I did know Jackson. Psycho drug dealer. “Fuck, King. Jackson’s a crazy motherfucker.”
He sighed. “You’re 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 these days 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 this morning. Thankfully it had eased somewhat but the headache 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 when he found out, and 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 pissed 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 to me how to 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 it.
He jabbed a finger in the air at me. “I know Havoc, and I know he is not the man for you. Fuck, Carla, how the hell did you even get messed up with him?”
“I met him at a bar. The rest is history.” I wasn’t going to detail it for him.
“And so you’re dating him now? I didn’t think Havoc was the kind of man to date after all the shit that went down with his ex.”
I was clueless about his ex; it wasn’t something we’d ever discussed. It wasn’t something I was interested to know. And we sure as hell weren’t dating. “Nash, we’re not dating, it’s just sex.”
His eyes were wild. “Good. So you will stop seeing him then?”
“Give me one good reason why I should,” I challenged him even though I really had no intention of giving up sex with Havoc; it was too damn good to give it up.
He glared at me. It looked like he was weighing something up in his mind. “Havoc would kill you without even thinking twice about it. It’s not safe for you to be around him.”
I should have felt shock. His words should have scared the shit out of me, but they didn’t. I’d sensed that about Havoc; knew there was something dark lurking inside him. And yet, I wasn’t scared by him. I felt the opposite when I was with him. I felt safe.
The world stilled as I locked eyes with my brother. We were about to take part in the biggest battle we’d ever had. I wasn’t giving Havoc up; not yet. Eventually I would, when he left town, but not until then. “I’m not going to stop seeing him, Nash,” I said, firmly.
His eyes bulged out of his head, and the veins in his neck popped. “Fuck!” He turned, and hit the wall behind him. When he looked back at me, it was with a determined look on his face. “You will fuckin’ stop seeing him; I will make sure of it one way or another,” he roared, and then stalked out of the house, slamming the front door on his way.
Shit.
Nash had a temper, but I hadn’t seen him that angry for a long time. I had no idea what he planned to do to stop me seeing Havoc, but it pissed me off that he was going to interfere.
My phone rang, and I snatched it up, hoping it was Havoc; I needed to hear his voice right now. “Hello?”
“Hello. Carla?”
I didn’t recognisethe voice. “Speaking.”
“Hi, it’s Justin from the Coffee Club calling back about the interview you attended yesterday. I just wanted to let you know you were unsuccessful. And we wish you all the best in your job hunting.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, dejectedly, and hung up.
It was the fifth interview I’d gone to in the last week and they’d all rejected me. I was beginning to think I’d never get another job. I slumped into the chair in front of me, and put my head down on the table. Perhaps I could just block the world out and pretend my life wasn’t falling to bits. And perhaps pigs would fucking fly.
“Carla!”
More banging on the front door, only this time I was happy to hear Havoc’s voice.
“Come in,” I yelled out, not moving out of my seat. Nope, I’d decided to stay in my own little pity party bubble for now.
I heard his heavy boots coming down the hall, and my body tingled with anticipation. Hell yes, Havoc would make it all better; make me forget for a couple of hours at least. When he stopped in the kitchen doorway a moment later, the look on his face told me something was wrong, and my tummy sank.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I took a deep breath. Without moving out of my chair, I said,“Sure. Why not. You may as well add to the bad in my life,” I muttered.
Frowning at me, he asked,“What’s happened now?”
I was drunk on disappointment, and didn’t hold back. “Well, my brother’s trying to control my life, telling me what I can and can’t do, and then I found out I didn’t get yet another fucking job. Add those to the other shit happening in my life, and let’s just say, I’m over it. Out. Had e-fucking-nough. So hit me, Havoc. Tell me your news.” I gestured with my hands for him to carry on.
He stood staring at me, not saying a word. I returned his stare, waiting.
Nothing. He said nothing. But the air in the room had changed. Something new thrummed between us. A need. A want. It vibrated around us, pulling at us to acknowledge it.
“I’ve got to go to Sydney for awhile,” he said, and then added,“Come with me.” His eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t sure of what he was saying.
My breathing sped up. I didn’t want to admit even to myself that I wanted this. I shook my head at him. “You don’t want me tagging along, Havoc.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want it.”
My mind felt like it was spinning inside my head. I was going to do this. After living my life up until now to a plan, I was going to throw it all out the window and pursue this. I was going to see where it took me. I was going to follow a fucking biker to another city, to hell with the consequences.
****
Havoc
What the fuck was coming out of my mouth? Come with me?
Fuck.
But I couldn’t deny this pull to Carla any longer. I wanted her, simple as that. I didn’t know where the hell this would lead, if anywhere, but I fucking wanted her. That truth was inescapable.
She stood and smiled at me. “Okay, I’ll go with you. One condition though.”
Of course she had a fucking condition; she wouldn’t be her without that. “I don’t do conditions, Carla. Either you’re coming or you’re not.”
That fucking sexy grin of hers spread across her lips. That grin would be the death of my dick. “Oh, you’re gonnalove this condition, Havoc.”
“Jesus, woman. Just fuckin’ spit it out.”
She moved into my personal space, curled her hand around the back of my neck, and pulled my face close so she could whisper in my ear. “Somewhere between Brisbane and Sydney, you’re going to fuck me on your bike. Otherwise, I’m not going.”
My hand shot straight out and roughly gripped her neck. “It’s a fu
ckin’ deal, baby.”
As I agreed to her condition, I prayed to a God I didn’t believe in that this decision and this woman wouldn’t ruin me in the same way the last woman I’d let in had.
COMING SOON
Destined Havoc Part 2
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Waiting on Walker
By Casey Peeler
Copyright © 2014 Casey Peeler
All rights reserved.
This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The author recognizes all copyright and trademarks that are mentioned within this work of fiction.
Prologue
Chauna
“Bye, Daddy!” I yell as Walker and I walk out the front door on a hot summer Saturday night in Barber. As soon as we get outside, he grabs me and pushes me against the side of the house. Oh my lawd. This boy has me begging for him already.
Trying my best to get myself together, I push him off, even though I don’t want to. But, if my daddy walks out here, we’re both dead.
“Walker, you better stop, or we’re both gonna be naked, and Daddy’s gonna kill us.” A huge grin escapes his lips before he kisses me long and hard once more and then pulls me toward his Harley-Davidson Softail Custom Night Train. I love that bike. Well, more like who’s riding it. He smirks at me as we put on our helmets and make our way down the driveway.
With the warm summer air brushing against my skin, I hold my arms tighter around Walker’s rock hard body. At the age of eight, he rode into my life, and at the age of fifteen, I trusted him with my heart and soul.
As we approach Sammy’s Drive-In, our local country hangout, trucks, cars, and anything with two or four wheels lines the parking lot. After Walker pulls in, we remove our helmets, and I run my fingers through my long hair. He helps me from the bike and laces his fingers in mine as we see Kristina and our other friends hanging out on the picnic table.
“Hey, girlie! What’s up?” she says.
“Not much,” I say as Walker gives Paul, her flavor of the week, a head nod. Walker takes a seat on top of the picnic table, and I wedge myself between his legs. We spend this Friday night laughing, acting like the crazy teenagers we are, and falling deeper and deeper in love with each other.
When Walker’s had enough sharing me with the others, we make our way back to his bike and take a ride to our spot. I continue to get butterflies, just like the first time we rode out here. Walker finds the small dirt trail, and we ride until we reach the old fishing hole. It’s now just a little stream, and that’s why no one comes here anymore. There’s no reason, but for Walker and me, we have every reason. Us.
Walker turns off the bike, and as he begins to step off, I grab the back of his t-shirt and pull him back in place. “Stay right there,” I whisper as I toss my leg over the bike and make my way to the front of it. “Slide back,” I state. He does as I ask with a sly half-grin covering his face. I straddle the bike, facing him and tossing my legs over his.
“Damn, Pumpkin, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he says roughly.
“Sexy, huh?” I ask, as I waste no time. I capture his lips, and his hands begin to discover my body, yet again. I raise my arms as he removes my tank top and kisses my neck, treating me like his Cinderella.
Walker and I get lost in each other, and I can’t get close enough to him. Each time we are in this spot, we go further and further. It didn’t take long for both of us to lose our virginity, and now, we can never get enough.
Unclasping my thin lacy bra, he stares in amazement. I giggle, but when Walker pulls his shirt over his head, my giggling stops. I could stare at that perfect body every day of my life. From that point on, we can’t get close enough, and before long, we are lying beside the creek bed, completely exposed for the world to see. I don’t care who’s watching, though, because as long as I have Walker Bentley beside me, I’m unstoppable.
“Pumpkin, I love you,” he says as he looks into my eyes.
“I love you more,” I declare as I kiss his lips tenderly. “But, you better get me home before Daddy sends an army looking for us.”
“You know, he’s not home from Boondocks yet, but you’re right. We better get a move on,” he says as his firm body attacks mine again.
During the entire ride to the house, I replay the last two hours. How did I get so lucky to find my soul mate? Walker isn’t just a boy; he is my reason to breathe. With only the front porch light on, I know Daddy’s not home yet. Walker doesn’t come inside. Instead, we make out on his bike, and then I peel myself away. He smacks me on the rear, and I glance over my shoulder, smiling.
Daddy should be home soon, so I decide to stay up and watch a movie until he gets home from Boondocks. I grab a carton of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and watch Hope Floats in my room.
As a hard knock attacks my front door, I hurry downstairs. I open it to see two police officers. “Is Chauna Jackson here?”
“That’s me,” I say while pulling the spoon out of my mouth from the last bite and suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
“Your father was in an accident tonight. I’m sorry, but you need to get to the hospital as fast as possible.” In that moment, my world stops. “Would you like us to take you?”
“Please,” I say as tears begin to pour down my face. I take my cell phone from my pocket and call Walker, but he doesn’t answer. Where is he? He just left here an hour ago. As my world crumbles, Walker is nowhere to be found.
Chapter 1
Thirteen Years Later
Chauna
“Hey, Paige, I’m gonna grab another case of Bud Light!” I holler to her at the other end of the bar. She tosses her head back as she grabs a bucket and begins to fill it with Miller High Life. I hurry downstairs and look at the cases before bending down to grab the box. Damn this hair, I think as I blow it out of my face and stand with the box.
As I make my way upstairs with the box of beer, I hear the rumble of motorcycles approaching. Great! Here’s to a night of men in their forties hitting on Paige and me.
Boondocks is where I have worked since the day I was old enough to serve beer. Living in the little town of Barber, there aren’t many options for careers, but for me, this has been what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. Little did I know my little country dream was full of drunken old men, skank hos, and the regulars I can’t help but love. Those seem to be more frequent than no
t lately, but growing up, it was the Friday night house band that brought me here. Because for me, this is where I got to see my daddy play.
Reaching the bar, I heave the box on top of the counter and begin to fill the cooler. “Holy freakin’ hell, Chauna,” Paige says like she’s seen a ghost. Glancing up, I try to see what has caught Paige’s attention. My eyes catch a new rider in town, but when I look into those mysterious hazel eyes, my heart begins to beat rapidly. Walker Bentley has just ridden his way back into town. I try to push aside my feelings, but when his eyes lock on mine, I’m unable to pull away. Instead, I remember.
“Stop, Walker!” I squeal as he pushes me off the tire swing straight into the water below. When I come up for air, he is horse laughing at me. I want to pout, but I don’t. I swim to the bank, shimmy out of my cutoffs and tank, and jump back in, leaving him hurrying to do the same.
Gosh, I loved that boy. Walker was more than my best friend, and when I was sixteen years old, my best friend and soul mate rode away.
I break away from his eyes and go back to work. As he nears the bar with the rest of his gang, I try to ignore him. Don’t look. Don’t look. How can I not look? Tight-fitted t-shirt with those arm muscles bulging, and oh, those eyes. I’m in heaven and sixteen again. Looking into those eyes is dangerous, and I should know. Those eyes brought me happiness when I was a little kid, made me fall fast and hard in love, and then was gone. Just like that. He. Was. Gone.
Walker’s not who he used to be; his face is rough and tells a story. His physique is jagged in all the right areas, but more importantly, he’s been living a lifestyle in which I don’t approve. He’s in an MC gang, and I want nothing to do with that.
Moving as slowly as possible, I hope and pray that Paige will take their orders. Shit! She’s not! Damn her! Glancing her way, I give her a sarcastic smirk, toss my towel over my shoulder, and walk toward him.
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