Havoc (Storm MC #8)

Carla came to me with a look of horror. “Fuck, your face is a mess. I’m gonna go back inside and get some tissues or something for your nosebleed.”


I reached out and grabbed her wrist. Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’ll just use my shirt.” Before she could argue, I stood and ripped my shirt off so I could use it to stop blood going everywhere.

“Did you let him win?”

I chuckled. “No. My phone distracted me. Probably a good thing, otherwise I reckon we’d still be here going at it.” I grabbed my phone from my pocket and listened to the voice message Yvette had left.

Carla frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think she meant to call me. There was all this garbled talking and I don’t think it was directed at me.”

“Why do you look so weird about it?”

With my one free hand, I pulled her to me. “When your sister is on the end of the phone talking about pussy she wants to eat, it’s kinda weird.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischievousness and she laughed. “Must be a Caldwell thing, this love of pussy.”

My body was in a world of hurt. Blood ran from my nose and I could feel parts of my face beginning to swell. I had a sick father to get to, but in that moment all I saw and heard was Carla. Once again, I was struck by the realisation that she lit up my fucking world when it had been grey for so long.

I almost forgot about my problems with Nash and the club.

Almost.



* * *



“You took your time,” Yvette muttered when I joined her in Dad’s kitchen a little while later. “And what the hell happened to your face?”

The bleeding had stopped but I knew I had dried blood on my face. I probably had bruising as well, to go with the swelling. “A difference of opinion.”

“Jesus. What kind of opinion is worth that kind of fight?” As the words came out of her mouth, understanding dawned on her face and she added, “Shit, was this about a woman?”

Wanting to avoid this conversation, because my sister could be a pain in my ass, I moved to the fridge and grabbed ice out of the freezer. I then wrapped the ice in a towel and placed it against my cheek.

“Holy shit, it is!” she carried on. “Please tell me this woman lives in Brisbane and you’re going to stick around.”

I raised my hand and shook my head to indicate she should stop. “Can we just talk about Dad? How is he?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t think this is the last about that. Dad’s been having a lot of chest pain and his blood pressure has been scary. I’m really worried, but he just seems so blasé about it all.”

“In what way?”

“He’s refusing to go to the doctor and get checked. Keeps grumbling that he’s spent enough time in hospital to last a lifetime. I need you to talk some sense into him or failing that, put him in the damn car and take him because he won’t listen to me.”

I was contemplating what she said when there was a knock at the front door followed by, “Yvette, you said you’d be like ten minutes max, babe” as the woman who owned the voice walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. When her eyes met mine, they widened. “Oh sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.”

I settled my ass against the kitchen counter and crossed one ankle over the other. “Knock yourself out. I can wait,” I said as I eyed her. She was a gorgeous woman with long brunette hair, killer curves, pouty lips and a feminine air that I would never have picked my sister to be attracted to. However, if the way they were looking at each other was any indication, they were hooking up. Yvette had embraced her sexuality at a young age and was a loud and proud lesbian who didn’t scream femininity. She had packed muscle onto her frame and her hair was cut short and spiky. Her favourite things to do were work on her car and try any kind of extreme sport out there. The woman who’d just barged into the house wore a flowy red dress and looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine with her makeup and hair. Definitely not Yvette’s type, but the thing I’d learnt was sometimes our ‘type’ was not at all what we thought.

She blasted me with a smile, which was another key difference between her and Yvette. My sister smiled at no one most of the time. Reaching for my hand, she said, “Hi, I’m Gillian.”

I shook her hand, liking her instantly. She was a breath of fresh air for Yvette and maybe she’d soften her rough edges. “Havoc.”

If I thought she’d hit me with a smile before, her face lit up more at the mention of my name. “Yvette’s brother!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages.”

“How long have you two been going at it?”

Yvette scowled. “Havoc,” she chastised. “Watch your mouth.”

Well, fuck me, Gillian had already changed her. She’d never had a problem with my mouth before. My sister’s mouth was as dirty as mine most days.

Gillian ignored her. “We’ve been seeing each other for about a month now. We met at a race.”