Chapter 4 Havoc
HAVOC
Islam the empty glass onto the bartop, the whiskey not even trying to burn my throat anymore. I can’t tell if the warmth in my stomach is from the booze, the grief, or the thoughts of my fallen brother’s daughter.
“I feel like something’s eating at you, brother,” Diesel says from my side. He taps his knuckles against the worn wood of the bar, his heavy rings making a knocking sound. “Something other than burying Vike today.”
“What makes you say that?” I mutter, keeping my eyes on the bottom of my glass.
He leans in, speaking low enough that only I can hear him. “Maybe the fact that your eyes have been followin’ the kid wherever she fucking goes.”
My fingers curl around the glass.
“Just worried about keeping her safe.”
Not sure I sound convincing to my own ears. My VP’s smart. He sees through the bullshit. That’s why he’s my number two.
“Right,” he drawls now, watching one of our prospects, Kade, take another vodka cranberry to where she’s sitting with the old ladies.
Kade’s the youngest guy here. Barely older than Sasha. He’d be a good match for her if he works out and patches in. Keep her safe.
Glass splinters and shards pepper the bar. I look down at my bleeding hand like it belongs to someone else. More scars for the collection.
“Give the man another round, prospect,” Diesel tells Wyatt as I reach for a cloth to mop up the blood. “Looks like he needs it.”
Sherry, a sweetbutt I occasionally let ride my dick, slides onto the stool at my other side, her hand grabbing mine and cooing at it.
“Need me to kiss it better, Prez?” she asks, seductively. Has her voice always been so fucking annoying? I never noticed before.
“Probably needs you to kiss something else, doll,” Diesel snickers before taking a swig of his beer.
“Love to,” she purrs. “Right here, baby?”
I push her wandering hands off with a grunt. “We’re at a wake, for fuck’s sake. Fucking kids around.”
“Right.” She giggles nervously. “Wanna head to the back?”
I rub my face with my uninjured hand. “Just fuck off, Sherry. Not in the mood.”
She slinks away without another word, knowing her place. Diesel waits until she’s out of earshot before smirking at me.
“Would be the first time you’re not in the mood to get your dick sucked, brother. I think you’re just not in the mood to get your dick sucked by Sherry.”
“I gotta tell you to fuck off too?” I growl as I reach for my new glass.
Diesel backs off with his hands up.
“Give you a pass under the circumstances. But we’re gonna talk about the babe in the room tomorrow.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t call her that.”
“Touchy, touchy,” he singsongs before stalking over to Honey, one of his favorite club bunnies. Diesel has a type, and they all look a helluva lot like Officer Carpenter. Maybe the motherfucker shouldn’t be throwing any stones.
Without the distraction he offered, my eyes go to Sasha again.
Like fucking magnets. She’s blinking hard, either trying to focus or trying not to cry.
Judging by the way she’s swaying, it could be a bit of both.
I’m not sure if I should cut her off or let her drink herself into a stupor—it’s her father’s funeral after all.
And I’m doing my best to get there myself.
I knock back another shot like it’s water, then tap on the bartop. “One more, prospect.”
“Yes, sir.”
My eyes go to Kade, who’s mixing more drinks for the women.
“Prospect,” I call, nodding my chin at him so he knows who I’m speaking to.
“Yeah, Prez?” he asks respectfully.
“She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she?”
The question comes out gravelly, and Kade blinks at me.
“I’m sorry?”
Not yet, but you will be.
“Viking’s girl,” I explain. “Real beauty, am I right? An angel.”
“I, ah…” he stammers. “Yeah?”
Kade slides the whiskey my way, and I grab it, downing it in one go before continuing.
“Maybe she could use a shoulder to cry on tonight,” I say, the words tasting like acid in my throat. What the fuck am I doing?
Kade’s shaking his head. “Wouldn’t be right, Prez. She just lost her dad. Would be a shitty fucking move, takin’ advantage like that.”
I look down at my scarred hands, the heavy rings, the tattoos.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Shitty fucking move.”
Maybe I’ve been in one too many fistfights. Some screw got knocked loose in my head. Why else would I be pushing Kade at Sasha?
“Trying to get the kid killed?” Tank asks, his fat ass taking Diesel’s empty stool.
I grunt. “Maybe.”
Tank signals for a drink. “Probably not the best idea with the feud escalating again.”
“Nope,” I agree, but don’t offer more.
Tank smoothes a palm over his gray beard. “Been around longer than most. Only Bone’s got me beat, and not by much.”
“Your point, old man?”
I’m so attuned to Sasha that I notice instantly when she gets up and wobbles to the back on unsteady legs.
“My point is, I’ve seen plenty of unlikely pairings in this world. Goin’ after a brother’s daughter, even if he is dead, that’d be a first.”
I force myself to release the glass I’m holding. Don’t want to bloody my other hand too.
“I’m just keeping her safe, Tank,” I say slowly. “Ain’t nothing more to it.”
“Right,” he says, sounding unconvinced.
Thankfully, his old lady swoops in like a bird of prey, nagging at him for mixing alcohol with his meds.
“We buried a brother today, Ruth!” he growls at her. I’ve had enough, though.
I push away with a muttered word neither pays attention to, and scan the clubhouse for Sasha, frowning when I don’t see her. Carol’s on Bone’s lap, something I didn’t need to see on an empty stomach. And she’s not with the sweetbutts, though they’re no crowd for a girl like her anyway.
A girl like what, Havoc?
“An angel,” I mumble to myself. “A fucking angel.”
After checking every corner and glancing outside, I head to the back. Maybe she’s gone to bed?
But no. The room we gave her—a room that’s next to mine—is empty.
I’m starting to worry, my heart picking up speed, my skin itching from adrenaline. Could the Kings have snatched her right out of our clubhouse? No. No fucking way. She has to be here somewhere.
I check my room next—maybe she got confused. When I find it as empty as I left it, I check Diesel’s. He’s banging Honey against the wall, neither of them looking my way when I open the door. That just leaves one door in this hallway. The bathroom Diesel and I share. And now her.
“Sasha?” I call out, knocking loudly. “You in there, darling?”
At first, I don’t hear anything. Then there’s a groan. Did she fall, hit her head?
Fuck. I’m not waiting for Ruth or Carol to get here.
I open the door and find Sasha kneeling on the tiles, upper body sprawled over the toilet.
“Shit, sweetheart," I groan, crouching by her side.
Her face is pale, and she looks a bit green around the gills. When’s the last time she ate a proper meal? Have the old ladies managed to get her to force something down?
After dampening a washcloth, I pull her into my arms and clean her mouth and chin, despite her weak protests. Her eyelids flutter open and closed, but she doesn’t focus on me. No point in trying to get her to brush her teeth, so I grab my mouthwash and force some into her mouth.
“Don’t drink it. Swish it around and spit,” I order, helping her over the toilet again. “Good girl,” I add when she obeys.
Feels too fucking good to call her that, and something inside me wakes up, rearing its perverted head out of the cesspool of my kinks. I always liked having control in the sack, dominating women. But it feels different with Sasha. I’m a sick fuck.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed,” I murmur, picking her up in my arms. She feels too light, like a stiff wind could knock her over. Helpless.
I manage to tuck her in without getting puked on, but she does groan a few more times as I jostle her. What if she throws up and chokes on it?
“God fucking damnit,” I mutter, sitting my ass down on the chair next to her bed. I’m going to feel this in the morning, that’s guaranteed. “Too old to sleep on chairs, darling.”
But I’ll do it anyway. Because this girl has already wormed her way in somehow. Not gonna risk it.
Things quiet down as brothers drink themselves into a coma or pair off with women for the night.
It’s rarely silent here, though. That’s why we’ve been talking about making houses for members on the lot behind the clubhouse, leading up to the forest that borders our property.
Maybe with Sasha here, I should make that a priority…
I don’t look away from her face as my eyes slowly close. A fucking angel, even now with her face red and puffy, her mouth slightly open in her sleep. Last thought I have before I drift off is that I’ll kill anyone who hurts her with my bare fucking hands.