Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Nevaeh

T he guy backed when he saw Havoc, which made me grin. Havoc clearly isn’t the man they remember––everyone looks wary of him.

And honestly, they should be. What they did to him was horrible. Khan forcing him to take the fall for his brother was one thing. His brother being the absolute douchecanoe that he is, is another. But what the rest of them did…

It makes me think of high school when someone’s being bullied and everyone just looks the other way. Them not stepping up makes them part of the problem. Their lack of accountability almost makes it seem like it’s okay.

Oh, I’m sure they have their excuses. They always do. No one ever wants to admit they’re a shitty person.

I wonder what people like that see when they look in the mirror. Does guilt and shame cloud their reflections? Maybe their images are warped and twisted like in a funhouse mirror. It would certainly match their morals, that’s for sure.

Not that I’m one to talk about morals. I’m standing outside the house Havoc shared with his ex, feeling almost gleeful that she’s been kicked out. It’s petty, I know, but it feels like the least she deserves.

I stand beside him, holding his hand, as we look up at the small two-story house. “We can stay in a hotel if you want.”

He tightens his grip on my hand and leads me up the steps, past the pretty flower border that someone had spent a lot of time and care nurturing. I can’t see Driller doing it. He seems more like a beer-and-a-ball game kind of guy. So, I let go of Havoc’s hand and stomp all over the flowers as I walk up to the house, the guys laughing behind us

Yeah, it’s childish, but I don’t feel guilty about it.

Havoc waits for me by the door, a smile on his face. “How is it you manage to take a shitty day and make it somehow brighter?”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I reply, flashing a grin.

He bends down and kisses me. “That you are.” He opens the door and leads us inside, taking me straight to the living room.

It’s bigger than I thought it would be, with a couple of large, comfy-looking sofas and a huge TV mounted on the wall. A dining table sits at the far end of the room, and just beyond that is a small bookcase with a chair beside it, next to the window that overlooks the backyard.

“Jesus, it looks exactly the same. I thought Driller would have done something to it just to piss me off.”

“That probably required effort, and he looks like a lazy pig to me,” I grumble.

“You want us to crash here with you, Pres, or get a motel?”

I turn at the sound of Kruger’s voice.

“I want you to stay even though it won’t be comfortable. I don’t trust anyone here but you guys.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’d only worry if we left anyway,” Mac says as he throws himself down onto the sofa.

“Let me go see if I can find some blankets.” I pull free from Havoc’s hold despite his protest. “I’m not leaving the house. Chill.”

Toot laughs. “Only you, Tinkerbell, would tell the president to chill.”

“Well, he’s not my president,” I remind him, calling over my shoulder as I leave the room to their teasing and head upstairs.

The first door opens to a small bathroom, so I don’t bother checking it and move on. The next leads to a small room that most people would use as an office, and maybe once upon a time, it had been. Now, the room’s empty while the walls are being painted a sunny yellow. It’s a special kind of cruel to decorate a room in the house that belongs to your ex for a baby that should have been his.

I close the door harder than necessary, angry at Lola all over again. She didn’t say a word to me at the clubhouse, which surprised me. I figured she’d be loud and opinionated, trying to put me in my place, but no. She never even looked at me. She just sat quietly in the corner, pretending she didn’t notice me, just like I did to her.

Then again, I have Crane watching me. If she had approached, Crane would have shut her down before she got even a couple of words out.

I walk farther down the hall and open the next door. As soon as it swings wide, I freeze in the doorway, realizing this is the main bedroom.

I don’t consider myself a jealous person, or at least I haven’t before. Maybe that was because I didn’t care enough about someone to stir up those feelings. Now, though, the thought of Lola and Havoc rolling around on that bed once upon a time makes me want to take a knife to the sheets and a match to the wooden bedframe.

It might not be rational. Their relationship was dead long before I came along, but it doesn’t stop the twisted thoughts from running through my head. I’m not an idiot. As much of a bitch as she’s been, there is no denying how beautiful she is. I could easily picture her and Havoc together. But if she’s his type, why the heck is he with me?

I blow out a frustrated sigh, snapping at myself to not be that girl. The one who compares herself to others just to highlight my flaws.

Looking around the room, I spot a chest at the end of the bed. I walk over and open it, expecting to find blankets, but instead, I find baby clothes––a few plain white onesies, a couple of knitted hats, and a pair of tiny booties. My heart squeezes as I close the lid and move to the dresser to search through the drawers.

I can’t imagine what this must feel like for Havoc. Even if all the love between them is gone, it still has to hurt that she cares so little for him that she is now growing his brother’s kid.

The drawers and closet don’t reveal any blankets either. What I do find is a lack of clothing. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few pairs of jeans and some T-shirts, a pair of motorcycle boots in the closet near the back, a fur-lined winter jacket, and a few thermal shirts. As most of its men’s clothing, I assume they belong to Driller.

Either Driller doesn’t own a lot of shit, or there is trouble in paradise. That’s the thing about the grass looking greener on the other side––people expect it to be the same for them, too. They never think about the work it takes to keep it that way. Without the effort, the green fades, and what once thrived withers and dies.

Part of me feels vindicated that whatever Lola shares with Driller is nothing like she had with Havoc–– or what I have with him. But the other part feels sad for the kid. No matter what happens, that baby will still be Havoc’s niece or nephew. I don’t want them to suffer because the adults in their lives made foolish choices and are now facing the consequences.

Not bothering to figure out where Lola keeps her clothes, I leave the bedroom and head down to the last door and finally find what I’m looking for. There aren’t many, but it’s better than nothing. I grab the blankets and a couple of pillows from the top shelf before heading back downstairs.

The guys are talking quietly when I walk in, but I don’t think they’re talking about me, more about the situation and how crappy it is.

“This is all I could find,” I say, passing everything to Kruger, who takes it with a wink.

“Don’t worry, Tink. This’ll do just fine.”

I smile. “There isn’t much here,” I tell them. “And aside from a few baby clothes, they don’t seem to be ready for a kid at all.”

“I don’t give a shit if they’re ready or not,” Havoc snaps. “They made their bed; they can fucking rot in it for all I care.”

I shrug and head into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and cupboards. There isn’t much, and despite everything, I’m not comfortable taking food from a pregnant woman. So, I brew a pot of coffee and look through the drawers until I find a bunch of take-out menus. I gather them up and look through them as I fix myself a mug of coffee. Sitting at the counter, I sip my drink, as the others eventually come in.

“Any more?” Mac asks.

I nod to the coffee pot as Havoc walks over. He picks me up and sits down, placing me in his lap. I sigh and continue to sip my coffee.

“Sorry, I snapped.”

“It’s fine. I get it. The whole situation is messed-up. I’d be worried if it weren’t bothering you. Now, let’s focus on the important stuff. Food.”

He grins.

“I’ve narrowed it down to pizza or Chinese,” I say, holding up two menus.

He takes them from me. “I remember this place. The pizza tastes like shit.”

“Chinese it is then. You guys okay with that?”

Toot grabs the menu from Havoc and looks at me. “You know what you want? I’ll phone our orders in, and then me and Mac can ride down and pick it up. I want to check out the locals. Nobody back home minds us in their space ’cause we give back to the community. I want to see what the setup here is like.”

Havoc nods. “Good idea. We were never going to win any popularity contests, even before I went to prison. We didn’t put nearly as much effort into keeping the peace as the mother chapter does, but they respected us enough to stay out of our business.”

“Despite how awful they’ve all treated Havoc, I don’t want to believe that the whole club is rotten,” I admit.

“Sometimes one bad apple ruins the whole bunch,” Kruger tells me, and as much as I hate it, he’s right.

“Alright, tell me what you want,” Toot chimes in as he pulls out his cell phone, I assume, to take notes.

I tell him what I want just as my cell phone chimes. I pull it out and see a text from Ambros. Opening it up, I chuckle at the message.

So how’s the epic love story going? He fall in love with you yet? Did you fall in love with him? The suspense is killing me. Also, my sister went fucking nuts over the signed book. Thanks again for that. Not sure how I’ll top Christmas.

“Who’s that?” Havoc asks, reading over my shoulder.

“Ambros. I met him on the plane on my way to London.”

He tenses beneath me, his grip on my hips tightening.

“He’s been rooting for you and wanted an update. He’s hoping we’ll find our happily ever after,” I say lightly. He relaxes a touch , but I can see he still isn’t happy. “His sister’s a big fan, so I signed a book for him, and he wanted to thank me again.”

“You mean like an autograph?” Crane asks with a frown.

I nod. “Yeah. Trust me, it’s weird for me too.”

“So you’re famous?” He stares at me with an odd look on his face.

“In the book community, yeah, I guess.”

“You’re famous, and you didn’t tell me?” he exclaims, sounding almost hurt, making me cock my head in surprise.

“Kinda pretentious to walk around with a banner saying, hey, I’m a famous author .”

“Like fuck it is. I’d walk around naked wearing nothing but a sandwich board, telling everyone who would listen.”

“I’m okay with Tinkerbell walking around—” Toot gets cut off by a growling Havoc.

“Finish that sentence and die.”

“Touchy motherfucker,” Toot grumbles under his breath.

“I can’t find you.” Crane looks up from his phone and narrows his eyes.

“I’m lying. I’m actually a stripper. My stage name’s Heaven Leigh.”

“Shit, is that true?”

“No.” I shake my head and grin. “I was an escort. It’s where I met Havoc. He was a client I used to see in prison for conjugal visits, so imagine our surprise when we bumped into each other at the clubhouse.”

He drops his phone as his mouth falls open in shock.

I look back at Havoc and laugh. “Please tell me he’s not the brains of the operation.”

The guys laugh loudly as I turn back to Crane and give him an innocent smile. I lean forward and wait until he does the same, as if I’m bestowing a big secret on him.

“I met Havoc two weeks after I woke up with him inside me, stealing my virginity in the middle of night. Then he kidnapped me and held me hostage, all in the hopes of making me fall in love with him.”

Crane shakes his head and laughs. “Nice try, but I’m not falling for another one of your stories.”

Havoc chuckles behind me, burying his face in my hair and I smile.

“Anyway, you won’t find me under my real name. Try looking up Celeste Sky.”

He bends down to pick his phone up, and I wait while he Googles me. Mac and Toot head toward the door after phoning the restaurant and placing everyone’s orders.

“Call in if anything seems off,” Havoc tells them.

“Will do,” Toot calls back as they leave.

“Holy shit.” Crane says, looking at me in shock.

I just grin. “I don’t know how to say this, but I’m kind of a big deal.”

“And she quotes Anchorman ,” he whispers reverently.

“If you don’t stop looking at her like that, Crane, you’ll end up with more than stars in your eyes,” Havoc warns him.

“I don’t suppose I could talk you into sharing, like our former president?” He ducks as Havoc throws my empty mug at him. “So that’s a no then?”

“You must have a death wish.” Kruger chuckles, picking up the cup, that luckily didn’t break, and placing it in the sink.

“Tell me about this Ambros guy.”

“I told you, I met him on the plane to London. He was nice.”

Havoc growls, and I turn to look at him. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t like other men texting you,” Havoc grumbles.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not my daddy. I’ve had it up to here with controlling men, so if you would rather I don’t sprinkle arsenic all over your food, you’ll learn to trust me and swallow down any accusations your brain might conjure up. I’m not a cheat. I’m not Lola and won’t pay for her sins.”

I go to climb off his lap, but he grips my hips.

“Not accusing you of anything, cupcake, but I’m a guy. I know what guys see when they look at you, and I’m not okay with that.”

“What do you mean? What do they see?”

“Sex.”

“You’re nuts.” I turn to Kruger. “Tell him he’s insane.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Those little skirts and red lips? Trust me when I say there isn’t a man in the club that hasn’t thought about fucking the innocence out of you. There is nothing sexier than a good girl gone bad. We like an angel on her knees with her halo around her ankles.”

I have no clue what to say about that, but Havoc is apparently done talking and has chosen violence instead.

He lifts me off his lap before I realize what he’s doing. Thankfully, Kruger’s figured it out and takes off, Havoc hot on his heels.

“She asked. And you know none of us would touch her now that she’s yours.”

“Yeah, well, I thought that once before, and look what happened.”

“Nevaeh’s right. She’s not Lola, and we’re not this club.”

Havoc stops, looking from Kruger to Crane, who is watching everything with a grin, then to me.

“Don’t touch him. He’s right––he was answering my question.” I stand with my hands on my hips and glare at him.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Well, I do. You can’t beat up everyone who looks at me, talks to me, or flirts with me.”

He stalks toward me.

“Wanna bet?”