Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Havoc

“ J esus Christ,” I curse as I spin.

Nevaeh laughs her ass off beside me as a woman in her eighties gives me a wink.

“She just pinched my ass.”

“Us book girls are a bunch of thirsty bitches. Plus, it’s a great ass.”

“You just swore. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” I sit down, mostly so my ass is safe from snatch-and-grab grannies, and look around the room.

This is the first time all day that there hasn’t been a line of people waiting for Nevaeh’s autograph. I knew she was an author, but I don’t think I truly understood what that meant in terms of fandom until I came here and watched grown adults lose their minds over seeing her. I’ve been fighting off the urge to scream mine all day. I almost got into a fight with a guy who ripped off his T-shirt and asked her to sign his chest so he could get it tattooed.

“I did try to warn you. Most authors I know are pretty introverted. But this, this is our Mecca, and these are our people. Romance readers are a community like nothing you’ve seen before. I’ve never met most of these people, yet they’re all my friends. Social media has its benefits. In this case, it’s building friendships with people where the oceans between us mean nothing.”

“And this is small?”

“Compared to some venues, yes.”

I look at her and watch her smile. She looks happy, but it’s more than that. She looks relaxed in her own skin. Here, none of her history matters. Nobody cares about her sister or her dad. All they care about are the stories and characters she creates.

“Hello, Nevaeh.”

We both turn at the sound of her name and see a tall, thin man wearing a three-piece suit and a fedora. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and has a thick beard and mustache, which would make it hard to distinguish his age if it weren’t for the paper-thin skin of his hands dotted with liver spots.

“Hello. Do you want me to sign that for you?” Nevaeh reaches for the book he’s holding, but when she grabs it, he holds onto it for a little longer than necessary.

She brushes it off, clearly used to fans of all ages being a little odd, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.

“Who shall I make it out to?”

“Jasper,” he says so low that I have to lean in a little to hear him.

She writes his name and a little quote before signing her name with a flourish and handing it back. He stares down at it for a moment before he’s nudged out of the way by two giggling women who Nevaeh seems to recognize. She jumps up and rounds the table to give them both brief hugs.

“Laura, Jo, this is Havoc, Havoc, this is Laura and Jo, the organizers.”

Jo fans her face as she stares at me. “You lucky bitch.”

This makes Nevaeh and Laura dissolve into laughter. Seriously, these women are all insane. I look for the old guy, hoping for some kind of solidarity, but he disappears into the crowd.

“We won’t keep you; we’re just stopping by the tables to see if anyone needs anything.” Laura smiles.

“That’s sweet, but we’re good.”

“That’s what we like to hear. I have some books for you to sign later if you can squeeze me in.” Jo adds.

“I’ll make room for you, don’t worry.”

I wait for them to leave before I lean closer and kiss her lightly. “I think there might be a witch or two in your family tree because the second you sat down, there was magic in the air.”

“Oh, really. And are you under my spell, Mr. President?”

“Fuck yes. I’m your biggest fan.”

“Want me to sign your chest?” she teases.

I grab her hand and slide it under the table and onto my hard cock. “I’ve got something you can sign.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys are so cute together. Can I get a photo?”

Nevaeh grins against my lips before she turns to look at a young girl standing in front of the table, bouncing on her heels in excitement.

“Of course. Want me to sign something first?” She squeezes my legs, letting me know she’s buying me time for my cock to go down.

“Oh, thank you, that would be great. Can you make it out to Katie?”

“Absolutely.”

She hands Nevaeh a scrapbook. Nevaeh signs with a flourish before handing it back.

The girl then hands it to me. “Would you sign it too?”

“Me?” I ask, confused.

She blushes and nods. I take the pen from her, ignoring Nevaeh, who chuckles beside me.

“You’re so handsome. Are you going to be on the next cover? Squeal, I’m so excited.”

I hand the pen and book back to her, bemused as Nevaeh stands up and tugs me around the table so we can have our photo taken.

Once the girl says goodbye and we’re alone again, I lean into Nevaeh. “Did she say squeal? I feel so fucking old. Not to mention violated. Did you see the way she looked at me?”

“Well, sir, you are mighty easy on the eyes.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever blushed in my fucking life until I came here.”

That sets her off. She laughs, catching the attention of those around us, who start snapping pictures. A guy walks toward us with a grin on his face, snagging some of the attention away from me and Nevaeh.

There is something familiar about him, but I can’t figure out why until Nevaeh spots him. “Ambros. What are you doing here?”

The MMA fighter?

“My sister heard you were going to be here from a friend, and she insisted I bring her. She’s just exchanging bracelets with someone. I swear it’s a Taylor Swift concert or something.”

“You a Swiftie, Ambros?” Nevaeh teases as she stands up and moves around the table to hug him. I hook my finger in the waistband of her skirt and stop her.

“Nothing sexier than a woman with confidence and the talent to back it up. Hell yeah, I’m a Swiftie.”

His eyes move to me. He holds out his hand for me to shake. “I’m guessing you’re Mr. Cherry Popper?”

“These books are heavy, Ambros. Don’t make me knock you out with one,” Nevaeh warns him as I laugh.

I stand up and shake his hand. “Havoc.”

“Ambros. Nice to meet you. Glad you guys worked it out. Guess I’m more like my sister than I realized because I’m a sucker for a happy ending too.”

“Are you talking about me again?” A pretty brunette walks up to Ambros and elbows him before her eyes land on Nevaeh, and she freezes. “You’re Celeste Sky,” she whispers reverently.

“Oh boy,” Ambros mutters, sounding amused.

“I’ve read everything you’ve ever written. You’re my favorite author. I can’t believe it’s you. I must be dreaming. Somebody pinch me.”

Ambros obliges her.

She smacks him in the chest. “Ass, that hurt.”

“Just snapping you out of it. You got a little crazy there.”

“I did not, right?” She looks at me. I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s the eyes. I half expected you to tackle her to the ground.”

“Don’t listen to him. I’m always happy to meet a fan, and honestly, I’m worse. You should have seen me when I met Winter James a few years back. I swear I forgot the English language entirely and just made a series of grunting sounds. I might have even cried a little. It was bad.”

“I met her once, too. She was really nice, though I found it hard to concentrate with all her men there.” She fans herself.

I look to Nevaeh, having no clue who Winter James is.

“She’s an author from the UK. She currently has a sexy harem of men. They own an exclusive nightclub in London, I believe.”

I narrow my eyes at her so she doesn’t get any funny ideas.

She taps my chest and laughs. “One man is more than enough for me.” She turns to the woman. “I have a friend who has a biker harem. One of them used to be the president of Raven Souls before Havoc took over.”

“Oooh, biker MC trumps nightclub moguls. Suits are sexy, but bikers…” She trails off, looking embarrassed when she remembers I’m standing there, too.

“Don’t mind me, I agree. Bikers are better.”

Ambros groans. “Please don’t encourage her. You’re happily married, Ella, remember?”

“Happy married and in love with a dozen book boyfriends. It’s the best of both words.”

She opens her mouth to say something to Nevaeh when the sound of gunfire rips through the room. I throw myself at Neveah and take her to the floor.

The sound of screaming and shattered glass ring out around us as I shove Nevaeh under the table, knowing the tablecloth will hide her. A second later, Ella is shoved under from the other side.

“Stay here,” I bark at them both before crawling around the side of the table, bumping into Ambros.

“What the fuck is happening?”

“Don’t know. I’ve got a prospect outside, though, and a brother on the far side of the room.” I pull out my cell and text Dice and Capone to head my way.

“You armed?” he asks me as I shove my cell phone away.

“No. Funny enough, I didn’t think I’d need a gun at a fucking book signing.”

“Shit.”

I spot Kate, the girl who just took her photo with us, lying on the floor crying with what looks like a bullet wound on the leg.

“Fuck. Gotta move these people out of the way. They’re sitting ducks.”

Ambros looks around and nods. We both move, keeping low. I scoop the girl up and move her behind one of the overturned tables. I run back out to grab another as Ambros moves past me with someone in his arms. Most people have hidden, so it doesn’t take us long to get the rest of the people out of the way.

Capone drops down next to me with Dice in his arms.

“Oh fuck.” I rip Dice’s prospect cut open and see a bullet hole in his stomach. His gray T-shirt beneath is rapidly turning red.

“Hachette,” Dice spits out.

“You sure?”

“Him and four others,” he murmurs before he passes out.

I look at Capone. I must have fire in my eyes because he swallows hard.

“Keep pressure on his wound. I gotta check on Nevaeh.” I turn to Ambros. “Call an ambulance. Tell them there are multiple casualties.”

He nods and yanks out his phone as I crawl back to Nevaeh with my phone in my hand. Once I’m out of sight of the others, I fire off a text.

Go time.

I delete it.

I lift the tablecloth and find Nevaeh leaning over Ella. “You guys okay?”

“She’s bleeding. I think a bullet winged her arm.”

“Here, let me see. Ella, you okay?”

“I think so.” Her voice comes out shaky.

“Help me tug her out this way, Nevaeh. Stay behind the table. They might have stopped firing, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone.”

“They?”

“Sounded like more than one gun firing,” I answer smoothly.

Once we get Ella out, I check her arm and agree with Nevaeh. “Just a graze. Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like a motherfucker, but you’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Okay, that’s good. And I get a cool story out of it right?”

“Right.”

“Ella?” Ambrose skids across the floor to land next to his sister.

“She’s fine. A bullet clipped her arm, but the bleeding has almost stopped already.”

“Jesus fuck, you just took ten years off my life. I didn’t think. I shoved you under the table. I should have checked that you were okay first. I should have?—”

“Done exactly what you did. Don’t second guess yourself now,” I tell him.

He takes a deep breath before blowing it out, gently tugging his sister to lean against him. I turn to Nevaeh, who is as pale as a ghost.

“Dice is hurt. I’ve gotta get back to him.”

“What? I’m coming.”

Stay here?—”

“Fuck that. Where is he?”

I snarl, but don’t waste time arguing. I drag her across the room to where Dice and Capone are.

“How’s he doing?”

“Still breathing, but stomach wounds are not good. Too many things to damage.”

Nevaeh moves so she can lift Dice’s head onto her lap. She runs her fingers across his forehead, looking up at me with tears running down her face.

“He’s a fighter, Nevaeh. He won’t give up easily.”

She nods and looks down at him, murmuring soft words meant only for Dice. I crawl over to the girl with the leg wound and yank the tablecloth off the nearest table. A man is pressing his hands to the wound, but blood is pumping out between his fingers.

“Need to make a tourniquet. It looks like they hit an artery.” He moves back and holds her as I wrap the tablecloth around her upper thigh and pull it tight. She cries out, clutching onto the other guy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I need to slow the bleeding down.” I tie it as tight as possible and hope the ambulances arrive soon.

“You good with her while I check on the others?” I ask the guy.

“Yeah, I’ve got her.” I slap his shoulder and get to my feet, surveying the room.

I had a feeling Khan might tail us here. I knew someone had been watching us. I knew there’d be eyes on Nevaeh. She was too much of a temptation. A way to hurt me that they would take pleasure in. What I didn’t expect was for them to shoot up a fucking bookstore to get to us. This kind of massacre will make front-page news. What the fuck was Khan thinking?

I scrub my hand over my face as I hear the sound of sirens in the distance. Doesn’t matter what the intention was, shit like this can’t happen. It won’t just bring the spotlight to their club. If anyone sees them and notices their cuts, it will bring unwanted attention to all of us. If there was ever a doubt before, it’s gone now.

Khan has to die.