The image of her naked and sprawled out on the black covers flashes through my mind, and I have to adjust my hard-as-fuck cock into a more comfortable position.
Haven slowly walks closer to the podium with the glass box containing Carina’s stuffed unicorn.
She stares at it for a long moment, then asks, “Why do you have a stuffed toy on a podium?”
Even though I hate talking about my past, I reply, “It belonged to a little girl who meant the world to me.” Haven glances at me as I add, “I lost her.”
“I’m sorry. You must’ve loved her a lot to have kept her toy.”
“So much,” I whisper. “I’ll love her until my dying breath.”
“Was she your sister?” she asks.
I shake my head. “She was my best friend’s sister.”
Haven looks at the glass box again. “As a kid, I loved unicorns. That’s where my love for horses started.”
She lifts her hand to the glass, and I almost snap at her not to touch it, but bite the words back, even though every muscle in my body tenses.
“I think I had one like this,” she murmurs. “But the colors were brighter and not so faded.” She glances at me from over her shoulder. “What are the brown marks?”
“Blood.”
Haven’s features tighten, but I can’t place the expression on her face as she glances around the rest of my bedroom. Her eyesland on the framed photo on my bedside table, and as she walks closer to it, a frown forms on her forehead.
When she picks it up, her hand starts to tremble, her face drawing tight with shock and pain.
I move closer to her. “Haven?”
“Why do you have a photo of me?” The blood drains from her face, leaving her deathly pale. “Oh God. I thought I was dreaming of you because of all the crap, but I think they were memories.”
The shock of her words hits me so hard, a powerful tremor shudders through my body, my voice a mere rasp as I whisper, “What did you just say?”
Haven’s features start to crumble as her eyes slowly move from the photo to me. “I think you’re the teenage boy from my nightmares.”
I’m stunned out of my fucking mind for way too long as I stare at Haven, unable to process what’s happening.
Suddenly, she rushes toward me and starts to unbutton my shirt. She shoves the fabric off my shoulders, her eyes locking on the scar left by the bullet I took to my chest. She darts behind me, and I feel her fingers brush over the other scar. “It was you! You were there that night!”
My breathing speeds up too fast, and my head spins.
“Carina,” I groan, seventeen years of guilt filling the air between us.
She comes around my side again and looks up at me with shock and heartache, her eyebrows drawn together.
Our gazes lock, and I struggle to process that Haven is Carina.
Slowly, I lift my hand and brush my fingertips over her left cheek. “Stellina mia?”
“You called me that in my dreams.” Tears escape her eyes. “What happened that night? I don’t remember much. Other thanyou throwing me on the floor and falling on top of me before a monster carries me away. That, and my mother lying dead in a hallway.”
I’m hit with another wave of shock, this one so fucking intense, it makes me stagger backward before my legs go numb and I drop to my knees. My hands fall limply on my thighs.
The door slams open, and not thinking, I grab Carina and toss her over me so she lands on the floor at the side of the bed.
Just as I sit up, one gunshot after the other fills the room with flashes before the light is switched on. At the same time, I roll off the bed, falling over Carina, my mind racing to process that we’re being attacked.
“L-Leo,” Carina hic-cups with terror darkening her eyes.
