Chapter 19

NINETEEN

HAVOC

“If that’s everything?” I ask, lingering in the door to Caleb’s office. I’ve been running around all day, delivering things, picking up his dry cleaning, even doing his fucking groceries. I’m pretty sure there are delivery services for that, but I guess I can’t complain, given how much he’s paying me.

Caleb nods absently. “Yes. No, wait.” He looks up from his computer and points to the printer. “Grab those papers. They’re for you.”

I roll my eyes and pick up the printouts—then stop when I see what they are.

Apartment listings.

I leaf through the papers. Each one is within my price range and reasonably close to the casino. Too close to the casino, in fact, given how little they cost.

“What’s this?” I ask. “Are you subsidizing my rent?”

Caleb glances up. “Hmm? No. My sister owns all those properties. I asked which ones she’d be willing to rent out at a reasonable rate to a friend of mine.”

Of course his sister owns a bunch of property in Calamity City. His family owns a large chunk of the city as it is, so I shouldn’t be surprised by all this.

The heat in my chest makes me uncomfortable, though. It’s a mixture of anger and gratitude, and I don’t know what to do with it.

“Are we friends?” I ask sarcastically.

Caleb pauses his work completely and stares at me. “We’re sleeping with the same man. If we aren’t at least on friendly terms, we’ve got a problem.”

Right. We need to be on good terms with each other for Seven’s sake.

I need to not piss him off, or he’ll find a way to cut me out of Seven’s life for good.

“Fine.” I fold up the printouts and stuff them into my jacket pocket. “I’ll take a look. Maybe I’ll find something else.”

I already know that won’t happen. If it were that easy for me to find a place to live, I wouldn’t still be putting up with my stepfather’s bullshit.

My mood sours even more when I think about the yelling that had woken me this morning. He hadn’t known I was in the house, or he wouldn’t have shouted at my mother like that.

Soon, I won’t have to deal with any of that anymore.

“Thanks,” I mumble to Caleb before rushing back out to the main casino.

Now would be a great time to hit the blackjack tables. Or poker. Or even the fucking slot machines. I can make my way to the Palacio Diamante, avoid any ex-friends working there, and maybe get a few hours of gambling in.

I stop when I spot Seven sitting at the bar with a tall, lanky man. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I head over there to see who this person talking to Seven is.

Seven is gesturing animatedly, and when he catches sight of me, he lights up. “Hey, Havoc,” he says, patting the stool next to him. “Come meet Del… I mean, Duncan.”

“Oooh, the infamous Havoc,” Duncan says. “You didn’t mention he was this hot.”

I roll my eyes, but I sit next to Seven. “Hi. You’ve been keeping Seven company today?”

“Since you and Vortex were busy,” Seven gripes.

“Like you haven’t enjoyed my company,” Duncan retorts, taking a sip from his glass.

I feel like I’ve seen Duncan somewhere before, but I can’t place it.

He catches me staring and asks, “What is it, honey? If you want something, you have to ask.”

“Do you work here?” I motion around us. “I thought I knew all the staff. I don’t think I’ve seen you around, but you seem familiar. Which isn’t a pick-up line.”

Seven snorts. “Duncan isn’t staff. He’s part of the Roi’s drag show,” he explains.

“A part? I’m the star !” Duncan says with a dramatic flourish.

Seven nudges him in the side. “That’s what they let you think, Del.”

I smile at the interaction. It’s nice to see Seven being silly like this, even if part of me wishes I had Seven all to myself.

Having friends isn’t a bad thing. If anyone needs them, it’s Seven.

“How’d Nacho do at the vet?” Seven asks me. Before I can respond, he tells Duncan, “Nacho is my cat.”

“The vet said that Nacho was a very good boy,” I tell him, flagging the bartender down so I can get a drink.

“Of course he was,” Seven says. “He is the very best cat ever.”

The words are surprisingly adorable coming from him, even though they’d be cringeworthy coming from anyone else. They make him sound young, though, and I wonder all over again just how old he is.

Duncan smiles indulgently, but I see the look of speculation on his expression, too.

I don’t know anything about Seven’s past. Caleb always avoids answering when I ask if he knows—but the hints of scars I’ve seen on Seven paint a bleak picture.

I want to find whoever hurt him like that and beat them black and bloody.

Maybe I should start with myself, then, since I was the one to choke him and hold him underwater.

Fuck.

“Vortex and I got the new cat tree set up too,” I say, forcing myself to pay attention to the conversation around me. “Nacho loved it… but he loved jumping onto Vortex more.”

Seven grins, completely oblivious to the tone of my thoughts. “Of course he did. He likes Vortex. He especially likes climbing up his legs like he’s the tree. Daddy Dearest loves that,” he tells Duncan.

Daddy .

I’m still not used to Seven calling Vortex that. And I know he calls Caleb Master sometimes, when they think neither me nor Vortex can hear them.

I’m the only one who is closer to nothing to him.

I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the apartment listings. “So, speaking of… not this. I need to move. My current place is a shithole. Which of these looks the most promising?”

I spread them out across the bartop in front of us.

Duncan’s eyebrows go up. “Um, honey, if these are the rent rates you were told, you’re getting scammed. This has to be one of those switcheroo things, where they take your money and ghost you or sell you a total dump instead.”

Seven looks at the listings curiously. “Really? This is too…” He glances between us and continues, “cheap?” His voice is questioning, like he’s unsure that’s the correct answer.

I nod. “Yep. Way too cheap. But that’s just half the rent. I’ve got, um, a friend who’s gonna cover the other half. We’re splitting.”

Caleb will have a field day knowing I called him a friend.

Seven frowns at that, and his voice is even more cautious as he asks, “You’re going to have someone living with you?”

I can’t tell exactly what he thinks of that idea, but I don’t think he likes it. Unfortunately, I can’t tell him the truth while Duncan is sitting right there.

I give Duncan a pointed look. Duncan stares right back, but after a few seconds, he sighs.

“All right, kids, this old queen needs to get set up. At my age, I need a full hour just to grease my joints.”

Seven scoffs at him, but his attention is mostly on me. “You are not that old, Del.”

“But making him pretty sure does take a while,” someone says from not far down the bar.

Great. Someone’s been eavesdropping, obviously. Another queen, from the sounds of it. Duncan flips him off.

“I’ll try to come by tonight,” Seven says, but he’s already edging closer to me.

Duncan leans down to kiss Seven’s cheek. “You know where to find me. I’m here every Thursday through Saturday.”

I put my arm around Seven’s waist and wait for Duncan and the other performers to shuffle out of the bar.

Once they’re gone, I lean closer to Seven. “Nobody’s moving in with me,” I tell him. “I’m getting a good deal from Caleb, but I didn’t want to say that in front of anyone.”

Seven’s smile is blindingly bright. “Yeah? So I don’t have to worry about anyone else swooping in?”

It’s funny that he’s the one who’s worried about having to share me, when I’m already sharing him with two other men.

“No other men for me,” I promise him. I pull him closer to me and take a quick sip of my beer. “Maybe you can help me decorate. What color should I paint my walls? Provided the landlord isn’t an asshole who forbids it.”

Seven’s smile flickers. “Just not green,” he says in a mumble. “I hate green.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping, and he seems distant as he continues, “Not that I’ll ever get to see it. Caleb isn’t gonna let me out of here any time soon.”

I squeeze him tighter. “Yeah, well. He can’t keep you here forever.”

I want to say more, but the relative quiet of the afternoon bar is interrupted by shouting. It’s that asshole Grant, and he’s laying into one of the servers.

“You call this clean?” he shouts, and I watch in disbelief as he grabs the tablecloth and pulls.

All the plates and silverware that were on the table crash onto the floor.

Before I can even react, Seven has wrestled free of my arm and is marching over to them with a thunderous expression on his face. His hands clench tight at his sides, and he snaps, “You can’t treat people like this. Especially not on the floor. Caleb’s?—”

“Caleb is what, you little pissant?” Grant snarls back. “You gonna go tattle to your daddy again?”

“Yes,” Seven says, glaring at him.

Grant makes a grab for him, but before he can touch Seven, I’m right up on him.

I pull on Grant’s shoulder, and when he turns to yell at me, I punch him in the face.

Grant yells and drops to the floor, next to the spilled drinks. While he’s still dazed, I grab him and drag him toward the employees-only section of the bar. He stumbles along, shouting something I can’t hear.

Unlike Vortex, he doesn’t put up much of a fight. I lay into him, beating him bloody against the hallway wall.

I should stop.

I need to stop.

I have a job right now.

I can move into a nicer place soon.

I’ve got friends, maybe.

I have Seven.

But I keep beating on Grant, because fuck this piece of shit for ruining a nice afternoon and taking his insecurities out on one of his workers.

For taking them out on Seven .

“Hey! Hey, Havoc!” Seven is shouting from behind me. I feel a hand on my arm, and I jerk away, but he grabs onto me again. “He’s not worth it! Havoc!”

I don’t immediately register the panic in his voice, but a glance at his face shows me that he’s pale and even downright distraught. For that asshole? It only pisses me off more.

“He fucking deserves it,” I growl, grabbing Seven’s shoulders so I can turn him away. “You know he does. He’s a fucking bully.”

“I know,” Seven says. “But you can’t just beat the shit out of him for being a dick. What if Caleb kicks you out and doesn’t let you come back?”

I freeze.

My hands on Seven’s shoulders are bruised and bloody. I let go abruptly and stare down at my shaking hands.

“I…” I swallow hard and look at Seven. “I don’t want to lose you,” I say hoarsely. “But I can’t… I can’t fucking control myself. When I get angry, and it all comes out, and then I’m hurting people, and…”

“Hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. Just… Breathe.”

I cover my eyes and take a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Seven.”

No fucking wonder everybody else dumped me. No wonder I’m still living with my piece of shit stepfather, because we’re two peas in a pod.

I blink hard and fight against the burn in my eyes.

Seven gets into my personal space and presses his head against my chest. “It’s okay,” he says again, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “He deserved it. Caleb… Caleb will understand.”

I’m not sure he will.

But the idea of someone else hurting Seven was more than I could stand.

I look down at Grant, who is sobbing incoherently.

“Stop fucking bullying people,” I tell Grant darkly. “Or next time, you won’t be lucky enough to have Seven save you.”

Grant immediately starts nodding. “I won’t… I won’t…”

“Come on,” Seven says, tugging at one of my wrists. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll take care of you.” He scowls at Grant. “This was your own fucking fault. And yes, I’m going to go tattle. You should just quit while you’re only a little behind.”

Grant flinches as we walk past him. We take the back exit, and I avoid looking at any of the staff on duty. The freight elevator gets us to the top floor without any interruptions.

Neither of the guards bar my entrance, so I guess Caleb hasn’t heard about what happened yet. I need to take advantage of this before I do get kicked out.

Fuck, I left the apartment listings downstairs.

Seven leads me into his bedroom, where Nacho is napping at the top of the brand new cat tree. He stirs long enough to blink at us before going back to his nap.

Seven smiles absently at him, but his attention is primarily focused on me. “Let’s take care of your hands,” he says. “Then…” His brows furrow. “Then I guess we should probably call Caleb, huh?”

“Shit,” I say. “He’ll regret having hired me now.” Then I laugh. “I told him he’d be the next supervisor I’d beat up. I didn’t factor in Grant.”

Letting out a slow breath, Seven tugs at my wrist again, leading me into the bathroom. He grabs a first aid kit from beneath the sink, starting to assemble supplies with surprising ease.

This piece of the Seven puzzle doesn’t fit, and it’s almost enough to distract me from the fucking mess I’ve made of my life.

Again.

“He was going to put his hands on me,” Seven says pragmatically as he gets me to wash my hands. “He might’ve been the one to beat me down.”

The idea of it sends a dark wave through me, and I itch to go back downstairs and beat Grant up some more.

“Don’t,” he says with surprising authority as he starts to disinfect where the skin has broken and torn around my knuckles. “Grant has been bullying people for long enough to where I don’t think Caleb will be surprised. He…” He frowns. “I don’t know what he’ll do, okay? But I’ll fight for you to stay.”

My eyes start to tear up again.

“Nobody has ever stuck by me,” I whisper.

Seven tenses, but he keeps tending to my hands.

I need him to know though. I need him to understand what this means to me.

“Back in the army—I was stationed at the big army base just a few hours north. Did a rotation in Germany at one point, but I guess there was nothing for us to do, so they sent us back. Anyway. Two years ago.” I let out a bitter laugh. “We got a new superior officer. Captain Polinski. This guy… He was from a big military career family. He wouldn’t shut up about how his grandfather had served during World War 2 and probably saved the entire U-S-fucking-A with some bullshit or other. None of us believed him. Stories are harmless, but this fucker…” I swallow hard. “He had it in for the female privates. Always criticized them. Their hair, their clothes, their bodies. Was extra fucking racist to the ones who weren’t white.”

Seven has gone still, his attention rapt on me. He starts to put ointment on my knuckles, then says quietly, “That had to be hard to sit and watch.”

“Yeah.” I take a breath to steady myself. “We all hated him. We’d all talk about what we would do to him if we could. Everyone agreed that he needed to be taken down a peg.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as the memories come back to me.

“Then one day… It was my friend Anabel. Polinski dressed her down in front of everyone. And then he told her to strip, because he didn’t like the way she was wearing the uniform, or some shit like that, and I just… I fucking snapped. Just months and months of listening to him do this shit, and I’d had enough.

“I beat him down, right there in front of everyone. Nobody tried to stop me. Nobody said ‘enough.’ But when the investigation happened… They all blamed me. Even Anabel denied what Polinski had done.”

Seven’s eyes have gone wide, and he stares at me. “I’m sorry, what?” he asks. “No one said anything? Not one person?”

I shake my head. “Not one of them. Because they knew if they tried to stand with me, they’d just get dragged down too. They didn’t want to lose their pensions or their benefits, however meager they are.” I squeeze my fist together and grimace at the pain. “Anabel told me she hadn’t asked for my help, and that I’d brought it on myself.”

“Well, Anabel was a shit friend,” Seven says, then swats at my hand. “Stop that. I’m not done yet.” He bandages my knuckles with a deft hand, quiet as he seems to mull over what I’ve just told him. “And it happened again? To someone else? Or are you still holding that shit with Polinskin against yourself for whatever fucking reason?”

I glare at him. “What? I got discharged for bad conduct and spent several months in jail. I’m basically unemployable, nobody will rent to me, and I’ve had to live off my mom’s and stepfather’s good graces and my meager gambling earnings for the past few months. And you just fucking saw what happened.”

Seven bites his bottom lip. “I…” He makes a frustrated sound. “I know it’s bad, but it’s not like you’re going around beating random people up. You’re not hurting innocent people like it’s some fucking game.” His lip briefly curls into a sneer before he seems to catch himself. “You fucked up. But it’s not the end. I refuse to let this be the end of… of this. Whatever this is.”

“I guess it depends on how many people snitch this time,” I say, half-joking. Fuck, at least back at the base, it had been just fifteen enlisted in the room with me. This time there are cameras, and witnesses, and guests .

I don’t need a hospitality degree to tell me that this looks bad.

“Everyone’s gonna snitch,” Seven says. “Grant’s probably already dragged himself to Caleb’s office to complain. But it’s fine.” He doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s really fine. “Get your phone and call Caleb. Fuck, we should’ve gone straight there, shouldn’t we?” He sounds even more distraught now than he had when he’d tried to pull me off of Grant to begin with.

He leads me into the bedroom, where I grumble but I take my phone out and start a call to Caleb. I hand the phone to Seven, though, because I have no idea what to say. Seven curls up against my side on the bed while we wait for the call to connect.

Seconds later, we hear it ringing in the living room.

“Yes?” Caleb’s voice says, both through the phone speaker and from the living room, more muffled.

“Are you here?” Seven asks, bewildered.

“I am.” Caleb pushes the door open the rest of the way and leans against the wall, his phone still in hand.

“If you were here all this time, why didn’t you say anything, asshole?” I ask.

Caleb smirks at us. “I arrived twenty minutes ago. You two appeared to be having a heart-to-heart, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Were you eavesdropping?” Seven demands, getting in front of me. “Because that’s fucking rude, Caleb.”

Caleb shrugs. “If the question is whether I heard all the details of your conversation, then the answer is no. I was looking for you, and you were both talking in the bathroom, so I turned around and left.”

For some reason I don’t understand, Seven looks more relieved than I feel by that.

“Grant was gonna grab me, or hit me,” he says without preamble. “Havoc stopped him.”

Caleb shakes his head. “Seven, I told you, that’s not how to negotiate. Don’t offer until somebody asks. What if I didn’t already know there was a problem? You just gave it away.”

Seven glares at him. “I’m not stupid enough to think that Grant didn’t go running right to you about it. There’s no ‘negotiation’ here. Just bullshit.”

“Grant told me nothing, because Grant had to go to the hospital to get his newly bruised face seen to,” Caleb says, and there’s no indication if he’s pissed about that.

Seven frowns at him, crossing his arms against his chest.

Caleb taps on his phone, and a few seconds later my phone dings with a new text. When I don’t move to check, Caleb says, “Go on. Please open the link.”

I sigh and click on the link he sent me.

One second in, I realize what I’m looking at.

It’s a video of Grant yelling at the server. It starts earlier than I even remember Grant speaking. Seven shows up to defend the server, and then I’m there, punching Grant and dragging him off.

“ Holy shit ,” the guy recording the video says. “That’s some motherfucking justice. ”

The video ends there.

Seven scowls at Caleb. “There you have it. It’s motherfucking justice .”

I think it’s more like I’m beating up an older guy, but I guess I’ll take some random guest’s approval.

“Now, Grant knows that the Roi de Pique hates to inconvenience our upstanding police force, so he will not be pressing charges.” Caleb sighs loudly. “Thankfully the video doesn’t show your face, and Grant does not have the kinds of connections that would make this more inconvenient. Please don’t do it again, or if you do, make sure there are no cameras.”

“I dragged him out of sight,” I point out, baffled and defensive all at once.

“As my grandfather says, there are miles and miles of desert around us. Just drag your enemies there and leave them to die like a normal person.” Caleb smiles. After a beat, he adds, “That was a joke.”

“So… You aren’t getting rid of Havoc?” Seven asks with cautious optimism in his voice. “And Grant’s going to stop abusing the staff?”

“Grant will think long and hard about how he treats others while he recovers,” Caleb says. “Or, I assume so. I’m not visiting him in the hospital. What I do know is that I am now down a general manager, so Havoc had better be able to keep you entertained, Seven, while I find someone to fill in for him for the duration of his recovery.”

“You already have someone,” Seven says. “Vortex.” He pauses, then says, “Wait. If Vortex does that, I have to see him less, too, huh. Never mind.”

I’m still so confused about everything.

“You’re supposed to be horrified,” I say. “Fire me. Send me packing.”

Seven elbows me in the gut. “Havoc! Shut up!”

“Havoc, I did read the background check.” Caleb walks over and perches himself on the edge of the bed. “I am fairly sure you know the rumors about the Roi de Pique and my family. Nothing you’ve done is anywhere near the worst I’ve seen. So long as you work on the proper time and place—and don’t take your aggressions out on people integral to my business—I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

“What rumors?” Seven asks, looking between us.

Caleb meets my gaze, and I can see the dare in his eyes.

I pull Seven closer to me. “Don’t you know? Calamity City is run by four gangster families. And Caleb’s granddaddy used to be the biggest gangster of them all.”

Seven shudders, pressing in closer to my side. I realize he’s shaking, and I wrap my arm tightly around him. “Oh.” He looks at Caleb, something like pleading in his voice as he asks, “Is it true?”

“It is,” Caleb answers, his voice gentle. “It does give me vast resources… including ones that could keep a pretty little kitten hidden away, well away from whatever monsters are chasing it.”

Seven flinches, and I wonder all over again about his past.

Who’s chasing him? And why?

Neither of them gives me an answer, though. Seven only nods—but he stays by my side instead of Caleb’s.