by Harley Stone
“It’s fine. I’m not thirsty anymore. Come on.” I took her hand. Leaving our drinks on the bar, I led her through the gathering crowd, scowling at anyone who didn’t get the fuck out of my way, toward the door.
“What’s he going to do?” Wesley asked, following us. “He can’t protect you. Not from me, and certainly not from you.”
The motherfucker had moved from taunting her to taunting me, and no way would I stand there and let him question my ability to protect anyone. Julia might not want to cause a scene at her sister’s wedding, but I had no such qualms. Ready to swing, I spun around, but Julia intercepted me.
Her eyes were watering. “Please don’t,” she whispered, staring up at me.
Fuck.
“You going to hit me?” Wesley asked, too stupid to know when to stop. “You going to beat the shit out of me like you did Noah? Well, asshole, you can’t jump me from behind like you did him. I’m ready for you.”
One hit. That’s all it would take. One hit and I could shut him up for good.
Julia’s eyes pleaded with me every bit as much as her mouth as she said, “He’s not worth it. Please get me out of here.”
As much as I hated to do it, I walked away from that fight.
Julia needed me more than I needed to shut that motherfucker up. By the time we made it to the dance floor, her entire body was trembling. I held her close and she pressed her face against my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I found the slow beat of the song and began swaying us along to the music. We stayed like that for a few beats while she calmed down.
Finally, she whispered, “I failed. I let him bait me.”
“He’s an asshole who knows how to pull your strings. You lost one battle, but not the war. You’ve got this. We’ll get you through the wedding and you’ll never have to come back here. You’re doing great. Just a little while longer.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth? That he—”
Grabbing her chin, I gently tugged until she was looking up at me. “It doesn’t matter. He’s trying to get you back any way he can. That bastard fights dirty, but you know what? So do I. And I don’t lose.”
Her eyes were gorgeous. Intense. Complicated. For the first time since I’d known her, she dropped her guard and let me see what was behind her hard exterior, and it was beautiful. Soft. Delicate. Volatile. Dangerous. I saw her teetering between who she had been and who she wanted to be, battling the bonds that held her to the past. Her strength was breathtaking.
“Everyone’s staring at us,” she whispered.
Our feet had stopped, and we were standing in the middle of the dance floor. I glanced around, glaring at anyone brave enough to meet my gaze before returning my attention to her. “I don’t give a single fuck what these people think, and you shouldn’t either. I see you, Jules, and I know who you really are. You’re better than this shit.”
She swallowed, and more tears flooded her eyes, but she blinked them away. Did she ever allow herself to cry? Not in front of this group. Maybe not ever. I’d known her for less than a week and was probably the only one who’d ever seen her this real. This breakable. Life had turned her into a bitch, but that wasn’t who she was. She was strong and beautiful and fierce.
I released her chin and she once again nestled against my chest.
“I don’t want to be better,” she muttered. “I want to kill him.” But her tone lacked its previous seriousness. She’d turned the battle around.
“I know.” I rubbed her back. “Bad idea, though.”
“Why? Too many witnesses?”
I chuckled. “Definitely a concern.”
She sucked in a deep breath and released it. Her body finally relaxed. “Thank you again for coming with me, Havoc. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”
Despite the situation, her bare skin beneath my hands and her big round tits pressed against me were making my dick take notice. There were several ways to fight for Julia, and like I’d told her, I fought dirty. I wasn’t above fucking her senseless until she forgot all about this place and these people. “How long do we have to stick around?” I asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at the head table where Laura was busy chatting it up with the guests. “We’ll go tell her goodbye after this dance.”
Julia
“YOU’RE COLD,” HAVOC said, eyeing my bare shoulders and arms.
It was a little after six p.m., and we were sitting on a mostly-empty ferry, heading back to Seattle. We’d chosen a window booth, so we could watch the sun set behind the skyline of the city. The view was incredible, made more beautiful by the symbolism it presented. I’d survived Laura’s wedding, and before the sun disappeared completely, I’d be done with this chapter of my life. I’d never have to return to Bainbridge Island, never have to see any of those assholes again.
I was finally free.
Previously unable to focus on anything past the wedding, I hadn’t anticipated how cold the ferry would be on the way home. I should have brought a coat, and now I was paying for my shortsightedness. “I’m fine,” I insisted.
“No lies, remember?” Havoc patted the bench seat beside him. “You’re shivering. Come here.”
As I scooted around the small table to join him, he removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Before I sat, he stood and draped his warm jacket over my shoulders, pulling it around me. It hung almost to my knees and smelled of wood, spices, and metal. Havoc’s unique manly scent added to the warmth, making me feel safe and grounded. I snuggled into it and turned to return to my seat, but he patted the seat beside him again.
“Stay.”
Despite how improper it was, I wanted to be near him. Wanted to be touching him. I sat. He wrapped an arm around me and tucked me against his side.
“There. That’s better.”
He was so warm and strong I wanted to wrap myself around him and leech comfort like a parasite, but since we were still in public, this would have to do. People were already watching us, no doubt appalled by our display of public affection. We were coming from Bainbridge Island, after all, and the people there had standards. Moronic, lonely, stuffy standards.
“How’re you doing?” Havoc asked.
“You mean other than the fact that I screwed up and threatened to kill my ex at my sister’s wedding? Peachy. Fantastic.” I shook my head. “Still can’t believe I let him bait me like that. I gave him exactly what he wanted.” But, what bothered me the most, is what Wesley had revealed. That he’d plotted against me. Why? If he wanted to end our marriage, he should have said so. Why would he go as far as to sleep with all my old friends? It was like he wanted to push me away. But then he’d mentioned watching me. Why would he push me away only to stalk me? Why wouldn’t the asshole just leave me alone? The shiver I let out this time had nothing to do with the cold.
Havoc squeezed my shoulders. “It’s over. You did great. You held it together and we got the fuck out of there, and that’s all that matters.”
I wasn’t the only one who’d held it together. “Thank you for not grinding his face into the floor. As rewarding as it would be to watch Wesley get his cocky ass handed to him, I’m grateful that you walked away.”
He shrugged. “Like you said… too many witnesses, and I’m trying to stay out of jail.”
Giggling, I relaxed a little more. “I’m done talking about the wedding. Time for a subject change. Now that you’ve met my crazy family, tell me a little about yours.”
Havoc didn’t seem like the sharing type, but he surprised me and opened up about his mom and five sisters that all lived on the east coast. His parents had split when he was in middle school, and he and his sisters had gone back and forth between them until his father died his sophomore year of high school.
“Five sisters,” I said. “I can’t even imagine that. Growing up with Laura was bad enough.”
“Five sisters and one bathroom.” He shook his head. “It was savage.”
One bathroom? I would have
killed Laura for sure. “How did you guys get to school on time?”
“My parents didn’t take any shit. If we acted up, we got the belt. It didn’t stop us from acting up, but we got better about not getting caught.”
My parents had never beat me, preferring to brainwash me and control my life instead. I think I would have preferred to be beaten. “Did you get the belt a lot?”
He nodded. “This’ll probably surprise you, but I had a temper.”
I gasped, pretending to be shocked. “You don’t say?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s not as bad as yours, but it’s significant.”
I elbowed him in the side and he grabbed my arm then trailed his fingers down the back of my hand. The gesture was strangely intimate.
“My sisters would fuck with me until I snapped, then they’d go crying to Dad. But trust me, they gave way better than I did. Half of my scars are from those diabolical little tyrants.”
“And the other scars?” I asked.
His expression darkened, and the arm wrapped around me stiffened. “I don’t talk about those.”
Havoc was a soldier. Although I’d spent the past year battling my inner bitch while keeping my family and ex at bay, I knew it was nothing compared to the kind of combat Havoc had no doubt seen. How many scars had his time in the service given him? How many of those scars were tangible? I wanted to ask, but could tell the topic was off limits and didn’t want him to clam up, so I veered around it.
“What made you enlist in the army?” I asked instead.
“Nine-eleven. The day I watched those planes fly into the twin towers, I knew I would serve. Then I forgot about it and focused on getting through high school. After graduation, I didn’t have many options. Colleges don’t exactly seek out broke inner-city kids, and I didn’t know the first thing about applying for scholarships. Nobody in my family did. Besides, I’d been hangin’ with a pretty rough crowd and was doing some stupid shit to help my mom keep food on the table. Spent a couple nights in juvie my senior year. My grades were good, but with a record… I knew if I didn’t do something to get the fuck out of there, I’d end up in prison.”
There it was again. No games, no lies, no bullshit. Havoc was comfortable enough in his own skin that he could be honest about his life. His mouth was not a bakery, and he laid out the facts raw without any sugar to sweeten them up. He wasn’t trying to impress me. He was letting me see the real him, scars, blemishes, criminal record, and all.
“You said your family is on the east coast. How’d you end up in Seattle?” I asked.
“Link.” He grinned, and an incredible amount of pride shone through his eyes. “That’s my man right there. He’s the president of our motorcycle club and he was my Special Forces commander. No better motherfucker on the planet. He wouldn’t shut up about this club his father had put together—a club for vets who helped other vets—and didn’t give me much choice in the matter.” Havoc chuckled. “He’s one bossy son-of-a-bitch, but I guess that’s what makes him a good president. His logic is solid, and his goals are good, so you find yourself doing whatever you can to help him succeed. He’s the first person I ever met who believes in me. Really believes in me.”
“Sounds like a great guy.”
Havoc squeezed my shoulders again. “The best. But I’ve been wagging my jaw enough. Tell me more about you. Your mom said you had a degree. In what?”
Learning about Havoc was nice, and I wasn’t ready for the conversation to come back around to my disaster of a life. But he’d shared a great deal of personal information, so I relented, willing to do the same. “Psychology. I knew I was screwed up and thought maybe I could fix myself. Instead, it made me better at screwing with other people. Taught me to look for their weaknesses and insecurities so I could better exploit them. Taught me to pay attention to what people don’t say so I know what areas of their lives to poke.”
“Now you have a way to help people, though,” he pointed out.
I stared at him, trying to follow his thinking. “It’s weird how your mind automatically goes there,” I said. “You’re legitimately a good human and it’s so bizarre. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Don’t put me on a pedestal, Jules. I already told you, I’m no saint.” He frowned and looked away, out the window toward the city. “You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve done. Trust me, I’ve got my own demons.”
That might be true, but he was still the best person I’d ever met. And… Jules? What was that about? Nobody had ever given me a nickname before. Well, other than bitch. And in high school, some peon had called me a cunt and then retracted it, insisting I lacked the necessary warmth and depth. That was probably my favorite insult that they used on me. Insults I could handle. Pet names… those were too personal, too casual, too… warm and fuzzy for my comfort. But for some reason, Havoc calling me ‘Jules’ and ‘Babe’ made me want to arch my back, purring as I rubbed against him.
It made me want to be a better person. Someone he could respect and want to be around.
“Regardless, let’s not put me in charge of anyone’s mind,” I said. “At least not until we’re ready to build an army and take over the world.”
He chuckled. “Noted.”
With his arm still around me, we sat in companionable silence for the rest of the trip. By the time we docked and made our way to Havoc’s truck, my buzz had pretty much worn off and I was back to wondering why Wesley had set me up and whether or not he was keeping tabs on me. Even after all this time, he could still weasel his way into my brain and screw with my head, making me feel stupid and vulnerable. I didn’t relish the idea of going back to my lonely apartment to let his words eat away at me until I popped enough sleeping pills to find oblivion.
“You okay?” Havoc asked as he pulled into the parking lot behind my bookstore.
I started to nod, but the look he gave me reminded me of our pact. I wouldn’t lie to him. “I can’t stop thinking about what that vexatious little piss ant said. This entire past year I thought he was the stupid one who’d screwed up. What if I was the stupid one, not even questioning why he pushed me away? I’ve never considered Wesley a threat. With a few well-placed rumors and well-made alliances, I used to be able to take anyone down. But what if he was just playing me the whole time?”
Havoc stared at me for a few minutes before climbing out of his truck and circling around to open my door. He hoisted me down, shut the door, and then leaned me against it. I was trapped between his big hot body and the side of the truck.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said. “Okay?”
Shocked, I stared at him. Kiss me? Uh… “Okay.”
He rested a hand on either side of my head and leaned in. I closed my eyes and welcomed his warm lips. As I opened up to him, his body pressed against me. He stroked the inside of my mouth, silently delivering promises I knew the growing bulge pressed against my stomach could deliver. His big, muscular body surrounded me, overpowering all my thoughts and senses with warmth and want. All I could see, hear, feel, taste, or think about was Havoc, and I reveled in how safe and protected his presence made me feel. But all too soon, he pulled away.
“How’s your mind now?” he asked, pressing his erection harder against me.
All thoughts of Wesley had evaporated in a cloud of need and instinct. “Unnecessary,” I replied. I didn’t need a brain for the things I wanted to do to Havoc. For the things I wanted him to do to me.
“Want me to come up?” he asked with a smirk. If my panties weren’t so damp from his kiss, that sexy, knowing smirk would have set them on fire. His hand cupped the side of my face and his thumb stroked my bottom lip. “I could keep that mind of yours preoccupied.”
Instinct told me I should be playing hard to get or flirting or something, but it was my turn to try this no lies, no games, no bullshit approach. “Yes. I would like that very much.”
Havoc grinned and gave me one more kiss before releasing me and following me into my a
partment. The distance between us cooled down my body, calmed my libido, and jump-started my nerves. Having never been with anyone other than Wesley (and that was over a year ago), I had no clue what to expect. Havoc was little more than a stranger, and probably the closest thing to a real friend I’d ever had. It was a weird combination and I didn’t know how to proceed. I needed his body. The attraction between us was too strong to deny. I wanted to do all the beautiful, dirty things I read about in my romance novels with him, but I also didn’t want this to be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am situation. If I let him fuck me, would I ever see him again?
Could I let him walk out of my life?
The idea of it was staggeringly painful, which made no sense at all. I needed to numb that shitty feeling and muster up some courage, so I headed for the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
“Sure. What do you got?”
Looking over the contents of my refrigerator, I replied, “How about rum and guava?”
“Never had it.”
“It’s like a tropical paradise in your mouth. Complete with sexy pirates, and I’ll decorate it with one of those cute little umbrellas.”
He chuckled. “Babe, I got a rep to uphold. I’ll try the drink, but pass on the pirates and umbrellas.”
“Spoil sport. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a minute.” I pulled glasses out of the cupboard, made us each a drink, sucked down half of mine, refilled it, and headed out to the living room.
Havoc was lounging on my sofa, looking far sexier than any man had a right to. He’d removed his shoes, tie, and shirt, and a tight white tank undershirt was stretched across his impressive pecks and abs in a drool-worthy display of hotness. As I checked him out, he gave me that knowing smirk again.
“You said to get comfortable.”
Yes. Yes, I had, and oh boy was I enjoying the eye candy that request had produced. I handed him his drink and then took another giant gulp of my own before shedding his suit jacket. The liquor was already warming me up and dampening my inhibitions. I slipped off his jacket and hung it over the back of the recliner before sucking down more of my drink.