19. Havoc
Havoc
Aimee and I don’t speak about why I’m covered in blood or what else happened with Titan. We let the presence of each other replace conversation and do what we’ve always done best when nothing else makes sense: we’re simply there for each other.
The first time I saw Aimee, I had an instant crush. She embodied a girl who would never give a guy like me a shot in hell. Too smart. Too pretty. Confident and funny. I knew I didn’t have a chance, but I couldn’t help myself.
I chased her to the point of my own embarrassment.
And for some unknown reason, she slowly grew into the idea of letting me hang around.
We didn’t have a lot in common where our backgrounds and family lives were concerned, apart from the fact that both our moms walked out on us.
But still, she understood me better than anyone else .
There’s this bond. This tie. This soul tether that keeps us together.
As Aimee stood in the shower with me, I clung to that. The security of her body against mine.
Here , when I spent so many years thinking I would never see her again.
I held her and wished it were in my power to fix what broke. It’s just not possible.
So we stood under the water until it ran clean. Until we were back in the present and the past settled alongside all our other haunted memories. Only then did we climb out of the shower.
She cleaned my split knuckles but didn’t ask what happened. Once we were dressed, I gave her a kiss and left for the kitchen to get her something to eat. It was the least I could do, even if it wasn’t enough.
Nothing feels like enough these past few days. Every time I look in her eyes, I wonder why she’s giving me a second chance.
It makes sense now—all that resentment and anger when we were first brought together again. I should have been here to protect her. Or, at the very least, known what was happening so my club could have stopped it.
I failed her.
That regret is something I live with as we coexist, and I do my best not to let her see that I hate myself when she shows me any hint of affection.
I don’t deserve it.
But I don’t pull away either. I can’t. I need her .
Thankfully, Aimee seems to feel the same way because she hasn’t asked me to sleep anywhere else but in bed with her since the night of the party. She wants me close, and I’ll give her anything if it means she’s at peace enough to sleep soundly without needing to barricade the door.
Even when I come back to the room late—which is more often than not—there’s no furniture blocking my path. She trusts me, and she trusts that she’s safe here.
Which is why I can’t slow down these past few days. Helping around Kings Auto when one of the guys got the flu. Digging through security footage with Ghost. Scanning bank statements with Legacy. Looking for any clue that gets us closer to Anderson and Titan.
Having a mission gives me clarity, and that’s all I’m clinging to right now.
Unfortunately, keeping that busy also means I don’t see Aimee as much as I’d like to. She’s asleep by the time I climb into bed, and I’m up before the sun. I can’t relax until this is settled. Only then will this be done.
I roll my bike to a stop in Dad’s driveway, cutting the engine and climbing off. Every year, he wastes more money on booze and women, while his house continues to dilapidate.
I’ve tried to help by sending contractors over to fix issues with the house as I spot them, but at this point, it’s almost impossible to keep up with the amount of work that needs to be done.
Especially when he doesn’t give a shit. He’s rotting, from his liver to the walls he lives in, and he barely notices .
Sometimes, I consider cutting him off and letting him waste away. It’s clear that’s what he wants. But unlike him, I still believe in loyalty. So here I am.
I don’t bother knocking when I reach his front door. Most of the time, he’s too drunk to answer, and it’s rare that it’s locked.
As I head inside, I find him passed out in a recliner in the living room. The television is cycling through his favorite show, so he’s probably been asleep for a while.
I start my usual pattern of straightening up the house and wiping down the surfaces. By the time breakfast is cooked and cold, he wanders into the kitchen and finds me sitting at the table. Pancakes and sausage are sitting out, but he skips the food and pours himself a glass of vodka instead.
One gulp and he downs it like water.
Looking at him is like staring into some sort of fucked-up mirror. We have the same jawline and eyes. But his face is red and puffy, and there are dark circles under his eyes. The effects of drinking too much for too long are starting to wear on him.
“When the fuck did you get here?” Dad wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Two hours ago.” I set my phone on the table. “I’m guessing you had a late night?”
He grunts, reeking of smoke, booze, and body odor. “Get to it. I know damn well you didn’t come here to make me fucking breakfast.”
I rest my elbows on the table, trying to temper my irritation. “I need to ask you something. ”
“Yep.” He takes another sip of vodka.
“You remember the girl who used to hang around Kings Auto when I was a kid?”
No one except Dad knew of Aimee’s existence. And he only knew because it was impossible to hide her from him when he was at the shop almost as often as I was. Thankfully, he considered my interest in her too pathetic to bring up with the guys at the clubhouse, so it ended there.
“The girl you chased like a pathetic pussy-whipped bitch?” He huffs. “Yeah. She was always too good for you.”
Some days, his verbal jabs get to me. Others, I brush it off.
With my mood this particular morning, I find myself too disappointed in what he’s become to bother being insulted, so I lean back in my chair and don’t respond.
“I heard the club found her in some cage at the Iron Sinners property.” Dad shakes his head. “Or I figured it was her, given the guys said you turned down all the pussy in LA and only one cunt ever made you—”
I slam my fist on the table, barely holding it together.
Dad smirks, finally meeting my gaze. His comment landed exactly how he wanted it to.
After I grew into myself and he couldn’t beat me like he used to when I was a kid, he started to throw his punches in other ways. Just like now.
Flattening my palm on the table, I try to compose myself. I take a deep breath and remind myself that even if he’s a piece of shit, he’s my father. My brother by patch. I can’t lay a hand on him without forcing other issues .
“What about her?” Dad takes another sip, ignoring my anger.
“I just found out that a year after I enlisted, the Iron Sinners raided her house. They took her and her father hostage.”
“And she’s still around to talk about it?”
My stomach drops. “I need to know if you remember any whispers about it back in the day. Did the Iron Sinners make any demands about Aimee or her father?”
Steel didn’t remember anything, but since my father was sitting as a ranked member at the time, he might know more.
He shakes his head. “Nope, they were pretty quiet when you left. At least, until Percy took a bullet and we realized they were just biding their time.”
I wasn’t around when Steel’s father was killed, but I felt it around the world. Percy looked after me when Dad was too drunk to. He cared about his club, and he treated his son’s friends as if they were his own. Percy was a good man and a good president. We lost him too soon.
“Although.” Dad leans forward; his eyebrows knit as he stares through a slit in the curtains. “I think I saw her a couple of years after you left. Or maybe it was a few years before you returned. Somewhere in there. It was during your re-enlistment.”
“Where?”
“Outside the shop.” His gaze finds me. “At least, it was some girl who looked like her. Shorter hair, maybe. A little meaner than she used to be. She glared at the guys in the bays for a second and left. She wasn’t a customer. ”
Aimee came back.
At some point, she came back looking for me. But I re-enlisted, so I wasn’t there.
“Guess that explains that look on her face.” Dad thrums the table with his fingers.
“What look?”
“Darkness.” His fingers pause. “There was something haunted in that girl I saw. It’s why I wasn’t sure it was even her. But if she’d been with them… with Titan…” He shakes his head. “How long?”
“Eleven months.”
Dad nods, and even if he’s an asshole, a flicker of sympathy shines in his gaze. Eleven months with the Iron Sinners is long enough for most people not to return.
“I don’t remember anything other than that.” Dad swirls the splash of liquid in his glass. “If the club got a ransom request for her, Percy never said anything about it, so I doubt it happened.”
“All right.”
Dad nods, his eyes drifting off. He avoids my stare more often than not lately; like, if he doesn’t face me, I won’t see what’s become of him.
A man slowly rotting away in this crumbling house.
A man I wish I didn’t look so much like because I’ll always fear that what’s in him could someday stir in my blood.
I swallow that down, refusing to accept it.
No matter what it takes, I’ll find a way to be worthy of Aimee. I’m too selfish to give her up, so there’s no other option .
Dad pours another glass of vodka and swallows it down while I lose myself in thought, staring at him.
Staring into that mirror where only darkness stares back.
“Where is she now?” Dad asks, his words slurring because he’s a few drinks in before breakfast.
“Back at the clubhouse.”
He smirks. “Didn’t want to bring your girl by to meet dear old Dad.”
“Not today.” Maybe not ever.
They’ve seen each other at a distance, but that’s it. And that’s for the best.
The last thing I want to do is remind Aimee where I come from. She’s heard the stories about my father, but that’s nothing compared to facing the man himself.
There was a time Aimee pushed this issue after I met Anderson. She said it was only fair she meet my father if I met hers. But they aren’t the same.
At least Aimee’s father gives a shit. Anderson never laid a hand on his daughter. He gave her a good life. Far better than anything I could have done for her. It’s why we disagreed so often.
While I was careful not to let her around the club when we were younger, she didn’t hesitate to let me into her life—into her home. Her father knew we were friends after some time of her hiding it, and he hated every second she wasted on me because he thought she deserved better.
He wasn’t wrong about that.
“Maybe I’ll swing by the clubhouse and see her. ”
“Or just swing by and see if Steel needs help with anything. The club’s still paying you, so you might as well earn it.”
His cold glare tells me exactly how he feels about that comment. But really, I’m the only reason Steel hasn’t cut him off entirely. He’s barely functioning as an acting member of the club anymore.
“The club used to be more fun back in the day.” Dad huffs. “Men who understood brotherhood above all. Too many of Steel’s ranked men are settling down and starting to forget that. He’s forgetting that.”
“That’s your president you’re talking about,” I remind him.
“Yeah.” He drops his chin to hide his amusement. “Send Steel my best.”
I don’t respond because Dad doesn’t need to know I won’t mention this visit. There’s no reason to. I told myself I was coming here for answers, but I should have known that was pointless.
When Dad is quiet for a long time, I finally climb to my feet and clean up the mess I made while cooking.
I put the food in the fridge, knowing there’s a higher chance he’ll drink his meals today than eat them.
But just in case—because I can’t seem to stop caring no matter how much I hate him—I set the food on the top shelf so he has something to fill his stomach.
When I turn to leave, I don’t bother saying goodbye. He wouldn’t return it anyway.
But then he calls my name and stops me, “Levi.”
I turn to see him still staring blankly out the window .
“Take care of her. If what you said is true, just…” He shakes his head. “Make those fuckers pay for it.”
It’s possibly the most sympathetic thing my father has said, even if it’s laced in vengeance.
“I will.” I turn on my heels, ready to get back to the clubhouse.
To Aimee. To the girl who is more a home than this place.
I will.