Haven's Knight

by Regan Ure

  He was so upset. He hadn't given me a chance to explain that I didn't blame him and that it hadn't been his fault. I dropped my head into my hands. He thought he was to blame, but he wasn’t.

  Irrespective of the facts that he'd told me that he couldn't love me and that we'd agreed to be friends, I was falling for him. It was hard not to. I'd lectured myself, telling myself that I had too much to deal with to also deal with feelings for a boy I had no idea how to handle. That it would only end in heartbreak, mainly my heart breaking; but the heart wants what the heart wants, and no logical reasoning was going to change that.

  I wanted to go and look for Damien, but I had no idea if he was still even in the hospital. I wanted to tell him that I didn't blame him at all.

  By the time Steven returned, I was exhausted and emotionally raw. He stood beside me.

  "Where's Damien?" he asked, a little confused that Damien would leave me alone.

  "He left," I answered, while I fixed my eyes on my hands in my lap.

  "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

  I shook my head.

  "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked softly as he sat down in the chair beside me.

  "He blames himself," I whispered. I hated that I’d hurt him.

  I looked up and saw Steven study me for a moment, and then he let out a sigh.

  "Damien cares about you and I'm sure he's upset that he thinks he is the reason why you are here," he explained. I already knew. "Give him some time to deal with it.”

  I nodded my head. There wasn't much I could do to rectify it if I couldn't even find him.

  "Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked me kindly.

  "No, I'll be okay."

  The lack of sleep and the stress from the last hour had taken its toll on me, and I was tired. I just wanted to be alone to sort through my thoughts.

  "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't mind staying if you want me to."

  I gave him a weak smile that didn't reach my eyes.

  "I'm sure."

  He was sweet. It was nice to know that I had other people I could depend on.

  "I nearly forgot," he remembered. "This is for you."

  Out of his pocket he pulled a brand-new iPhone and handed it to me.

  "You didn't have to," I protested as my hands clasped around the new phone. It was sleek and smart, I'd never owned anything this beautiful.

  He smiled at my obvious awe.

  "I want you to be able to call us if you need to. I've programmed our numbers in," he informed.

  "Thank you."

  I would need to play around with the phone to figure out how to use it. The only other phone I'd ever owned had been the one Damien had given to me.

  "The social worker is coming later this afternoon. She wants to see you alone, but I'm going to be just outside in case you need me, okay?" he told me.

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," he assured me just before he left.

  Finally alone with my thoughts, I set the phone down on the side table and slumped back into the bed.

  I closed my eyes and tried to make sense of what had happened with Damien. My heart hurt when I remembered the look on his face. I wondered if I should try and call him, but then I decided against it. Irrespective of how desperately I wanted to talk to him, I had to respect the fact that he needed time alone.

  It was hard, but somehow I stopped myself from reaching for the phone. I really hoped that Damien would come back soon, but minute after minute ticked by and an hour later he still hadn’t returned. Exhausted, I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. I had just wanted to rest for a few minutes, but I drifted into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Haven

  I honestly thought that by the time I woke up a little later that afternoon Damien would have been back, but he wasn't.

  After the cops' questioning, I wasn't looking forward to meeting with the social worker, but I was thankful when Steven appeared in the doorway of my hospital room half an hour before the meeting was scheduled.

  "Damien still not back?" he asked casually as he stood beside the bed.

  "No," I answered. My heart felt heavy. I didn't want Damien to feel guilty, irrespective of what had set Grant off. It had been inevitable. I just wished Damien would show up so that I could explain it to him.

  "He'll be back," Steven assured me confidently. I felt a whole lot less confident that Damien would return.

  The closer it got to the meeting with the social worker the more nervous I became. Thoughts of Damien were forgotten as my thoughts turned to what the social worker would ask. I'd already relived the attack earlier with the cops and I didn't want to have to do that again.

  By the time the social worker arrived for our meeting I was a nervous wreck. I just hoped it went quickly so that I could get rid of the sickening feeling in my stomach. The social worker was younger than I expected; she looked like she was in her late twenties, neatly dressed in a skirt and jacket with a white blouse.

  Once Steven had a few words with her, he reminded me that if I needed him he would be outside the room, and then he left the two of us alone. The social worker gave me a friendly smile as she sat down beside the hospital bed. She pulled out a notepad and a pen before she gave me her full attention.

  I tucked a piece of stray hair behind my ear.

  "Hi, Haven," she greeted me. She looked like a kind person, so the nervousness I'd been feeling began to dissipate.

  "Hi," I mumbled.

  "My name's Sarah," she introduced herself. She scribbled something down onto the notepad and then looked back to me.

  "I know you've been through a lot and I'm not going to take up too much of your time," she informed me.

  At least the meeting was going to be quick. I was ready for this day to be finished.

  "Cases like yours have to be handled with care," she began to explain. "The police have given me all the information they have and I've been updated by your doctor on your medical history and wellbeing. Between them I have all the information I need, so I don't believe there is a need to go into a lot of detail."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. She was letting me off the hook, and I was grateful.

  "Mr. Knight has filed the correct paperwork to gain custody of you, so it will all be sorted out soon," she assured me, then she scribbled some more notes on the notepad. I wondered what she was writing because I had yet to say a word.

  "I'm still going to keep in touch to see how you settle in with the Knights."

  Then she linked her hands and her eyes settled onto me. It was like she was building up to something and I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to like it.

  "I think that after everything you have been through you need someone to talk to about it. I'm going to give you some contact details of a therapist I suggest you go and see."

  The thought of talking to an absolute stranger about what had happened to me over the last seven years made me sick to the stomach.

  "I really do think it will help."

  I gave her a slight nod to speed up this meeting. There was no point in arguing the point that no amount of therapy would erase all the things that had been done to me. Frankly, I thought it was a waste of time. The meeting didn't last long. As she was about to leave she handed me her business card and the details of the therapist.

  "I'll be seeing you soon," she said before she left.

  I remained silent and stared at her business card. It was hard to think that her job was to deal with kids like me on a daily basis. It must be a pretty depressing job.

  "Hi," Steven greeted when he stepped into the room.

  "Hi," I replied, shoving the cards into the drawer in my side table.

  "How did it go?" he asked, watching me. I think he was trying to see if I was upset.

  "It went...okay," I answered with a shrug.

  "I've got to get back to the office," he told me. "When Damien makes an appearance, tell him to call me."

  And then he
left.

  I slumped backward onto the pillow and lay on my side. After the day I'd had, and even after having had a nap, I was still tired. I lay on my side with my gaze fixed on the window. It was nice just to lie there and stare at the view. There wasn't much, but through the blinds on the windows I could see some trees.

  For a moment I just concentrated on the scene outside trying to push thoughts of Damien from my mind.

  At least I'd gotten the meeting with the cops and the social worker over and done with. My thoughts went straight to Damien. I wished he’d come back. The doctor would be around in the morning but so far I was on track to be discharged tomorrow. I was beginning to feel nervous.

  Not only was it nerve-wracking moving into a new home and trying to be 'normal', but I was also worried about Grant. The cops didn't have him in custody yet and the fear that he'd finish what he started petrified me. Now that I had a new lease on life I didn't want it cut short.

  I must have dozed off for a while because the next moment I opened my eyes it was dark. I yawned and rubbed my tired eyes as I sat up. It was then I noticed Damien leaning with his back against the wall, watching me. For a few moments I just quietly returned his stare. He looked stressed and upset. I wanted to put my arms around him and hug him close.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

  "You have nothing to be sorry about," I reassured him.

  "Of course I have to be sorry. I'm the reason why he hurt you...the reason he nearly killed you..." Emotion clogged his voice. The pain in his features made my heart ache.

  "But if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had a phone, without you I would have bled to death," I reminded him. He'd saved me.

  "If it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have been in that situation to start off with," he tried to explain. I could see the guilt as clear as daylight in his eyes.

  "Grant was going to do what he wanted, whether he had an excuse or not,” I said. Silence descended as I tried to think of the right words to explain to him that he'd saved me in more ways than one. "And besides, if the attack hadn't happened, I would still be living with him, completely helpless. He would still be hurting me."

  Sympathy and anger mixed together radiated from him. It was hard for him to hear it, but he needed to know that he was my hero.

  "I'm free because of you,” I said. I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. "Thank you."

  "Don't cry," he said softly as he closed the distance between us and I felt his arms reach for me. He was warm and comforting and I clung to him.

  He soothed me as he held me in his arms. His hand made small circular motions on my back as he held me close. Just the smell of him was enough to make me feel safe. I sniffled and he gently looked down at me.

  He shifted me over slightly and climbed onto the hospital bed, and then lay down on his side. Gently he shifted me so that I lay on my side with my head on his chest like a pillow, my one arm wrapped around his waist.

  "I'm sorry I left you earlier," he apologized while I felt him soothe my hair gently as he held me closer.

  "To think I was the reason why he did this to you was...heartbreaking..." he said, his voice choking from the emotion. "From the moment I laid eyes on you I wanted to protect you and keep you safe, and I failed."

  "You didn't fail. I've never had anyone try and protect like you did. What happened wasn't your fault and you need to accept it and move on. I'm here, alive, because of you, and that's what you need to remember. If anything, you’re the knight that saved the princess from evil.”

  Grant wasn't in police custody, but he was out of my life for the moment and I could finally breathe without having to worry if something was going to set him off, and I no longer had to hope that he wouldn't hit me hard enough to leave marks I would have to try and explain.

  "I'm no knight," Damien said.

  "You might not think so, but you saved me. You're my hero. You've given me hope and that is more than I've had in a long while."

  I expected him to say something, but he held me close. I relaxed in his embrace, feeling safe and happy.

  For a while we lay together in silence.

  "How was the meeting with the social worker?" he asked.

  "She was nice and friendly." It was the only information I was going to give him. I didn't want to tell him that she'd suggested I got into therapy. He might look at me like was a nut case. I didn't want to spill my deepest and darkest secrets to a stranger—just the thought of doing that made me physically sick.

  "I'm sorry I left you," he apologized again. I could feel his breath in my hair.

  "Stop apologizing," I insisted as I lifted my head to look at him and our eyes connected.

  There was something that sparked inside me every time his eyes met mine. He brushed his knuckles over my cheek gently while I remained transfixed by his deep gaze. I licked my lips nervously. I knew I was playing with fire. His eyes flickered to my lips and then back to my eyes.

  Maybe it was the fact that we decided we shouldn't date that made it something forbidden, something that we both now wanted even more. Or was the physical attraction between the two of us too strong to resist?

  I didn't know.

  But what I did know is that we leaned into each other and I felt his lips touch mine. It was like fireworks going off inside of me at the magical touch of his lips against mine. My mind was telling me to stop, but my body wasn't listening, it was just reacting to the chemistry and attraction between us. It would only end in heartache, but at that moment I didn't care. The world would be falling apart around me and I would have been oblivious to everything except for the feel of his lips against mine.

  His hand cupped the back of my head as his lips moved more intensely against mine. I groaned and opened my lips slightly, and he didn't need any more invitation than that. His tongue swept into my mouth and explored my mouth, tangling with my tongue.

  My hand clutched at his shirt, holding him desperately while I felt myself spinning out of control as the kiss intensified. It was like a hurricane around us, and I clung desperately to him. I even felt my toes curl and the tingling from his kisses spread through my body.

  He pulled me closer. His lips moved from my mouth to press a trail of kisses to my jaw. I wanted him so badly and I held onto him as the effects of his touch vibrated through my body like electric shocks.

  "I want you," he whispered hoarsely. He pressed a kiss to my collarbone.

  His words broke the spell that had held me captivated by him. He only wanted my body—it was a physical thing for him, but I wanted more. I wanted it to be more than just a physical thing between the two of us.

  I pulled away from him.

  "I can't," I said breathlessly.

  Thankfully, we were no longer touching, so I was able to think straight and keep him at a distance. It was one thing to be wanted by someone, but I needed more. I didn't want to just be wanted in a physical sense, I wanted to be loved. I needed the emotional connection he wasn't able to give me.

  "We can't keep doing this to each other," I insisted as he sat up and faced me. "We want different things. There can't be anymore slipups."

  He remained quiet while he watched me. I could see that he was struggling with the need to pull me into his arms and finish what we had started.

  "No more touching, at all," I instructed him. I could keep him at a distance if we didn't touch each other. Once our skin met I threw caution to the wind and I lost all self-control. ”No more hugs, or holding each other.”

  My fingers touched my slightly swollen lips, the physical remains of our heated kiss. I blushed at my reaction to him and his kisses. Living under the same roof wasn't going to be easy, but we would have to make it work.

  "Okay, no touching," he agreed breathlessly. His eyes were still dark with need. It was nice to see that I wasn't the only one struggling with the effects from our kiss. I affected him as much as he affected me.

  It would be so easy to say 'fuck it' and do what I wanted, and se
e what happened, but I deserved more. I didn't want to be some player's girl of the week, I wanted to love and be loved. In keeping with our new rules he moved off the bed and sat down, keeping his distance.

  It was at that moment, while I was still trying to catch my breath, that Chris walked into the room. His perceptive eyes didn't miss my slightly swollen lips or the uncomfortable way Damien couldn't look him in the face and kept his gaze glued to the floor.

  He smiled.

  "Hi," he greeted me, still grinning.

  "Hi." It was good to see him, because I'd missed his visit yesterday.

  "I've got to go and call my dad," Damien muttered, and then left me alone with Chris.

  The traitor.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Haven

  "Spill," Chris instructed me when he sat down next to the bed, grinning at me.

  "I..." I started.

  "Kissed Damien Knight, the hottest guy in our school?" he offered, with a mischievous smile.

  I rolled my eyes at him and then sighed. "Yes."

  "I knew it!" he exclaimed, getting all excited. "It was just a matter of time."

  I shook my head at him and he gave me a confused look.

  "We've decided to keep things platonic," I revealed. He didn't look convinced.

  "And how's that going for you?" he replied as he pointed out my still slightly red and swollen kissed lips.

  "We're trying," I argued. The operative word was trying, not succeeding.

  "It seems to be working," he replied sarcastically. He was voicing what I already knew. Trying to keep things between us platonic was going to be difficult. If we could just make sure we didn't get too close to each other, we might just be able to resist the pull we each felt to the other.

  Chris spotted my phone on the side table and picked it up. I didn't need to ask what he was doing—I knew he was programming his number into my phone. He handed me my phone when he was done. I still needed to learn how to work the phone properly¸ but I managed to find the contacts. I scrolled through them; there weren't many, and I had to suppress a giggle when I spotted a contact listed as "Hot Friend."