Havoc (28 page)

“Sir,” I greet him properly before looking
down and turning off my cell phone.

“Clint.”

Once I'm done, I look up and notice his face
looks a little solemn. Something inside of me pushes to ask what's
bothering him. Since Haven said what she did about my mother not
approving of our situation, I've found myself making slightly more
of an effort not to be as cut off from him. After all, he is the
one who will be guarding my heart while I'm gone. Besides, if it
pleases Haven, the least I can do is try, right?

“Something wrong, Sir?”

With a shrug, he answers, “I decided that
Karen and I should stop seeing each other.”

Good. Fucking great. That stripper was such a
bitch anyway. And judgmental. Sir is judgmental enough without
outside help. Believe me.

“Sorry to hear that, Sir.”

He cocks a smile, “No you're not.” I fight
back a chuckle, but once he does, I laugh with him. “She was awful,
wasn't she?”

“She was not pleasant.”

“She was a bitch, Slugger.” Hearing him say
it forces another laugh out of me.

“You can do better, Sir.” His laughter slows
down, and a look of appreciation appears in his eyes. The next
words fall out of my mouth in a lower tone and against my will,
“And you will.”

I quickly and thankfully turn my head toward
the approaching sound of heels clacking, Mindy's announcement to
the world she's arrived with the beautiful angel beside her. Haven
only gets more beautiful every time I see her. Even in a pair of
jeans, a plain, dark-yellow, long-sleeve shirt, and her hair pulled
into a high ponytail, she looks like she's missing from a Vogue
cover shoot.

Immediately, Haven rushes into my arms and
tosses hers around my neck.

“Hey, angel,” I chuckle a bit, squeezing her
tightly, my arms flexing like steel bars around her, trapping her
in my protection. Cradling this welcome. Adding to the memories
that will keep me warm when she can't. “I missed you, too.”

Pulling back, I wrap my hand around the back
of her neck, keep the other around her waist, and shove our lips
together roughly. Instantly, she invites me into her mouth, a spark
on my tongue that, as soon as I touch her, ignites a fire. Now I'm
starting to devour her like a slice of birthday cake. Eager.
Excited. She pushes against me feverishly, like we haven't been
together in years. God, it has been years, hasn't it? Like normal,
we forget that we aren't behind closed doors. Haven's hands slide
down the front of my shirt, causing a small groan to come out of
me.

“Excuse me,” Mindy's voice forces us apart,
being the hose to cool down the fire between us. Good thing, too.
Wouldn't pan out too well if I pinned her up against the side of
the building for our first time together.

Once apart, we wipe the bit of spit that's
escaped off the corners of our lips.

“Sorry, ma'am,” I politely apologize,
removing my tags and placing them back around Haven’s neck, her
parents’ bands already linked with them. She's been leaving them
with me when I have to take my tags. I leave them in my car for
protection then slip them back together as soon as I can.

“I swear it's like you've never dated a girl
before,” Mindy shakes her head and clutches her purse.

I scoot past them, grab the door handle,
holding it open, and respond, “She's not just any girl, Mindy.”

Haven thanks me and then turns to Sir, who is
cloaked in his work uniform, looking as intimidating as ever. First
a man of arms. Now a man of the law. I think Sir enjoys being
threatening. Or maybe protecting lives. It's hard to say. “What are
you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?”

“Told them I had an appointment and to cover.
They'll be all right for a bit without me.”

“But–”

“I'm right where I need to be,” his words are
followed by a soft rub across Haven’s back, the kind a proud father
would offer to comfort his daughter. The motion is simple and quick
but makes her smile brightly. “Supporting you.”

My fingertips find hers as she glances over
her shoulder at Mindy, “Thank you.”

Mindy nods. “Thank Slugger, too. If he
wouldn't have pleaded as much as he did, I probably wouldn't have
arranged them to meet with us.”

Her eyes fall back onto me as I grin widely.
“You really think I’d sit on the sidelines for an event like
this?”

We arrive at the adviser desk, where we meet
the person who will be guiding our tour and answering any questions
we might have about the Culinary School or any of the programs.
Between the skills Mindy has taught her and her natural draw to
baking, I don't know how it didn't hit all of us sooner.

Our guide is a middle-aged woman, slightly
heavy set, her navy-blue pant suit with its white blouse underneath
not doing her body any favors. Her hair is auburn. It's twisted up
in a clip, tightly.

We follow her like lost puppies at the pound,
Mindy and Haven at her side, me on Haven's heels, hand never
letting go of hers, and Sir on mine. She introduces us to various
teachers, most who seem enthusiastic about their jobs. When Haven
expresses her simple love of baking, we stop and observe a pastry
class for a few brief moments. The entire time she can hardly
contain herself. Soon after, we enter an empty classroom, and the
guide begins to speak.

“And you're her father?” Mary tries to
recall.

“No,” Sir shakes his head. “His,” he points
to me. I'm staring at Haven longingly, fiddling with her chain,
just utterly infatuated with how this school makes her glow. She's
eating up my looks with her giggles, which makes me long for more.
Fuck. I know. I'm smitten. This is pathetic.

Sir clears his throat to grab my attention.
Once. Twice. A third time, which is when Haven elbows me in the
stomach. At that moment, I stop finding ways to make her laugh,
stand up straight, and take on the strong stance of a soldier, both
hands behind my back, though they’re still linked with hers. Shit.
I shouldn't be behaving this way. My eyes catch Sir's as he glares
at my behavior, his thoughts written across his face like a
billboard. I need to get my shit together. Behave like an adult,
not a horny teen, or worse, Glove. I need to be respectful. This is
a place of business and Haven's future. He expects better from a
man in the Marines. I expect better of myself, but God, sometimes
that angel gets the better of me.

“We make choices together as a family,” Mindy
chimes in, breaking the building tension between the two of us.

Glad to see Sir and I back to where we were.
That only took, what, an hour? Confidently, Mindy lets the next
words roll out of her mouth, “I'm her adopted mother. And as you
can see, they're practically married. We just want to know we're
all on the same page, that we're doing what's best for Haven and
her future husband.”

A disapproving look appears on Mary's face. A
scowl. A judgment. She politely folds her hands in front of her,
“That's an admirable idea; however, we only enroll students who can
give fully to their studies, give fully to this life choice, not to
be . . . distracted.”

The disdain on her tongue transfers quickly
to my own. My body tightens in response. If this were about anyone
else, I wouldn't give a shit. I'd let it roll off and remember she
doesn’t matter. This isn't about me, though. This is about
Haven.

“Ma'am,” I begin politely, a soft southern
drawl underneath it all. I hate when that slips out. “With all due
respect, there's no reason for concern. While my behavior today may
appear as if I'm unable to control my actions, please do not be
mistaken. I am a United States Marine, ma'am, returning to duty in
about a month. I am not a distraction. I also will not be around to
be considered one.”

“Oh.” She's startled. Her face turns slightly
pink. She should be embarrassed. “I didn't realize.”

“I'm aware, ma'am. And I understand you care
for your school the same as a commanding officer would for his
troops. I apologize again if I gave you the impression we aren't
taking this seriously.”

She nods at me.

“This matter is one we are not taking
lightly. Grave consideration was given before arriving, has
continued upon arrival, and will not cease until a respectable
decision has been decided.”

Satisfied, she nods at me once more and turns
to Mindy, “The application process is simple but taxing.
Financially–”

“I would prefer the three of us discuss that
elsewhere,” Sir quickly interjects. “Perhaps your office?”

“Lovely idea,” Mindy exclaims joyfully. “Is
it OK to leave them here to explore the classroom?”

“As long as everyone conducts themselves in a
professional manner, that should be fine.” The thought of tossing
Haven on the counter and tearing her top off is appealing. Mary
eyes us heavily. Thought backlogged.

“Yes, ma'am,” I nod, and Haven follows
suit.

Mary instructs Sir and Mindy to follow her.
Once out of sight, I finally relax as Haven strolls away from me,
admiring the small classroom with its big glass windows letting in
a significant amount of sunlight. I carefully watch, intrigued as
she touches the long steel tables considered desks, wishing it was
my chest she was grazing instead. There's a stir inside my jeans.
Arriving at the sunflowers in a vase in the front of classroom, she
leans over and inhales deeply, her chest rising and falling from
the simple pleasure. I stifle a groan. God, no wonder I'm acting
like a horny kid. Every fucking move the girl makes is sexually
beautiful. I need a distraction. I swear, if I don't get my
attention on something else, I will end up tangled with her on one
of those tables, and it won't stop at kissing.

Sliding open the drawer next to me, I quietly
rifle through it until I find something of interest. “This is a
big-ass spoon.”

She shuffles quickly back over to me and
snatches it away, “That's not a big-ass spoon. It's a ladle.”

“A ladle?”

“It's a utensil used for serving soup, stew,
or punch.” She gives a demonstration.

“So, basically a big-ass spoon?” The words
make her grin. Hell, I don't know shit about cooking outside of
flipping chicken or ribs around on the grill, but I know how much
this means to her, so I gotta try to connect. She's made a similar
effort about my military career.

“Shut up.” She puts it away and leans her
back against the counter beside me. She folds her arms across her
chest and looks down at the floor, something clearly gnawing at
her. I know because I feel that gnaw in the pit of my stomach. Her
pain is mine.

I brace myself beside her, gently touch her
arm, and raise my eyebrows, “What's wrong?”

She shakes her head, “Nothing.”

“You looked so excited before.”

“I'm still excited.”

“Haven.”

“It's just . . .”

“Just what?”

Her eyes shove back down toward the newly
waxed floor, and her mouth remains shut. Normally, if she clams up
like this, she just needs a moment to peddle through the muck of
emotions all revolving around Old Man Banks.

Defensively, I move my body so it's in front
of her and take her chin carefully into my hands, lifting it up.
“Talk to me, Haven.”

“You know, a month ago, I never thought I’d
live to see my nineteenth birthday, let alone have to face the
decision what to do with my life. I didn't have a life. I had
heartbeats in a day. Breaths between beatings. Sunflowers in
season. No life, and now I have a complete one. It's just so
overwhelming.”

I plant my hands on her hips and lean down to
make sure her falling eyes lift back up to me instead, “You don't
have to make any choices right now. It's all on your own time. We
just thought that, since you had made so much progress, you know
physically and with the counseling, you were ready, but if you're
not, then you don't have to.”

“I know.” Her hands strokes mine. “It's just
crazy, you know?” Her lips start to tremble, struggling to
continue, “I always thought—I always thought—if—when—I made it this
far . . .”

And her voice is lost. Tears clogging the
chords. Yanking at my heart.

“Your parents would be here with you,” I
finish in a whisper. One of her fragile hands reaches my tags,
stroking their rings. “I know what you're going through. My
graduation day, they called my name, I went to accept it, my degree
with honors and behind me a photo collage Mindy had created to
display. But, the most important piece was missing. My mother's
face. The pain wasn't apparent to others, but it was nevertheless
very real. The lack of her being there, I pushed past it, made
quick decisions to keep from having to wallow in the truth of not
having a mother. And Sir tried, but it was never enough. Never the
right moment. All he wanted was to take a bit of the pain away. All
I wanted was her.”

Tears grow in her eyes until she collapses
her body against mine, wrapping herself tightly around me,
swallowing me with her sorrow. But, that's OK. I wouldn't have it
any other way. She's mine to save.

“I know you miss them. I know it's unbearable
at times, but I swear, you're not alone. And you never will be
again. I promise.”

Sniffling, she rests her head on my chest,
“You can't make that promise.”

I lift up her chin up, “A Marine is only as
good as his word.”

“And you're a damn good Marine.” Her eyes
search mine, and she lets a faint smile of relief come across her
face. “You're a goddamn good Marine, the best.”

My forehead comes down on hers, pulling her
in even tighter. She's damn right. I'll die before ever letting her
go through anything remotely close to that hell she encountered
again.

She's nineteen. She finally made it. These
past few weeks have been long and excruciating but worth it for her
to feel what she's about to. What she deserves to. What she's been
waiting for since she escaped that death trap she might have called
home for the last four years. There's a slight tug at my heart
watching her sleep. It's not like I haven't done this a million
times before, but this moment seems too special to ruin, even
though I know, if I don't, I'll hate myself for it.