Havoc (Storm MC #8)

by Nina Levine

  I directed my attention back to her. “Let me make something clear,” I barked. “The day you fucked me over was the day my dick decided not to dance with you again. You need to take your bony-ass home and never fuckin’ set foot near me again. Whatever you think is gonna happen between us, isn’t.”

  “But—”

  I cut her off. “But fuckin’ nothing, Kelly. You had your shot at me and you fucked it. Now fuck off before I do something I’ll regret.” My tone was feral; she brought out the worst in me and I was helpless to control it. I slammed the door in her face and stalked back into the house. When I hit the kitchen, I punched my fist down onto the kitchen bench.

  “Fuck!” I bellowed to the empty room. “Fuck!”

  * * *

  Four hours later, I was roaming around Dad’s house at a loss. I couldn’t fucking get Carla out of my head.

  Jesus.

  Not since Kelly had a woman consumed my thoughts like she did. In honesty, she consumed my thoughts more. I didn’t want this, but I had to see her. My sanity was at risk if I didn’t.

  I called her and was surprised she answered on the second ring. “What do you want, Havoc?” She sounded resigned, defeated.

  “What’s wrong?” Even my concern for her was a foreign feeling to me, but I couldn’t stop the words falling out of my mouth.

  “I’m at work and I’m having a shitty day with my boss. And you and I really need to stop whatever this is. You obviously have something going on with that other woman and I’m not interested in getting between that.”

  “Fuck, babe. If you’d just let me explain this morning, you’d know that woman is my ex and not a woman I ever want to see again. As for your boss, what's he doing?”

  She was quiet for a moment before responding, “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.”

  “Sorry, I should have waited.” Her voice was quiet, hesitant.

  “Yeah, you should have. But it’s done now.” I was shocked as shit. I’d expected her to drag this out like women tended to do. The fact she didn’t made me want her even more.

  “I’m on my lunch break and it’s just about to end so I’ve gotta go.”

  “Tell me where you work. I’ll come and see you at the end of your shift.”

  “Gossip Café. You know it?”

  “Yes, what time do you finish?”

  “Three.”

  “I’ll be there,” I promised and hung up.

  * * *

  Two hours later, I entered Gossip Café, and my gut tightened when I caught sight of Carla at a table in the back. I was an hour early but I couldn’t stay away any longer. She finished with her customers and walked my way. When she saw me, she faltered, and slowed. I didn’t take my eyes off her. Even surrounded by the busy hum of a full café and distractions everywhere, all I saw was her. She was fucking beautiful. Dressed in black pants and top with flour marks down them, her long brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail with strands falling out, and a frazzled look on her face, she was perfect in her imperfection.

  She kept walking my way, her focus solely on me, but suddenly her attention diverted to some customers and she ceased movement. I narrowed my eyes to take it all in.

  “Sir, what is the matter here?” she asked a guy who glared at a woman who sat on her own.

  His angry eyes shifted to Carla, and he jerked his thumb at the lone woman. “This dyke is making my woman uncomfortable by staring at her, and I’ve had enough.”

  The lone woman stood up, anger etched on her face also, but before she could respond, Carla spoke. “I think it’s pretty damn rude of you to use language like that,” she said to the guy.

  “I don’t give a shit what you think, bitch. I just want this fucking lesbian to take her eyes off my woman.”

  This dickhead had overstepped all boundaries now, and I moved towards them, ready to kick his ass. Carla kept talking, impressing the shit out of me. “Number one, you don’t call me a bitch and get away with it, asshole. Number two, you don’t diss lesbians and get away with it. And number three, did you ever stop to consider that perhaps this lady wasn’t looking at your woman? Perhaps she was looking past your woman.”

  The woman he was referring to as a lesbian piped up. “Thanks, but I can stand up for myself,” she said to Carla, and then looked at the asshole. “I wasn’t looking at your woman. I was actually checking out the chick behind her, dude. Your woman isn’t my type.”

  Carla grinned. “Great.” She turned to the guy. “So you can sit your judgemental ass down and leave this lady in peace.”

  He glared at her. “Not before I complain to your boss.”

  Carla waved her hand in the air at him. “Do what the fuck you want, dickhead. If he listens to you, then he’s not the kind of man I want to work for anyway.”

  With that, she turned and headed over to where I stood. She didn’t look happy.

  “I’ll probably get fired for that,” she said, dropping her head down and shaking it before looking back up at me. Tiredness lurked in her eyes.

  “Maybe you’d be better off not working for him if he fires you over that.”

  Nodding, she agreed. “Only problem is that I need the money.”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure you could get another waitressing gig.”

  Her lips pursed together and she sighed. Running her hand through her hair, she asked, “Why does life have to be so damn hard sometimes?”

  Before I could answer that, her boss bellowed out, “Carla! My office now.”

  “Fuck,” she muttered, and then added, “Yep, he’s gonna get rid of me. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  I figured she knew what she was on about so I waited outside for her. She didn’t take long, joining me a couple of minutes later. Disappointment was etched on her face as she said, “Get me out of here, Havoc. Take me far, far away.”

  In that moment, the barriers I had built began to wash away. I’d decided a long time ago that I didn’t want any fucker getting close to me anymore; didn’t want them to have any power over me and I certainly didn’t want to help them deal with the shit in their lives. After wanting so much in life, and losing everything I’d worked hard for years ago, all I wanted these days was the shirt on my back and my bike. Yet, Carla standing before me, with a wearied and beaten aura to her, threatened to rip my barriers down.

  Against all my better judgements, and against the voice screaming out No in my mind, I nodded, got on my bike and told her to get on behind me. Pulling her hands around my waist tightly, I said, ‘Hope you’re up for a long ride, darlin’, because that’s the only way I know to get rid of the shit in your head.”

  7

  Carla

  We’d been riding for probably close to an hour and a half when Havoc pulled off the road and cut the engine. We were somewhere in the Sunshine Coast hinterland, and the café he’d stopped at looked inviting. I was a little cold because I hadn’t dressed for the cooler air in the mountains, so the warmth that hit me as we entered was welcome.

  “What do you want to drink?” Havoc asked.

  “Coffee, white with one please. And cake. I need cake.” I was firm. Cake always made me feel better.

  He chuckled. “What kind of cake, babe?”

  I licked my lips thinking about it. “White chocolate mud cake if they have it. But if not, anything will do so long as there are no sultanas or fruit in it.” I pointed at him sternly. “If you bring me back fruit cake of any kind, there will be hell to pay.”

  His face broke out in a huge grin and my stomach did somersaults. I’d never seen Havoc smile. Not once. In fact, until that moment, I’d never heard him laugh or even chuckle. I liked it, a lot. He turned me around and smacked me on the ass before placing his hands on my shoulders and whispering in my ear, “Go and sit this gorgeous ass down and I will bring you cake that doesn’t contain any fuckin’ fruit. Trust me, sweetheart, the last thing I want to do is incur your wrath.”

  Warmth spread through me. This was a side of Havoc that I
really liked. I did what he said, and checked out the café while I waited patiently for him. It was a country-style café with lots of wood, and a potbelly fire burning in the corner. No wonder it was so warm inside. Nearly every table was occupied and people were laughing and enjoying themselves. The staff seemed chirpy too. I bet they had a brilliant boss.

  Just as I was about to wallow in self-pity about the turn my life had taken this week, Havoc pulled up a seat and sat with me. I looked at him, and enjoyed the thrill that ran through me at the sight. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I said, the words spilling out of me before I could censor them. Censoring and me didn’t really go hand–in-hand so I was used to saying shit I shouldn’t, and rarely got embarrassed because of it.

  He laid a sexy grin on me. “You just say what you’re thinking, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, one of my many good traits,” I said with a wink.

  His grin turned into a laugh. “I’d have to agree with you there, babe. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she believes and isn’t afraid to say it.”

  I leant forward and asked, “What cake did you get me?”

  “Well, it sure as shit wasn’t fruitcake, but I think I’ll make you wait until they bring it out.”

  “You’re playing with me now, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. He then leant forward too, and added, “Playing with you is fast becoming one of my favourite activities.”

  Fuck.

  Talk about desire hitting all points in my body at once. This man had it going on, and I was sure I might burst into flames from the heat surrounding us.

  I gathered my wits and said, “You’re a smooth talker, Havoc. I bet you have no trouble scoring wherever you go.”

  He shifted back in his chair, his gaze stuck on mine. The depth in his eyes got to me. Havoc was not a shallow man—of this I was sure. He nodded slowly, contemplating what I’d said. “You’re right. I have no trouble in that department. But, babe, I don’t say yes very often.”

  I wasn’t able to hide my surprise. “What? You knock back sex?”

  “Yeah.”

  I settled into my chair, enjoying this conversation because it was giving me a small glimpse at who he was. “Okay, so how often do you have sex?”

  “I don’t fuckin’ count it, Carla. My point is that it takes a lot for a woman to interest me. I don’t just fuck someone because they’ve got a good set of tits or a hot ass. There has to be something more for me. Something to the woman.”

  I let his words settle over me and soaked them in. Because what he’d just given me was a huge compliment. It made me feel good about myself, and I desperately needed that after this week.

  While I processed that, he changed the subject. “Tell me why you’re so down.”

  I expelled a long breath. “Do we have to talk about me? I’d rather talk about you. That’s so much more interesting.”

  The waitress brought our coffee and cake at that moment, and I smiled at him when I saw what he’d ordered. “Wow, and you project such a badass image, Havoc. Who would have thought?” He’d ordered me a small piece of every type of cake they had except for fruitcake. There must have been six different mini cakes sitting in front of me.

  “Shut up and eat, woman,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with my backhanded compliment.

  I laughed, but did as he said. My mind spun in a million different directions. He’d managed to confuse me all over again. I’d kind of been relieved when his ex had turned up. I’d thought it was a woman he had something going on with and that thought helped me at the time to make a decision to cut and run. It was the decision I’d been trying to make where he was concerned, but I’d been having trouble following through. Since knowing who she was, and after he’d treated me to this other side of him, I was back to being confused.

  We ate and drank in silence for a few moments. The cakes were so damn delicious, and I devoured them quickly. He smirked at that, and said, “I take it they were good?”

  As I finished the last piece, I looked up at him, and answered, “They were divine. This café needs to be added to my 'favourite places to visit' list. Thank you.”

  “Now you owe me.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I can only imagine how you plan to exact payment.”

  Pinning me with his stare, he said, “As payment, I want to hear what’s causing you grief.”

  I took a deep breath. “Fine. If you must know, I failed my semester at college, so when you add that to the fact I lost my job, it’s been a shit week.”

  “The teacher you refused to sleep with actually failed you?”

  “Yes.”

  His face clouded over with anger. “What’s his name?”

  I didn’t know Havoc well, but I knew it would be a bad idea to give him my teacher’s name. Nash would just hurt him a little if I let him loose on the guy. I hazarded a guess that Havoc would do a lot worse than that. If the club sent him to take care of problems, I could only imagine what that entailed.

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’m not giving you that.”

  I watched as his chest rose and fell in a pissed-off, jerky movement. It appeared as if he was fighting to control his anger. “I’ll get that name, sweetheart. It’d just be a lot easier if you gave it to me.”

  I scowled. “No, Havoc, I don’t need you to fight my battles. Do not pursue this.” My voice was firm, but I doubted he was the kind of man to listen.

  “That asshole needs to learn a lesson. Manipulating women into sex is disgusting. I hope you’ve reported him.”

  There was no way he was letting this go; I knew that in my gut. “Havoc, I’m being dead serious when I say I don’t want you anywhere near this. I’ll get my brother to sort him out.”

  He stood abruptly. “We need to go,” he commanded in that domineering voice of his that I hated to love.

  Without waiting for me, he stalked out to his bike. I followed him, annoyed. When I caught up with him, I demanded, “What the hell’s gotten into you? I still had coffee to drink.”

  Pulling me close, he rasped, “Listening to you try to boss me around turns me on. And, babe, what I want to do to you will give you more fuckin’ pleasure than coffee, but if you still want coffee once I’m finished, I’ll damn well go out and buy it for you.” He stopped for a moment and stared at me. “Now, are we good to go?”

  Damn, I liked the way he thought. “Yes, Havoc, we’re good to go.”

  8

  Havoc

  It had been four days since Dad came home from hospital and he was finally starting to get on my nerves. This was how our relationship had always been though, so I’d been waiting for it. He was feeling better so that was a plus. The doctors had given him a stent and I was hoping there wouldn’t be a repeat of this because staying in Brisbane for an extended time wasn’t high on my list of things to look forward to. On the other hand, staying meant seeing Carla again and that ranked highly on my list. Sex with her was the best sex I’d ever had, and I’d miss it when I left.

  I was helping Dad sort out his medication when my phone rang. Checking the caller ID, I was surprised to see it was King. The President of Sydney Storm. Not a man I dealt with often, but when he called, I answered.

  “King,” I said into the phone, leaving Dad to his medicine. This wasn’t a call he needed to hear. The kind of jobs King called on me for weren’t jobs anyone needed to know about.

  “Havoc. Got a problem and we need you to take care of it.”

  “Figured, brother. Where?”

  “Sydney. It’s that idiot you dealt with two weeks ago.”

  “What? He owes you more money?”

  “No, turns out the asshole is cousins with one of our suppliers who is now threatening to cut us off. It’s Jackson Jones. The boys tell me you know him well so I thought you might be able to help us out.”

  I did know Jackson. Psycho drug dealer. “Fuck, King. Jackson’s a crazy motherfucker.”

  He sighed. “You’r
e telling me, brother. Can you be here in a couple of days or sooner?”

  “Yeah, I’ll leave tonight, and ride straight through. See you tomorrow.”

  “Good,” he said, and hung up.

  I shoved my phone in my pocket, and then pulled it straight back out to send Carla a text.

  Me: You home?

  Carla: Yeah.

  Me: See you in an hour.

  Carla: Fuck yeah.

  I smiled and put my phone back away, not sure I could last an hour. The bulge that seemed to live in my pants thanks to her might well cause me to head over sooner.

  * * *

  Carla

  “Carla!” Nash yelled out from the front door.

  Bloody hell, I had the headache of all headaches, and his yelling was only going to make it worse. Velvet and I had gone out drinking last night, and I’d ended up with a hangover from hell. Thankfully the headache had eased somewhat but it still lingered.

  I didn’t bother answering him; he’d find me.

  A minute later, he appeared in the kitchen, a scowl covering his face.

  I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Havoc fuckin’ Caldwell. That’s what’s wrong,” he thundered.

  Shit.

  I figured he’d be pissed if he found out. Hence, I hadn’t told him, but the anger rolling off him was far worse than I’d imagined. I put down the dish I was washing up, and gave him my full attention. “He told you?”

  “No he fuckin’ didn’t. Velvet spilled it by accident when she got home drunk last night. You’ve got no clue who you’re dealing with there, and you need to call whatever it is you’ve got going, off.”

  I raised my brows. “Oh, really? Do I? And what gives you the right to dictate how I live my life?” This was a common argument with us; Nash had spent my entire life telling me how to live it and I was sick of him interfering.