Havoc (Storm MC #8)

Shit, it was Havoc. I didn’t want to see him so I tried to fob him off. “Why are you calling me, Havoc? Didn’t you say everything you had to say to me this afternoon?”


His frustration was clear in his tone. “You’ve got no idea what this afternoon was about and I want to explain it to you. Tell me where you are so I can come and see you.”

“There’s no need. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Babe, you will be seeing me again. We’ve got shit to clear up.”

It was my turn to get frustrated. “Look, we had a two-night stand. It’s done, so let’s just move on. I really don’t need to know whatever the hell it is you think I need to know.”

“Fuckin’ hell, woman. Are you this argumentative with every man you meet, or am I the only one blessed with your arguing?”

“Fuck you,” I yelled into my phone, and hung up on him. Bloody men.

The bartender raised his brows at me and I shook my head. “Don’t ask. Men!”

He grinned. “Gotcha.”

I moved back out onto the dance floor and attempted to lose myself in the music again. The time passed and I was unsure how long I’d been dancing for when strong hands slid around my waist, and warm breath tickled my neck. Havoc’s voice filtered through the music into my ear. “Time to talk, babe.”

I spun around to face him, and his hands landed on my ass and pulled me to him. Our faces were close, eyes searching the others'. “Why did you come?” I asked as I placed my hands against his chest.

“I really don’t fuckin’ know,” he admitted.

The anger from our phone call was gone, and in its place was a sexual tension I was convinced we were both feeling. How this man managed to make me want him even when I knew I didn’t was beyond me. But the pull to him was undeniable, and my belly fluttered with desire.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said, my eyes still firmly on his. “We had sex, and neither of us want anything more out of it, so I don’t need to know why you were a prick to me this afternoon.”

“You’re right. But the thing is that for once in my life, I feel the need to clear up a misunderstanding. I need you to not think of me as that prick.”

I listened closely to his words, and watched his eyes and his face. He was fighting this. It was as if he was torn between not wanting to be anywhere near me, and wanting desperately to tell me his reasons. I couldn’t work him out. And that right there made me want to take the time to do just that. I wanted to know what made Havoc tick.

Pushing gently against his chest, I moved out of his embrace. “Okay, let’s talk,” I agreed, indicating for us to go outside where we could hear each other.

When we were outside, I asked, “How did you find me?”

He shrugged. “Took a guess you’d be at the same club as last time. It was right.”

“Okay, so talk. Why were you such an ass to me?”

His shoulders tensed up, and he raked his hand through his hair. “You know I’m with Storm, right?”

I nodded, giving him the confirmation he needed to move on.

“Part of my job with them is to sort out dickheads who threaten the club or the people close to the club. This afternoon I was dealing with a situation when you turned up. The guy involved is a nasty piece of work and I didn’t want him to see you there. That’s why I was trying to get you to leave.”

Shit, that was so far from what I’d expected; it made me stop and think. I cocked my head to the side. “So you do have some warmth in that heart of yours, Havoc?”

“Let’s not get carried away, darlin’,” he muttered.

My annoyance with him faded, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “You know, there was no need for you to be so damn rude to me. You could have just said that to me this afternoon and I would have left.”

His glare was piercing. Again, I couldn’t read him. After staring at me for what felt like an eternity, he agreed, “Yeah, I could have, but in the heat of the moment, I went with my gut, and my gut told me to get you the hell out of there fast. I didn’t have time for all the questions I knew you’d ask if I tried to explain it to you.”

Clarity hit me, and fuck, it wasn’t what I’d ever have thought about him. I leant closer to him, and said softly, “You were worried about me. You cared what happened to me.” My heart beat faster at the thought. I didn’t know what to do with it, wasn’t even sure why I’d said it aloud to him.