Havoc (Storm MC 7)

“Do you prefer steak or chicken?”

“Steak.” I followed Davey out of the library as I answered her. When he turned to walk in the opposite direction to where he’d parked, my attention strayed from the phone call to him.

Where the fuck is he going?

“Okay, steak it is,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

We ended the call as Davey entered the park next to the library. I held back and waited to see what he planned to do there. It was only a small park with a few swings and one shaded table to sit at. A few mothers were there with their kids and as I watched Davey walk past them, another guy caught my eye.

I squinted so I could make out what they were doing.

The guy spoke first and then Davey grabbed his shirt and appeared to threaten him because fear crossed the guy’s face at that point. A moment later, he produced a package from his jacket and handed it to Davey.

Bingo.

As Davey exited the park with a smug expression, I changed course.

I followed the other guy.

* * *

He works for Jackson?

I’d followed the guy back to Jackson’s warehouse and as I killed the engine on my bike, I wondered what the fuck he had going with Davey. I also wondered how long I’d be sitting outside waiting for him.

It was nearing four and my dick ached to get back to Carla. I had plans for her that night that included me getting the fuck back to the motel as fast as possible. Plans that didn’t include sitting around waiting for some schmuck while he fucked about inside Jackson’s warehouse.

The door to the warehouse opened and the guy walked out.

Well shit, maybe this won’t take long after all.

He walked to his car and I followed him as he drove through the streets of Sydney to a small house about fifteen minutes away. After he entered the house, I parked my bike and headed around to the back. As I walked through a well-cared for garden that led to a back yard that had bras and panties hanging on the clothesline, I decided he either lived with a woman or this was a woman’s home.

I’d have to be careful.

The back door was unlocked and I easily entered the house. Male and female voices filtered through the hall and I walked in their direction. Startled eyes met mine when I hit the kitchen.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy advanced towards me, but the woman grabbed his shirt and pulled him back.

I held up my hands. “Easy, man. I’ve just got a few questions to ask you.”

His brows raised. “So you just break into my home to do that? Who the fuck does that?”

I ignored the scared pleas of his woman to leave them alone. My intention wasn’t to hurt them, but they didn’t need to know that yet. “You work for Jackson Jones, yeah?”

The woman’s hand flew to her mouth and she screamed out, “Oh, my God, Paul! You told me he would never find out!”

I watched as she started to lose her shit. Tears streamed down her face and her body shook. She curled into the guy who put his arm around her to try to console her.

Paul’s cold eyes met mine. “He knows, doesn’t he? Fuck! Davey promised me he wouldn’t say anything, but I should have known that good-for-nothing asswipe wouldn’t keep his word.”

“I don’t work for Jackson if that?

?s what you think.” I wanted them to keep talking, but I didn’t want to give too much away.

His forehead pinched into a frown. “Well who the fuck do you work for, then?”