14. Havoc
Havoc
“He’s going to get himself killed doing stupid shit.” I cross my arms on my chest, leaning against the railing that lines the front deck of the clubhouse. “Let me guess, you had something to do with this?”
Aimee smirks, watching Soul climb on his bike as Chaos lights a puddle of gasoline on the ground behind the back tire. “When I told him to make it interesting, I didn’t think he’d choose fire.”
If I hadn’t seen Soul do this at least ten times in the past, I might try to stop him. Instead, I stand at the railing with all the other people who have started to filter out of the clubhouse to watch, and hope this isn’t the prank that finally sends him to his grave.
At least Aimee seems entertained by Soul’s antics. She breathes out a laugh as the flames start to grow.
She’s built an unexpected camaraderie with Chaos, Soul, and Venom while I’ve been busy this past week trying to track down information on her father.
And while I’d like to be the one bringing a smile to her face, I sense the lack of expectation from that particular group of guys is what is helping heal her right now.
So I’ve hung back and given her the space she needs.
Besides, the distance seems to draw her closer.
Aimee doesn’t immediately glare when I walk into the room lately.
And while I was getting used to her treating me like her emotional punching bag, the hits have been fewer and farther between.
Yesterday morning, she even went as far as to sit beside me and drink her coffee on the back patio.
The girl I remember is starting to flicker. A girl who may never show herself quite like she used to, but there’s proof she still exists.
Aimee shifts closer, her arm brushing mine, and she doesn’t pull away.
I swear every fiber of my being is desperate to drink in every bit of her.
Lavender and jasmine fill the air, and I wish I could wrap my arms around her like Legacy is doing to Reagan beside me. Caging her against the railing and kissing the top of her head.
It’s like I’ve been spinning for years; I couldn’t figure out how to slow myself down until I saw Aimee again. My heart knows she’s my home, even if her heart doesn’t feel the same.
“He’s going to kill himself.” Aimee’s eyes widen, a hint of worry in her voice .
“I can’t watch this.” Reagan covers her eyes, turning her face to Aimee.
Aimee simply looks up at me, the silent question pressed between her pursed lips.
“He’ll be fine,” I reassure her, dropping my hands to the railing. “Promise.”
My pinky brushes hers, and I expect her to pull back. But she creeps her finger closer, relaxing it against mine as we watch Chaos clear the scene and grab a fire extinguisher.
At least they’re doing this in front of the clubhouse, where all the brush has been cleared from the dirt. The last thing we need is to set the desert on fire.
Soul revs the engine so the back tire spins, slowly wrapping it in flames.
They cover the rubber until a circle of fire burns bright in the night.
Only once it’s consumed does he burst forward, drawing a path of flame down the road.
He rides until he’s just a spinning wheel of orange and red in a dark night.
He continues the length of the front drive before cutting a hard left to spin himself around.
Everyone cheers and hollers as he heads for us, and when he pulls to a stop, Chaos steps forward and puts the flames out.
Soul is grinning as he slips off his helmet and climbs off his motorcycle, taking a bow.
“His bike is ruined.” Confusion knots between Aimee’s eyebrows as she claps.
“That’s just one of his bikes. It’ll be fine once we replace the tires.”
Chaos tosses the fire extinguisher to the side and wraps an arm around Soul’s shoulder as they walk toward us, laughing as they pause at the other side of the railing.
“Impressed yet?” Soul winks at Aimee.
She folds her arms on the railing, bending down to meet his gaze. “That you’ve managed to survive this long? Yes, I am.”
“Some of us are harder to take down than others.”
“Don’t I know it.” Aimee’s voice drops with her comment.
Soul’s smile wavers, telling me I’m not the only one who caught it. But neither he nor Chaos calls her out. They don’t have time as patch bunnies surround them, fighting for their attention.
Aimee lifts off the rail, turning her back on the guys. Not because she seems bothered by the women, but her mind drifted elsewhere with what she said.
At that, Reagan grabs Aimee’s hand and pulls her into a conversation.
“Havoc.” Ghost waves me over to him.
I watch Luna and Reagan pull Aimee into the clubhouse as I make my way to where Ghost is standing.
“I had a chat with our friend this afternoon.” Ghost taps his thumb on the railing, not looking me in the eyes.
“Reyes?”
Ghost nods.
“What did he have to say?”
“He wasn’t with the Iron Sinners when Aimee was kidnapped the first time. ”
“No shit. The kid is only twenty-three.” I drag my hand through my hair. “But he was around this time. There’s no way he doesn’t know shit.”
“He said Titan kept her dad under lock and key. No one had access to him. And Aimee…” Ghost trails off, his eyes not meeting mine.
“Just fucking say it.” I brace my hands on the railing.
“Titan had a hands-off order on her as well. No one was allowed to go near her.” He looks at me, knowing as well as I do that the only reason Titan would issue that kind of order is if Aimee meant something to him.
We’ve met plenty of girls who narrowly escaped the Iron Sinners. I’m clear on how that club abuses, drugs, and assaults women. So while it is a relief to know that Titan may have spared some of that between her and his men, I don’t doubt he found other ways to break her for his own amusement.
I shake my head, wishing it could shake that thought. “Did Reyes hint where Titan might be keeping Anderson?”
“No.” Ghost grips the railing. “I tracked down the only address he gave me, and it was a dead end. The house was abandoned months ago.”
“Lying piece of shit.”
“I’ll get it out of him.” Ghost pops his knuckles. “I just might need to get a little more creative.”
I’m not sure I want to know what that means. At the same time, I want to be there and watch Reyes bleed when he does it. By the time this is over, I want to hang the Iron Sinners from their ankles and slit their throats. It’s going to rain blood on their judgment day.
“Let me know when you go in for another round. I want to be there when you go back in.”
Ghost nods, lifting off the rail. “Will do, brother. Planning on it tomorrow.”
We make our way into the clubhouse, and Ghost catches sight of Luna across the room, so he beelines for her. It takes me a moment to set eyes on Aimee. She’s tall but not compared to the guys surrounding her.
When I finally spot her, I see her standing near the bar with a water bottle in her hand. And as the crowd shifts, I notice Reina stops directly in front of her. Reina’s red nails tap the bar as she stares Aimee down.
I’ve fucking had it with this territorial bullshit.
The only reason I fucked Reina was to get out of my head when it started to feel like all the women were blending together. And although it was a good time, it didn’t actually mean anything.
I push through the crowd just as Reina takes a verbal jab at Aimee.
“You think that just because you’ve temporarily distracted Havoc, he’s still pining after you? I don’t remember seeing you in his bed when I was keeping it warm.”
I stop beside Aimee at that, and Reina’s eyes go wide as she realizes I heard her. While Aimee stands as relaxed as ever, completely unfazed. There’s an almost bored expression on her face as her gaze flicks from Reina to me .
I’m ready to say something, even if it will likely piss Aimee off because she hates when I intervene on her behalf. But she doesn’t give me the chance.
Aimee’s dark eyes fall to my arms crossed over my chest. To my hand resting on my elbow. To the hourglass tattooed on the back of my ring finger. And the smallest smirk lightens the darkness in her gaze.
Aimee breathes out an unamused laugh, turning back to Reina. “I guess you just weren’t looking hard enough.”
At that, Aimee walks past Reina, heading to the hallway. She probably wants to be alone, and I should let her. But there’s no amount of willpower that will stop me tonight. I swallow my ego, and I follow her.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were getting a tattoo.” Aimee turns my forearm over, inspecting the design.
Her fingers trace around the ink, avoiding touching it directly since it needs to heal. The graze of her skin on my arm has my blood pumping. My bones rattling.
Aimee’s touch brings my heart to life.
“It was a last-minute decision. Jameson was getting one, and I figured I’d join him. What do you think?” How pathetic is it that I feel the need to ask that question?
That my entire world hangs in the balance of what this girl thinks?
“I like it.” She smiles up at me, releasing my arm.
My skin feels instantly cold and empty without her touch .
“Good.” I rub my hands together and find my palms sweaty.
Aimee makes me feel like I’m a sixteen-year-old virgin. Nervous and excited and hanging on her every word.
Hell, I’m going into the military for her. While I told her I was doing it for myself, and that wasn’t a complete lie, she’s the catalyst. If there’s a chance that doing something different with my life will give me a chance with her, then I’ll try.
“Now I want one.” Aimee frowns, leaning against the arm of the couch. “But my father would kill me.”
I stretch my arm out, and it puts my hand near her shoulder. “Fuck him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Figures you would say that.”
“It’s your life, firecracker. No matter what anyone else thinks, you should be allowed to make your own decisions.”
A soft blush climbs her neck—her cheeks.
Her beautiful, brown eyes dart away to try and hide it.
“What would you get?” I ask.
“For a tattoo?”
I nod.
“I don’t know.” She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “An hourglass, maybe?”
It’s not surprising, since she’s always drawing them on the corners of notebooks and flipping them over if we pass one in a store. But I’ve never asked her why.
“What’s with you and hourglasses anyway?”
“My mom used to have a collection of them.” She swallows her emotion, and I realize I’ve hit a nerve. “It’s the first thing my dad got rid of after she left. They reminded him of her, and he didn’t want that.”
“So you want that to remember your mom?”
“No. Not her.” She scoffs. “I want to remember that everything is temporary. That every moment is important. That every grain of sand means something. Because they all slip away eventually, whether we like it or not. Might as well appreciate what we have. Nothing is infinite.”
“Except us.”
Her eyebrows pinch. “You’re leaving, Levi.”
“And I’ll be back.” I shrug. “It really doesn’t matter where I am or where you are. You’re always with me. This. Us. We’re infinite.”
She hums, dropping her gaze to my tattoo. “I hope you do come back. For the record.”
Aimee’s eyes meet mine, and she drains the rest of my soul.
“I will,” I promise. “I hope you’re still waiting when I do.”