Chapter 14 Havoc
HAVOC
Itilt my head to the side, cracking my neck, then change directions. Ever since the first time we fucked, Sasha has been insatiable, and my dick and I can’t seem to be able to say no to her.
“You alright, Prez?” Ryder drawls, giving me a shit-eating grin. “Trouble sleeping?”
Next to him, Ace is drumming his fingers against the church table, dark shadows under his eyes that match mine, even though the boy is a decade and a half younger than me. Looks like I’m not the only one sleeping badly.
“I remember what it was like,” Tank says wistfully, running a hand through his beard. “When you get a young old lady. They got all this energy.”
He makes a thrusting motion with his hands that turns my stomach. The old man’s making me picture him tapping ass, and I don’t want to think about him or Ruth naked.
I sigh, rapping my knuckles against the tabletop. “Right, matters at fucking hand, gentlemen.” I nod my chin at Ace and Ryder. “What did the prospects learn at Lucky’s? Any clue on who took down Vike?”
I want to be able to tell my old lady that her father’s death was avenged. And I need to know that she’s safe and off their fucking radar.
Ace shakes his head. “Nothing solid yet, Prez. They’re trying to get in with the Forsaken. They don’t wanna be pushy. Shit takes time.”
“And we can trust them not to jump ships?” Reaper asks, his voice low and serious.
Riot and Trigger sit up straighter, Trig speaking up with a growl. “You think we’d sponsor men we can’t trust?”
Riot nods, shooting the younger man a glare. “I sponsored you, boy. Remember?”
Reaper puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Someone’s gotta ask. And I’m only ten years younger than you, stop actin’ like you’re my grandpa.”
Our sergeant-at-arms rolls his eyes in a way that doesn’t fit his rugged appearance. “You know you’re cleaning my dentures down the line, right?”
Viper makes a gagging sound, but Reaper grins. “Yeah, right after you suck my dick. A nice gummy blowjob.”
“Damn it, man,” Bone says, wrinkling his nose. “None of that fairy stuff at the table.”
Viper clicks his tongue. “Homophobia in this day and age, Bone? We ride for the Parade, for fuck’s sake.”
Bone turns red. “Fuck it, brothers, I’m old. In my day, gay jokes in a club would’ve gotten you killed.”
While everyone’s ripping Bone a new asshole, I notice the way Ace stopped tapping against the table, his hand clenched in a fist. His laughter lags for only a second behind everyone else, but it makes me wonder what’s eating at him. Maybe we gotta talk, make sure his head’s in the game.
I clear my throat. “With the money in from our last run—” I pause to let the cheers die down. “I thought we could start building out back. Get our architect in and planning. Grease palms to get a rush job on permits.”
“Havoc’s eager to play house with his young old lady,” Preacher says with a wink.
I don’t deny it. “Fucking tired of having to put pants on to get a drink in the middle of the night,” I say instead.
“Get a mini fridge,” Gunner suggests. It sounds innocent enough, but I see the gleam in his eyes.
“Stop giving me shit, or I’m taking your patch,” I grumble, though I have to fight off a smile.
That’s what Sasha does to me—she makes me fucking smile at the thought of her, even at church.
“Tank and I will take care of it, Prez,” Bone says, and I nod with gratitude. I can always rely on our secretary and treasurer to get shit done.
“Appreciate it.” I pick up the gavel and look around the table one more time. “Anything else? Or I’m going to Knoxville to order a cut made.”
Diesel slaps my back. More cheers. More happiness. About fucking time something good’s happening around here.
“We’ll get the womenfolk to throw another party,” Tank says once the wolf whistles die down, his girth making his chair squeak underneath him. “No kids this time.”
“Hell yeah,” Trigger cheers. “I plan on drowning in pussy, reminding myself why I don’t want an old lady.”
Bullet punches him in the shoulder. “Ah fuck, man. You just jinxed the fuck out of yourself, and that shit’s contagious.”
I slam the gavel down, cutting off the chit-chat. “Alright, ladies. Plan your weddings on your own time. Get outta here.”
Outside of church, I spot Sasha sitting with Carol, so I head over there. I lean down and grab the back of her head, pulling her toward me for a quick kiss.
“I gotta go take care of something, darling,” I murmur against her soft lips. I spot the worry in her clear blue eyes before she opens her mouth to speak.
“Will you be safe?” she asks quietly.
Been a while since I had someone worry about me. Need to get used to the feeling again.
“Of course,” I reassure her, then press my lips against hers one more time. “Back in a few hours, then you can show me how your riding lessons with Bluebell are going.”
Eli Redbird, a Native friend of the club, has been coming over several times a week, teaching her things about horses I never fucking even thought of.
Her cheeks turn scarlet, and Carol snickers from the other side of the couch.
I scoff, tightening my grip on her hair. “I meant literally, baby girl. I already know how good you are at riding me.”
“Havoc,” she hisses as Carol starts cackling. “We’re not alone.”
“No shit, darling,” I drawl, straightening up. “They should all know who you belong to, and it’s not like I fucked you right here in front of everyone.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Sasha freezes, her eyes popping open. And, fuck, my jeans suddenly feel way too fucking tight.
“Maybe you’d like that,” I growl, reaching down to adjust myself. Sasha’s eyes follow the motion as she numbly shakes her head.
Carol clicks her tongue. “Get out of here, boy, it’s too early for all that. Haven’t had my fourth cup of coffee yet.”
I raise an eyebrow and point a finger in her direction. “First of all, you’re not that much older than me. And second of all, you’re old enough to know you shouldn’t be drinking that much coffee.”
“Well, that successfully killed my lady boner,” Ruth calls out from the bar. Tank laughs, his face buried in his old lady’s big hair.
“Bunch of old perverts,” Viper mutters from where he’s chalking his cue at the pool table. At the bar, Kade stops polishing a glass and nods in agreement.
“You,” I snap, making his eyes turn to me in a flash. He drops the glass, barely catching it before it hits the counter. “You don’t have the right to bitch about anything, prospect.”
“I wasn’t—I didn’t say anything,” he tries to defend himself.
“Saw it on your face, kid.” I tilt my head, considering. “You know what,” I begin. “Go fix the toilet on the second floor. Preacher took a shit last week, and it hasn’t flushed since.”
Sasha makes a gagging sound, but I don’t look at her, worried I’ll crack a smile.
“Oof, that bathroom’s ripe,” Bullet snickers as he slaps Kade’s back.
“Shame we don’t have any biohazard masks,” Diesel adds.
Wyatt walks in then, carrying a crate of beer. “What do we need masks for?”
“Don’t ask,” Tank rumbles. “Not unless you wanna join your fellow prospect on a shitty job.”
“Shitty, alright,” Viper cackles, and my composure slips as I bark out a laugh.
“That toilet better be flushed and sparkling by the time I get back from Knoxville,” I tell Kade. I throw Sasha one last wink and stride out to where my baby’s parked.
My blacked-out Low Rider is warm from the morning sun. I pat the seat like a lover’s ass before I straddle the bike and kick it to life. The engine roars beneath me, making my blood sing in chorus. I let it idle for a second and glance back at the clubhouse. Where Sasha is—my old lady.
Time to make it official. Or at least get the ball rolling.
Tennessee opens up around me as I leave Briar Fork behind. Trees blur past in deep shades of emerald, the sky overhead wide and blue. It’s a goddamn beautiful day, and I regret not taking Sasha with me. Could’ve made an excuse and had her wait outside while I gave my order to Martha.
Fuck me, I really am turning into a whipped pussy. I grin against the warm wind. Didn’t imagine it’d feel this good.
I’m not at the county border yet when a police cruiser pulls out behind me, lights, sirens.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter to myself.
I recognize the man stepping out immediately, his gait a familiar thing over decades of traffic stops.
“Chief,” I greet him.
“Jenson,” he says in return as he walks to my side. “You know you’re supposed to be wearing a helmet.”
“That’s right,” I say, acting like I just forgot.
I reach into my saddle bag and pull out my brain bucket. While I’d never let Sasha ride without a full helmet, a skull cap is enough for me. At least enough to keep the law off my ass.
“How’s the girl?” Morris asks as I strap it on, forced casualness in his voice.
“Oh, she’s great,” I say with a smile as fake as the rest of this conversation. Any moment now, the old man’s gonna say what’s really on his mind.
I don’t have to wait long.
“I hope you’re not letting someone take advantage of her youth and innocence.”
Bingo.
“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it,” I retort, earnest as I can fucking be. “No one’s laying a single finger on her.”
Morris’ shoulders drop with relief. “That’s good. Thank you.”
“Don’t gotta thank me,” I mutter. “Am I free to go, Chief? I need to get to our patch maker in Knoxville.”
He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, Jenson. Ride safe.”
“You ever gonna call me Havoc?” I ask as I kick my Harley back to life.
“Probably not,” the old man replies, this time with an honest smile on his face.
“Fair,” I mumble, pulling back onto the road with one last nod.
The rest of the ride to Knoxville goes without incident. My thoughts keep drifting back to Sasha and the impact her presence’s had on my life. The way she looked at me before I left. Soft. Worried.
Been a long time since anyone’s looked at me like that. Like I was something worth worrying about. Worth belonging to. And not just because of my position as president of the MC running our little town. Instead, Sasha sees me as her man.
I don’t know what to do with it. Don’t know if I deserve it. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting more.
I roll past a stretch of open land, fields glowing gold in the sun. A farmhouse sits in the distance, quiet, untouched. Normal life.
Never wanted it before. Still don’t.
But with her? Fuck. Can a man like me have anything close to normal?
Knoxville starts rising up ahead, traffic picking up as I get closer. Soon, I’m surrounded by strip malls, gas stations, and people living their normal lives.
I ease off the throttle, but heads still turn like they always do. Black bike. Blacked-out leather. Ink crawling up my arms. I don’t exactly scream law-abiding citizen.
I take a turn down a quieter street, pulling up in front of the leather shop the club’s been using for years. No flashy signs. No bullshit. That’s where I’ll find George and Martha.
The bell tinkles above me when I open the door, and George looks up from the counter, greeting me with a smile.
“Havoc,” he rumbles as I slap my hand against his in a handshake. “You know we have a phone, right?”
I shake my head. “We’ve always come in person, and we always will.”
“Fair enough,” he says breezily, but I see the respect in his eyes. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Need a cut. For a woman. Medium tall, willowy,” I rattle off.
George nods, not needing a notepad or anything to write it down—he’ll get on it first thing.
“Martha!” he yells over his shoulder. “Got a Sinners job.”
“Alright, alright,” Martha grumbles, shuffling in from the back. “No need to yell, I’m not deaf yet.” Her eyes go to me, softening marginally. “Hi, handsome. What do you need from me?”
I take a deep breath. “A property patch.”
“That’s easy,” she says with a smile. “Who for?”
“Me,” I reply, the word seeming to echo around us. “It’s for my old lady. Property of Havoc.”