Chapter 37
Leeva
The change in Hayes is instant. One moment, he’s looking like he’s going to drown me in pleasure and love, and the next, he’s the deadly, ruthless man I know he’s capable of being.
He’s the Havoc Guardians sergeant-at-arms and road captain; the government-trained war machine.
He’s a wild animal ready to rip an opponent—no, an enemy—to shreds with his bare hands.
The change is so shocking and intense that my only thought is, Guerilla is here. He’s found me and has come to take me away from Hayes.
But when my eyes follow to where Hayes is staring—at a man sitting at the bar, scanning the room—it’s not Guerilla. But I do recognize that man from somewhere; I just can’t place him.
Hayes spins us around, then we’re moving with his arm wrapped protectively around me.
“What’s going on?” I’m breathless, trying not to stumble in my stilettos.
Stupid, impractical shoes.
He doesn’t lead us toward the exit, though. Instead, we leave the main room of the club and enter what looks like a staff hallway. He pulls out his cell phone—as the owner of the place, he didn’t have to leave it in his locker.
“Riveria, I need you in the office. Right fucking now.” He disconnects the call.
“Hayes, what’s going on?”
He shakes his head, thumbing through his contacts while keeping a possessive arm around me and leading us through the labyrinth of hallways.
He selects Ash’s contact. “I need an extraction. No one from the MC. Top priority. Hedon.” He listens to what Ash says, then gives a curt nod.
“She’ll be ready. Tell them to call me when they arrive. ”
Who will be ready? Me?
We hurry up a set of stairs, and at the top, Hayes punches in a code, then we enter an office. He rips his mask off, his ebony hair a bit sweaty and mussed, and I pull my mask off as well.
“What’s going on, Hayes? Who was that man?”
He paces, fisting his hands. “You didn’t recognize him?”
Then it hits me, but I can’t recall the man’s name. “He’s a member of the Havoc Guardians.”
“Not just any member. He’s Razor…Grinder’s father.”
“Oh shit,” I whisper, sinking onto the sofa.
I know who Grinder is and what happened to him. I know what Hayes had to do: mete out the punishment for Grinder’s sin because of their stupid, asinine, fucked law. The same stupid, asinine, fucked law that Hayes is technically breaking.
I also know that Hayes doesn’t allow any members of the MC to have memberships here, and that only a select few even know that they own it.
The office door opens, and he whirls, pulling out a gun from inside his suit jacket.
Jesus Christ.
Riveria holds her hands up, her eyes wide with shock. “Army, what the fuck?”
He puts the gun in his waistband and jerks his chin at the door.
She closes it, glancing at me. “Hello, Kathryn,” she says, since we’ve met to do the intake interview for me to become a member of the club.
“It’s actually Leeva.” I wave my fingers in hello. “But hi.”
Her dark eyes move from me to Hayes. “What’s going on?”
“Why the hell is there a member of the Havoc Guardians downstairs in the main room?” he growls.
“There can’t be. I vet ruthlessly and religiously.”
“Then either one of the staff let him in, or he slipped in as a guest with another member.”
“Who is it?” Riveria moves—well, more like glides, as this woman is all sensual and sexual grace—to her desk.
“He wouldn’t have used his actual name to get in here.” Hayes stalks over to the desk and looks over her shoulder at the computer monitor. “Pull up the security footage.”
“This could take time to find him entering—and the how and with who—if I don’t know who to look for,” she warns.
He shoves his hand through his hair, the slight dampness of it making it stick up.
I’ve never seen Hayes like this. Even when we were younger, he always approached crisis situations with a level-headed, pragmatic approach that would’ve only been honed further as a Marine.
But with the magnitude of the situation and what it could mean that Razor was here, in a club where he absolutely should not be in…
Hayes is reacting to the threat; not against him, but for what this could mean for me.
Worst-case scenario is that people know I’m back, know that he’s been touching forbidden territory, and enemies are banding together to return me to Guerilla and to ensure that Hayes meets the same punishment as Grinder.
But that’s not what’s happening. Right?
Panic rips through me, and I jerk to my feet from the sofa, unsteady on my stilettos. Then I bolt for the door.
I make it there but don’t get the door all the way open, because a strong hand plants on it and slams it shut. I’m spun around and pinned to the door, and Hayes’ blue eyes are tumultuous.
He holds his cell to his ear and speaks without taking his eyes off me.
“Digits, go through Hedon’s security footage with your program to find Razor.
” He pauses and listens. “Yes, that’s the reason for Leeva’s extraction.
I need to find out who let him in. Once you have the timestamp he arrived, reverse trace his route here through the CCTVs if you can. ”
He disconnects the call and pockets his cell with his gaze still locked with mine. “You are not running.”
“Hayes—”
“You are. Not. Running.”
“He could be here because of me.” I tilt my chin, refusing the tears that want to push forth. “I won’t be the cause of your death.”
“You. Are. Not. Guerilla’s,” he snarls.
“Um, if I may?”
“What, Riveria?” he barks without taking his eyes off me while he continues to pin me to the door.
“Could this Razor guy be the one who was responsible for the fake accusations against Hedon and the search warrant with fabricated evidence?”
“Razor isn’t that strategic.” When Hayes sees I’m not going to try to run—at least, for the time being—he pulls me away from the door, wraps his arm around my waist. “Razor is a gun, a grunt. He follows orders. He’s damn good at following orders, but he’d never be the mastermind behind the attack against Hedon. ”
Unease and dread swirl in my gut. “Guerilla could be, though…”
“Who is this Guerilla asshole?” She looks between us.
“My cunt of a brother. Blood brother,” Hayes clarifies for her, so she’s aware he’s more than just a fellow member of the MC.
She considers with her fingers hovering over her keyboard. “So where is this cunt of a blood brother?”
“I don’t know,” he grits, looking back at me. “But you’re right. This smells exactly like the shit he’d do to hit at me. Never coming directly at me, but still hitting me where it hurts.”
“If that is the case”—I swallow hard against my dry throat—“then we have to assume he’s back. And knows about Hedon. Probably knows about me.”
“We don’t know that, little dove.” He pulls me tighter into his side.
Relentless energy and fear run through me.
“Why would he be back and strike at you now, if not for me? You said it yourself that you haven’t seen him since I ran over a decade ago.
And now that I’m back…” I’m starting to hyperventilate, thinking of all the possibilities.
“He might have known I was Kathryn Wentzell but couldn’t get to me before. But then, when I returned…”
My words cut off as my breathing turns shallow and rapid.
I always knew Guerilla wanted me back—he had chased me and nearly caught me in New Orleans.
I didn’t fool myself; I knew it wasn’t because he loved me.
Looking back, I can see that he was obsessed with me, but not because of me or for me; it was all about Hayes.
He knew I was important to Hayes; he might even have known that Hayes loved me, even though I was too blind to see it.
Guerilla has always been a master manipulator.
The na?ve, young version of me couldn’t see it back then, but distance, time, and maturity let me see it for what it was.
From the start, even when he was ‘courting’ me before I turned eighteen, he constantly tried to drive a wedge between Hayes and me.
He hated our friendship, and he used to go on and on about the woman that Hayes fucked, which I know now is a lie because he remained a virgin until I became Guerilla’s old lady.
Even when I told Guerilla I was pregnant, his reply was a smug smile and how he couldn’t wait to tell Uncle Hayes. I mean, I couldn’t wait to tell him either, because I was ecstatic about being a mom, even though I was way too young and never should’ve been with the father.
And now… Now, all this.
I know deep in my gut that this is all Guerilla. Somehow, I just know.
Which means that, for him to have been able to strike at Hayes and Hedon only days after I’d returned, he was watching for me or having me followed, somehow knew I was Kathryn Wentzell, and probably knows all about Hayes.
And for him to have been able to do all that means he has scary-ass skills or connections to people with scary-ass skills for everything he’d need for this. To track me, to convince both a judge and an assistant DA to use loose and weak evidence for a search warrant, to…
Oh god.
I’m full-on hyperventilating now, and just realizing that I’ve been spiralling in my head, and Hayes is trying to talk to me, and I can’t focus…
All I want to do is run. Run to keep him safe, because I’m going to be the thing that gets him killed.
I want to run, but black spots are dotting my vision because I can’t breathe.
“Deep breaths, Leeva.” He cups my shoulders and leans down so we’re eye-level. “Deep breaths, my girl. In and out. Match mine.”
I focus on him, mirroring his deep inhalation and slow exhalation until my breathing and heart rate calm.
“If this is Guerilla,” he says, calm and steady, cupping my face, “he won’t get his hands on you. He won’t take you from me.”
“It’s you I’m worried about.”
His expression is dark. “I’ll take care of him.”