“Carla, you don’t strike me as the kind of woman to put up with shit from any man. You’re not seriously telling me that you let those guys control you, are you?”
Sighing, I replied, “No, but there have been times when a guy I’ve been with has made it clear he’s not interested in doing something I wanted to do, and I let him have his way. And it’s not that I expect a guy to want to do everything I want to do… I think what I should have said was thank you for watching it with me.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips. “You had me intrigued with the Gloria thing.”
“What did you think of her?”
“She’s got a hot ass and tits, but no way could I listen to that voice for longer than about five minutes.”
I loved his honesty. Cocking my head to the side, I asked, “What kinds of shows do you like? I’m picking you for a Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead kinda man.”
His lips twitched with a smile. “I do like those shows. Or any real-life serial killer documentary. The more violent the better.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”
He laughed and fuck, when Havoc laughed, it was a beautiful thing. “Yeah, I’m fucking with you, darlin’. I don’t watch a lot of TV. I do like most movies or shows about spies though. Thrillers more than actions.”
“I should have picked that about you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you’re a deep thinker, so I can see the appeal of a good thriller over an action for you.”
He sat forward and in one motion, had me on my back while he positioned himself on his knees between my legs with his hands planted on either side of me. Staring down at me through eyes that held too much thunder, he growled, “You’re getting in my fuckin’ head, babe. It’s not a good place to go searching.”
The Havoc who had laughed with me a moment ago was gone, and in his place was the intense Havoc I knew well. The one who held me at arm's-length. I reached for his face and held it with both hands. “Are you scared of what I’ll find there?” My breaths were choppy and my heart rate had picked up.
His eyes searched mine. “You won’t like what you find there, Carla.”
I held my breath. “Maybe you should let me decide that for myself.”
He continued to watch me and I wished I knew him enough to have an inkling of what thoughts were running through his mind. Instead, it was as if we were suspended in a space where I didn’t know which way to jump, and so I was left hanging, waiting for him to give me something.
Anything.
Up until that point, I had never really pushed him for much.
Maybe it’s time to push.
I tightened my hold on his face. “Tell me the one thing I wouldn’t like if I dug deep in your mind.”
I held my breath again.
Waiting.
Hoping.
His body tensed and his jaw clenched.
He forced a long breath out.
“I killed my own grandfather. With my bare hands. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.” His words came out in a grunt. Feral almost.
We stared at each other while his words smothered us with darkness.
“Why?”
He grunted and moved to straddle me. “Why did I kill him or why would I do it again?”
“Why to all of that. Tell me. I know there’s so much more to you that you don’t show.” I wiggled out from under him and kneeled in front of him. Placing my hand on his chest, over his heart, I begged, “Tell me who you are. Show me what’s in here.”
Something I said caused him to shut down and he pushed up off the bed and stalked outside. The slam of the door sent a jolt through me.
Oh no you don’t.
I scrambled off the bed and followed him outside where I found him staring at the road, his hands gripping the railing tightly. His dark eyes met mine, but he didn’t speak.
“Why won’t you let me in?” I demanded as the noise of the cars rushing past the motel filled the night air.
“Why the fuck do you want in?”
“God, Havoc, isn’t it human nature to want a connection? For fuck’s sake, our bodies have connected in ways most people only dream of. Why can’t the rest of us connect?”
“I don’t want connection, Carla. I just want to fuck you.” His mouth was saying those words, but I didn’t believe them for a minute.
“You are so full of bullshit. Can you even be honest with yourself for one minute?”
His chest pumped up and down as his breaths came hard and fast. “All right, you want honesty? I’ll fuckin’ give you honesty and you decide what to do with it.” He tore his gaze from mine to stare back out into the inky night for a few moments. When he finally turned back to look at me again, he gave me what I had asked for. “My mum’s father was a member of Storm. I remember growing up and worshipping the ground he walked on. I loved bikes, I loved him and I loved Storm. I always knew I’d join the club. On my eighteenth birthday he helped me do that. And then he took me down a dark path where my violent streak was celebrated and encouraged.”