Page 32 of Havoc

“I don’t know.” The words came out in a whisper. “All I know is that he’s completely unhinged. I don’t know if he was bluffing, or if he’s going to come back and break down our door with a bunch of his cop buddies... or if he’ll finally stay the hell away. But one thing is clear—we can’t fight this on our own.”

Dae swallowed hard. Her shoulders were stiff, eyes wide. I didn’t blame her. It’s not every day a police officer threatens to murder you in broad daylight.

“So,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “you’re going to take my advice and go to your biker friend?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “If anyone knows how to deal with something like this... it’s the Dark Slayers MC.”

I pulled out my phone and texted Havoc.

Me:Need to see you. Now.

Havoc:Miss me already?

Me:I need help that only you can give.

My fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen. Then I typed the rest.

Me:It’s about Detective Slater.

The reply came instantly.

Havoc:Where are you right now?

Me:I’m at my apartment.

Havoc:Text me your address. I’ll be there right away.

I entered my address and hit send.

Dae was watching me closely. “What did he say?”

I clutched my phone in both hands and pressed it to my forehead. “He’s on his way.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something hopeful, but all that came out was a sigh. “Sounds like he might be the white knight you’ve been looking for.”

She disappeared into the kitchen. “I’m gonna make us some coffee,” she added, but her voice was thin and distant, the trauma still etched into every word.

Chapter 11

Havoc

Ihad just stepped out of the shower and was about to catch some shut-eye when my phone buzzed. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth when I saw who the text was from—Riley. The same woman I’d just spent the entire night with. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

But her text wasn’t playful. It was short. Tight. Urgent.

I need you. Now.

It’s about Detective Slater.

Just seeing that bastard’s name made my blood boil.

I didn’t waste a second. I got dressed, grabbed my keys, and threw myself onto my bike. I rode like hell through town, pushing the engine hard and eating pavement like it was nothing. When I finally skidded to a stop outside her apartment building, the place was silent. Too silent. Like something awful had just gone down and the walls were still echoing with it.

I took the stairs two at a time, anxiety coiling tighter in my gut with every step.

Her door was locked, but someone else answered—a petite Asian woman who looked like she’d just stared death in the face. The second she recognized me, she opened the door wide, pulled me inside, and slammed it shut behind me. I heard the locks click back into place. She double-checked the deadbolt and tried the knob twice, like she couldn’t convince herself it was real.

Then she backed away, still visibly shaken.

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