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Destined Havoc

Page 20

   


We ate and drank in silence for a few moments.  The cakes were so damn good, and I devoured them pretty quickly.  He smirked at that, and said, “I take it they were good.”
As I finished the last piece, I looked up at him, and answered, “They were divine.  This cafe needs to be added to my favourite places to visit list.  Thank you.”
“Now you owe me.”
I raised my eyebrows.  “I can only imagine how you plan to exact payment.”
Pinning me with his stare, he said, “As payment, I want to hear what’s causing you grief.”
I took a deep breath.  “Fine.  If you must know, I failed my semester at college, so when you add that to the fact I lost my job, it’s been a shit week.”
“The teacher you refused to sleep with, did actually fail you?”
“Yes.”
His face clouded over with anger.  “What’s his name?”
I didn’t know Havoc well, but I knew it would be a bad idea to give him my teacher’s name.  Nash would just hurt him a little if I let him loose on the guy; I hazarded a guess that Havoc would do a lot worse than that.  If the club sent him to take care of problems, I could only imagine what that entailed.
Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’m not giving you that.”
I watched as his chest rose and fell in a pissed off, jerky movement.  It appeared as if he was fighting to control his anger.  “I’ll get that name, sweetheart.  It’d just be a lot easier if you gave it to me.”
Now I was getting angry.  “No, Havoc, I don’t need you to fight my battles.  Do not pursue this.”  My voice was firm, but I doubted he was the kind of man to listen.
“That asshole needs to learn a lesson.  Manipulating women into sex is disgusting.  I hope you’ve reported him.”
There was no way he was letting this go; I knew that in my gut.  “Havoc, I’m being deadly serious when I say I don’t want you anywhere near this.  I’ll get my brother to sort him out.”
He stood abruptly.  “We need to go,” he commanded in that domineering voice of his that I hated to love.
Without waiting for me, he stalked out to his bike.  I followed him, annoyed.  When I caught up with him, I demanded to know, “What the hell’s gotten into you?  I still had coffee to drink.”
Pulling me close, he rasped, “Listening to you try to boss me around turns me way the fuck on.  And, babe, what I want to do to you will give you more fuckin’ pleasure than coffee, but if you still want coffee once I’m finished, I’ll damn well go out and buy it for you.”  He stopped for a moment and stared at me.  “Now, are we good to go?”
Damn, I liked the way he thought.  “Yes, Havoc, we’re good to go.”
Chapter Eight
Havoc
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It had been four days since Dad came home from hospital and he was finally starting to get on my nerves.  This was how our relationship had always been though, so I’d been waiting for it.  He was feeling better so there was a plus.  The doctors had given him a stent and I was hoping there wouldn’t be a repeat of this because coming home to stay for an extended time wasn’t high on my list of things to look forward to.
On the other hand, coming back to Brisbane meant seeing Carla again and that ranked highly on my list.  Sex with her was the best sex I’d ever had, and I’d miss it when I left.  Yvette had asked me last night if I would housesit for her in a month and she’d been shocked as shit when I said yes without even thinking it through.  I wasn’t kidding myself though; the only reason I’d agreed so quickly was Carla.
I was helping Dad sort out his medication when my phone rang.  Checking caller ID, I was surprised to see it was King calling.  The President of Sydney Storm.  Not a man I dealt with often, but when he called, I answered.
“King,” I said into the phone, leaving Dad to his medicine.  This wasn’t a call he needed to hear.  The kind of jobs King called on me for weren’t jobs anyone needed to know about.
“Havoc.  Got a problem and we need you to take care of it.”
“Figured, brother.  Where?”
“Sydney.  It’s that idiot you dealt with two weeks ago.”
“What?  He owes you more money?”
“No, turns out the asshole is cousins with one of our suppliers and his cousin is threatening to cut us off.  It’s Jackson Jones.  The boys tell me you know him well so I thought you might be able to help us out.”
I did know Jackson.  Psycho drug dealer.  “Fuck, King.  Jackson’s a crazy motherfucker.”
He sighed.  “You’re telling me, brother.  Can you be here in a couple of days or sooner?”
“Yeah, I’ll leave tonight, and ride straight through.  See you tomorrow.”
“Good,” he said, and hung up.
I shoved my phone in my pocket, and then pulled it straight back out to send Carla a text.
Me:  You home?
Carla:  Yeah.
Me:  See you in an hour.
Carla:  Fuck yeah.
I smiled and put my phone back away, not sure I could last an hour.  The bulge that seemed to live in my pants these days might well cause me to head over sooner.
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