Havoc (Storm MC 7)

Nodding, she agreed. “Only problem is that I need the money.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure you could get another waitressing gig.”

Her lips pursed together and she sighed. Running her hand through her hair, she asked, “Why does life have to be so damn hard sometimes?”

Before I could answer that, her boss bellowed out, “Carla! My office now.”

“Fuck,” she muttered, and then added, “Yep, he’s gonna get rid of me. I’ll see you in a minute.”

I figured she knew what she was on about so I waited outside for her. She didn’t take long, joining me a couple of minutes later. Disappointment was etched on her face as she said, “Get me out of here, Havoc. Take me far, far away.”

In that moment, the barriers I had built began to wash away. I’d decided a long time ago that I didn’t want any fucker getting close to me anymore; didn’t want them to have any power over me and I certainly didn’t want to help them deal with the shit in their lives. After wanting so much in life, and losing everything I’d worked hard for years ago, all I wanted these days was the shirt on my back and my bike. Yet, Carla standing before me, with a wearied and beaten aura to her, threatened to rip my barriers down.

Against all my better judgements, and against the voice screaming out No in my mind, I nodded, got on my bike and told her to get on behind me. Pulling her hands around my waist tightly, I said, ‘Hope you’re up for a long ride, darlin’, because that’s the only way I know to get rid of the shit in your head.”

7

Carla

We’d been riding for probably close to an hour and a half when Havoc pulled off the road and cut the engine. We were somewhere in the Sunshine Coast hinterland, and the café he’d stopped at looked inviting. I was a little cold because I hadn’t dressed for the cooler air in the mountains, so the warmth that hit me as we entered was welcome.

“What do you want to drink?” Havoc asked.

“Coffee, white with one please. And cake. I need cake.” I was firm. Cake always made me feel better.

He chuckled. “What kind of cake, babe?”

I licked my lips thinking about it. “White chocolate mud cake if they have it. But if not, anything will do so long as there are no sultanas or fruit in it.” I pointed at him sternly. “If you bring me back fruit cake of any kind, there will be hell to pay.”

His face broke out in a huge grin and my stomach did somersaults. I’d never seen Havoc smile. Not once. In fact, until that moment, I’d never heard him laugh or even chuckle. I liked it, a lot. He turned me around and smacked me on the ass before placing his hands on my shoulders and whispering in my ear, “Go and sit this gorgeous ass down and I will bring you cake that doesn’t contain any fuckin’ fruit. Trust me, sweetheart, the last thing I want to do is incur your wrath.”

Warmth spread through me. This was a side of Havoc that I

really liked. I did what he said, and checked out the café while I waited patiently for him. It was a country-style café with lots of wood, and a potbelly fire burning in the corner. No wonder it was so warm inside. Nearly every table was occupied and people were laughing and enjoying themselves. The staff seemed chirpy too. I bet they had a brilliant boss.

Just as I was about to wallow in self-pity about the turn my life had taken this week, Havoc pulled up a seat and sat with me. I looked at him, and enjoyed the thrill that ran through me at the sight. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I said, the words spilling out of me before I could censor them. Censoring and me didn’t really go hand–in-hand so I was used to saying shit I shouldn’t, and rarely got embarrassed because of it.

He laid a sexy grin on me. “You just say what you’re thinking, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, one of my many good traits,” I said with a wink.

His grin turned into a laugh. “I’d have to agree with you there, babe. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she believes and isn’t afraid to say it.”

I leant forward and asked, “What cake did you get me?”

“Well, it sure as shit wasn’t fruitcake, but I think I’ll make you wait until they bring it out.”

“You’re playing with me now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. He then leant forward too, and added, “Playing with you is fast becoming one of my favourite activities.”

Fuck.

Talk about desire hitting all points in my body at once. This man had it going on, and I was sure I might burst into flames from the heat surrounding us.

I gathered my wits and said, “You’re a smooth talker, Havoc. I bet you have no trouble scoring wherever you go.”

He shifted back in his chair, his gaze stuck on mine. The depth in his eyes got to me. Havoc was not a shallow man—of this I was sure. He nodded slowly, contemplating what I’d said. “You’re right. I have no trouble in that department. But, babe, I don’t say yes very often.”