Chapter 2 Havoc
HAVOC
Ialmost spin out on the turn to Viking’s driveway, my back tires skidding in the rain. My heart’s pounding in my ears. I haven’t felt this way since Fallujah. My lungs have been working overtime since he called, begging me to come protect his daughter, Sasha, from Forsaken scum.
Even though Viking went nomad after the Forsaken Kings killed his old lady, handing the gavel down to me, he’s still my brother, still the founding president of the Wicked Sinners MC.
I ignore the red and blue lights glaring through the raindrops, hopping off my bike. It’s when I see the bodies on the ground that I finally stop moving. One of them is a Forsaken grunt. The other is the man I would’ve laid my life down for, both in Iraq and Stateside, running our club.
“Fuck,” I breathe, grabbing my rain-slicked hair with both hands and pulling. “Don’t do this to me, brother.”
“Jenson.”
Numb, I turn around to face Morris, Briar Fork’s police chief.
“I’m sorry about Erik, son. I know you two were close,” he says, blinking water out of rheumy eyes.
Morris is years past when a sane man would retire from the force.
He went to school with my old man and has a soft spot for me.
One I took advantage of several times when handling club business in a way that would have most cops lock our asses up for life.
I shake my head. What should I fucking say? Viking’s dead. Over a decade ago, the Kings vowed to take him and his whole family out, and now they’re two for three.
“Where’s the girl?” I ask Morris, my voice sounding like it’s coming from someone else. “Viking’s kid?”
“Miss Halvorsen is inside with my officers. They’re asking her some questions.”
My lip curls up in a snarl, and I point at the dead King. “What kind of questions need to be fucking asked, Morris? It’s obvious who did this. Same assholes who got Savannah.”
Chief raises his hands in surrender. “Standard procedure, Jenson. There are people dead, you know how it is.”
“That’s her father on the ground, Chief. Last thing she needs is a bunch of questions from pigs.”
I turn my back on him before he can reply, crossing the distance to the front door without looking at Viking—not like this.
I take the steps two at a time and push on the splintered door.
It’s been years since I’ve been in this house.
Viking tried so fucking hard to keep everything away from his doorstep. For Sasha’s sake.
I hear the girl sobbing from the living room and the low voice of Penny—Officer Carpenter. A young male officer I don’t recognize raises a palm like he’s going to stop me, but I push past him with a glare.
“Mr. Slade, you can’t go in there,” he protests.
So he knows who I am.
Good.
I haven’t seen Viking’s daughter in years. A part of me expected a scrawny kid with round cheeks. The young woman who looks up at me from the couch, her eyes red and cheeks tearstained, is far from a child.
She’s not a kid anymore. When the hell did that happen?
Viking’s dead, his daughter could be next, and yet the first thought I have when seeing her is that she’s more beautiful than an angel.
“What are you doing, Penny?” I growl at the cop, aiming some of the anger and disgust inside me at her, a convenient target.
“We need to ask her some questions, Jenson. This is an active crime scene and—”
“Pack some of your shit,” I tell Sasha, interrupting a red-faced Penny. “We’re leaving.”
Sasha blinks up at me, her beautiful blue eyes swimming in tears.
“Wha—what? Who are you? Why?”
Fucking hell. Even her voice is angelic.
“I’m your old man’s best friend, darling,” I answer gruffly. “He called me asking to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m gonna do. The club’s going to handle everything for you.”
She shakes her head, her arms trembling in her lap.
“The… the club? What are you talking about?” Her voice turns a little hysterical. “I’m not going anywhere with you! This is my home.”
“Jenson…” Penny warns, her arm going around Sasha’s shoulders protectively. I only throw her a glare before kneeling in front of Sasha, so we’re at eye level. This close, her scent of wildflowers and thunderstorms invades my nostrils, making something tighten in my belly.
“Darling. It’s not safe here. You saw that tonight. Your old man protected you from the Kings, gave his life for it.” Her lower lip starts shaking, a sob catching in her throat. “Don’t let it be for nothing.”
“He called you?” she asks in a small voice.
Nodding, I reach out and place my palm on her knee. She’s icy cold.
“Yeah, darling. He knew I’d take care of you. That the club would take care of you. He tried taking you away from it, and it didn’t fucking work.”
“A… a motorcycle club?” she asks hesitantly.
Her innocence makes her seem younger. She’s, what, nineteen now?
If she had grown up around the club, she’d be a harder woman than she is now.
Civilian life made her soft. She’s the polar opposite of the club bunnies hanging around our compound, throwing themselves at patches hoping to become someone’s old lady.
I keep my voice calm, though my insides are churning. “Viking didn’t tell you anything about us? About who he was?”
Sasha shakes her head, her teeth biting down on her shivering bottom lip.
Shit.
“Alright, darling. We’ll explain everything. But you gotta get out of those wet clothes, you’re soaked through and colder than a freezer.”
I try to smile at her, but it fucking hurts, so I give up. Still, her eyes soften a bit, and after a moment of deliberation, she nods. I back off when she stands up, forcing myself to keep my eyes on her face.
“Go on, sweetheart. I’ll be right here,” I assure her.
The young male officer sputters when Sasha brushes past him to go upstairs. “You can’t just leave with our witness!”
“Watch me,” I snarl, crossing my arms at my chest. The motion pulls on my cut, making the worn leather creak.
“It’s fine,” Morris says from where he’d been lurking near the front door. “We can’t keep men on her for the next thirty years until everyone with a grudge against Viking is dead and buried. She either goes with Jenson or moves to the other side of the country.”
“Probably safest,” Penny mutters.
I look at her from the corner of my eye. Penny used to date Diesel, my VP, when they were in high school. When he joined the Sinners, she got a taste of the danger and tucked tail. Now she’s a cop. Fucking ironic.
“I’m calling in the prospects,” I tell Morris, ignoring her. “They’re gonna keep an eye on things while you do your shit.”
The young officer scoffs. “We don’t need rednecks on—”
“Shut your mouth, Officer Johnson,” Morris snaps. “Have some goddamned respect.”
The silence feels deafening. I don’t remember the last time Chief had to raise his voice.
It’s fucking hard for me, unbearable for Sasha, but I guess it can’t be easy for Morris to see a man who could’ve been his son gunned down in front of his own home.
With his teenage—because that’s what she fucking is—daughter crying upstairs, packing up her shit so she doesn’t have to stay in this house.
After a while, she comes back downstairs, a backpack in her hands and wearing dry jeans and a hoodie.
“Ready?” I ask her when she reaches us.
“Yeah,” she whispers, then sniffles. “I’m ready.”
“Good. One more thing, sweetheart. Where’s your old man’s cut?”
Sasha’s eyes narrow in confusion. “Cut?”
I blow air out of my nose. He really fucking didn’t tell her shit, did he? She knows nothing.
“A leather vest like mine,” I say, pointing a thumb at the front of my cut where my Prez patch is sewn in.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Yeah. I think I know where he kept it. Do you need me to get it, mister…”
“Call me Havoc,” I tell her, almost cringing. I’m probably just some old guy to her. “And yeah, darling. I want to keep it safe until the funeral.”
My words set her off again, tears spilling down her cheeks. Shakily, she nods, then walks back upstairs. I force my eyes to the backpack she left by my feet, picking it up and testing the weight.
So light. Ruth and Carol are going to have to make sure she has everything she needs.
I’ve been living in the compound for years, ever since I split up with my ex. I don’t even have a home I can put her in. She’s gonna be surrounded by booze and sweetbutts. But the compound is the only place where she’ll never be far from a brother. Far from me.
“Cover his body up for fuck’s sake,” I tell Morris. “I don’t want her looking at her dad like this.”
“I’m afraid she’s already seen it,” Penny says, a guilty note in her voice. “She ran up… I couldn’t stop her.”
“Shit,” I hiss, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Morris sends Johnson outside to cover Viking and wait for the medical examiner. I can’t stop to think about my best friend lying dead on the grass. Not yet. Not when his daughter needs me to stay strong.
Sasha comes back, her father’s cut carefully folded over one hand, gently petting it with her other.
Fuck. Seeing it hurts almost as much as what’s outside.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell her. “You got a leather jacket or something? We’re going on my bike.”
In a daze, she nods and opens a little coat closet to the side of the entry hallway.
“Bring her down to the station tomorrow, Jenson,” Morris tells me. “Not negotiable. She needs to sign her statement. I’m sorry, son,” he adds.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Me too.”
Half of me has been preparing for this since the Kings killed Sav. But I didn’t wake up today thinking I’m gonna lose my best friend. And I really didn’t think I’d have a hard time keeping my eyes off his daughter.
I’m going straight to hell. And Viking’s gonna be waiting there with his favorite Colt 1911 aimed right at my balls.