Havoc (Storm MC 7)

Yvette shook her head. “Jesus, Dad, is there no end to your dirty mouth?”

Carla laughed at Yvette and Dad as they had words. When she caught my gaze she pointed at me and then at herself while mouthing, “You, me, tonight.”

I nodded and closed the distance between us. “You’re on, darlin’, but be prepared because you’re going down.”

She smirked. “I think you’ve got that around the wrong way, romeo. It’ll be you going down.”

“Fuck, I love the way your mind works,” I said before brushing a kiss across her lips.

As I ended the kiss, she turned her head towards the television that was on behind us. “Modern Family!” she exclaimed.

“God fuckin’ help us,” I muttered under my breath. She loved that show and that woman on there—the one with the screeching voice I’d pay good money to shut up.

She whipped back around to glare at me.

Dad aimed the television remote at the TV and raised the volume. “There you go, sweetheart. Just tell Havoc to pop a painkiller and man the hell up.”

“Jesus fuck, do you hear every-fuckin’-thing?” I asked with a scowl at the old man.

Carla burst out laughing. “Thank you, Al.” She po

inted at me and added, “There’s asprin in the cupboard.”

Yvette chimed in. “I’ve clearly missed something here, but I love this show, so everyone shush.”

I shook my head as they all shifted their attention to the television. But as much as I appeared to be bothered by it all, that was as far from the truth as it could be.

My family getting on with my woman was one of the best things in the world to watch.

* * *

“I’m taking the lead.”

I scowled at Nash. “No, I am.”

He returned my scowl. “She’s my sister. I should be the one who gets to fuck this asshole up.”

“She’s my woman. I fuck anyone up who fucks with her.”

He blew out a long breath. “For fuck’s sake. You take the lead, but I’m getting a punch in.”

I didn’t wait for him to possibly change his mind. Stalking down the front path of Carla’s ex-teacher’s house, I clenched my fists. I’d been waiting a long time for this.

A couple of minutes after I knocked on his front door, the asshole yanked it open and barked out, “What?”

I placed my boot inside his house and pushed his door open as I stepped inside.

“What the fuck, man?” he yelled, but I shut him up with a fist to his stomach. When he doubled over in pain, yelling obscenities, Nash and I pushed our way in and slammed the door shut.

“We’ve heard that you like to bully female students into sleeping with you in exchange for passing them in a subject,” I said.

Fear blared from his eyes. “They sleep with me willingly, dude. I don’t rape them.”

My anger erupted and I fought to keep it in check. Gripping his shirt, I thundered, “That’s not what I’ve been told, asshole.”

Nash took hold of his hair and yanked his head back. “You wanna know what we do to people who do shit we don’t like?”

Sweat pooled on the guy’s forehead and he gulped for breath. “I won’t do it again. I swear!”