Page 6 of Havoc

Storm grumbled, “You think that shit’s funny because your old lady wasn’t here tonight.”

Cutting through their back and forth, I said, “Look, I know that I fucked up tonight, and I tend to fuck up more than the other brothers. I’ll do whatever you want to make this right.”

Storm seemed to have lost his will to continue arguing about the situation. He reached out to slap me on the shoulder. “Right now, we all need to start cleaning this mess up. Something needs to change with you, Havoc. I’ll think on that, and we’ll talk later, alright?”

I nodded and forced myself to speak over the lump forming in my throat. “Thank you, Prez. You know this club and the brotherhood mean everything to me.”

“To us all,” Storm agreed.

When we broke apart, Grit came up and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Just when I thought he was going to say something supportive, his big, muscular arm slid up around my neck and bent me forward into a chokehold.

“Were you playing Noah’s Ark with our clubhouse? You shoulda known that was a bad idea.” I felt him rubbing his knuckles on the top of my head. The asshole was giving me a fucking noogie while he laughed and teased me.

“That’s real mature. Get the fuck off me,” I said as I jackhammered my fist into his abs of steel. He didn’t even flinch. Fucker owned a gym, so of course, his abs weren’t his weak spot.

He playfully pushed me away. “Come on, let’s see if we can find some clean towels to start cleaning up this mess.”

I shot him a frown. “Are you even my friend? Sometimes, I seriously can’t tell.”

He smothered back a grin. “Well, you’ve still got hair on the top of your head, so I’m gonna say yes. If you weren’t my friend, I’d have rubbed you raw.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you, brother. I’m not sure what it is, but you’re definitely not right in the head sometimes.”

His smile died away. “Maybe growing up on the streets made me a little unhinged. I give all my normalcy to Ali and the kids.” Giving me a feral grin, he added, “That means you and the other brothers get all my crazy.”

His disclosure and the humor he used to talk about a dark time in his life melted away any annoyance I had. Matching his energy, I gave him a feral grin right back and gnashed my teeth at him for good measure. Thumping my wet chest with my fist, I said, “Bring it on, brother. I can handle all the crazy shit you can throw at me.”

He gave me a good-natured shove sideways. “Good, because it’s gonna be a long night.”

Chapter 3

Riley

Ihad been friends with Ali ever since she hired me to do some life coaching with her after her first child was born. At the time, she had a new husband, an adorable stepdaughter, a household to run, and she was helping her husband operate his fitness center. Needless to say, her plate had been full, and she had been getting increasingly overwhelmed. I had worked with her for a little over a month, focusing on things like making time for herself and understanding her value as a person.

Once things were moving along nicely, we parted ways. I remembered her as being such a kind, loving soul.

That was how I met Zoe. They were sisters. Both of their husbands were officers in the Dark Slayers MC. Those bikers from the bar the week before had also been members of the Dark Slayers. Looking back, I believed they’d acted out as a distraction to give the rest of us an opportunity to get out. Although we hadn’t had drugs on us, I hadn’t trusted Detective Slater not to say we did and arrest us anyway.

It was Zoe who had called me that morning to see if I could meet with her and her husband about working with one of their club members. I wasn’t sure what assistance I was expected to give a biker, but out of fondness for Zoe I agreed to do what I could.

When I got there, they had guys at the gate, and I had to show ID and sign in. I tried not to let my amusement show because it felt like being carded to enter a biker dive. Only, when I pulled up to the building, it was surprisingly nice—brick with large windows and a shingled roof. It had a sports bar feel from the outside.

Then I walked up the front steps and entered the clubhouse. The inside was nice as well. All the furniture matched, the walls were decorated with biker-themed art, and there was a big bar jutting out of one wall, with no one tending it. I glanced down at my wristwatch to find that it was only eight in the morning—a bit early for alcohol, though for some reason I thought the club members would be drinking at all hours. The place was squeaky clean and smelled like lemon-scented cleaning products. I had to give these bikers credit for running a tight ship, I was expecting debauchery, or at the very least, a frat house.

Zoe came out to greet me. “The prospects told me you arrived.” She reached out to shake my hand. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

Zoe glanced over her shoulder and then back at me. “Don’t thank me just yet. This might be the one job you regret taking.”

I smiled politely because Zoe was a well-respected member of our community. She ran a really popular local vlog that focused on crime and corruption. I assured her, “Don’t worry. I’ve had some pretty tough clients in the past.”

Her eyes flashed up to mine, and she blanched.

“What, that bad?” I asked.

She grimaced and then arranged her face into a smile, “Not bad, just frustrating.”

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