go do what you do.” My lips curl into a half smile because I know, full well, that she is planning to get laid. It’s a Friday staple in her diet.

“I feel like a shitty BFF for leaving you,” she snivels.

“Just go, please. I’ll probably crash by ten anyway.”

I motion with my hand for her to go away. She closes my bedroom door behind her.

It’s been hours since Latch had told me we were over. I thought that maybe he’d send flowers, a text or a voicemail. I guess he meant it. I suppose I could have called him, but what would I have said? Nothing has changed. I’m still not going to move in with him. I don’t understand how he can say he loves me, yet walk away so easily. Tears leak out my eyes again. I grab more tissue along with more wine. Between the crying and the wine, hopefully I will just pass out and forget everything that’s happened.