Page 2 of The First Cut
I answer anyway, knowing Havoc’s neck will be on the line if I don’t. “Hello?”
“Put Havoc on the phone,” he grunts.
“He’s working on his dad’s bike. I’ll get?—”
“I don’t have all day, girl,” he barks at me.
I don’t say anything, I just head outside.
“Havoc,” I shout and wait as he turns around. He grins at me, and something inside me breaks a little more. I love him so damn much, yet he can’t see that I’m slowly fading away right in front of him.
“It’s Khan,” I tell him as he jogs over and plants a kiss on my lips before taking the phone from me.
I head back inside, knowing Khan wouldn’t want me overhearing anything. In his eyes, women are only good for fucking and feeding the brothers. He might not say that shitaround Havoc, but I’ve heard him with some of the others—Driller, Havoc’s brother, being one of the worst.
If there’s anyone I disliked more than Khan, it’s him. Something about the way Driller looks at me makes my skin crawl. Thankfully, he and Havoc aren’t close. Havoc might bail him out of trouble whenever he gets himself into trouble—which is quite a lot,thanks to Driller’s inability to act like an adult—but at least I never have to worry about him sitting at my table and breaking bread with the man.
I head to the coffee machine and start a pot, but at the last minute, I swap out the regular coffee for decaf.
“I’ve gotta head to the clubhouse.”
I look over my shoulder when Havoc walks up behind me.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back, so don’t bother cooking. I’ll pick something up on the way home or send a prospect over with something for you if I’m running late.”
His hands move to my hips before he yanks me to him and buries his face in my hair.
“That’s fine. I’ll probably just curl up on the sofa and watch something on TV.” I turn and look up at him. I need to tell him about the baby.
“Havoc…” My voice cracks.
“What’s wrong?”
But before I can say anything else, his phone chimes. I offer him one of my fake smiles, which makes me want to scream when he doesn’t call me on it, and shake my head.
I’ll tell him later, when he gets back. It’s also time I told him just how much I’m struggling.
“Nothing. It doesn't matter. Love you.”
“Love you too,” he says, kissing my forehead, making my eyes sting as I fight back tears. He grabs his cut from the back of the chair and pulls it on.
“I’ll text you and let you know what’s happening.”
“Okay, bye,” I whisper as I watch him walk away. He pauses, and in my head, I’m begging him to stay, to help me fix what is broken between us. But then his phone chimes, and he’s gone–the door slamming shut behind him.
I turn and grip the kitchen counter, dropping my head. I wonder when this house stopped feeling like home. It was probably around the same time Havoc started to feel less like mine and more like Khan’s. With a sigh, I run my hands through my hair and lift my head, deciding to soak in the tub for a while.
So I grab one of the books I picked up at the grocery store today and spend the next few hours losing myself in a world full of dragons.
It’s not until the water’s gone cold that I realize how late it’s gotten. I chuckle at how many hours I’ve lost reading, but I know there are worse habits. I climb out and towel off before slipping on one of Havoc’s T-shirts.
I pad over to the nightstand where I left my phone charging and frown when I see that Havoc hasn’t texted me.
It’s nine-thirty, so I’m guessing he forgot all about having food sent over for me. That’s okay. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately anyway.
I head downstairs and make myself a couple of slices of toast and another coffee as I never did drink the first one. I curl up on the sofa and turn on the crime channel, getting drawn into an episode of Cold Cases—one where the husband’s crying on screen.
“He did it,” I mumble to myself.
