Havoc didn’t seem like the sharing type, but he surprised me and opened up about his mom and five sisters that all lived on the east coast. His parents had split when he was in middle school, and he and his sisters had gone back and forth between them until his father died his sophomore year of high school.
“Five sisters,” I said. “I can’t even imagine that. Growing up with Laura was bad enough.”
“Five sisters and one bathroom.” He shook his head. “It was savage.”
One bathroom? I would have killed Laura for sure. “How did you guys get to school on time?”
“My parents didn’t take any shit. If we acted up, we got the belt. It didn’t stop us from acting up, but we got better about not getting caught.”
My parents had never beat me, preferring to brainwash me and control my life instead. I think I would have preferred to be beaten. “Did you get the belt a lot?”
He nodded. “This’ll probably surprise you, but I had a temper.”
I gasped, pretending to be shocked. “You don’t say?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s not as bad as yours, but it’s significant.”
I elbowed him in the side and he grabbed my arm then trailed his fingers down the back of my hand. The gesture was strangely intimate.
“My sisters would fuck with me until I snapped, then they’d go crying to Dad. But trust me, they gave way better than I did. Half of my scars are from those diabolical little tyrants.”
“And the other scars?” I asked.
His expression darkened, and the arm wrapped around me stiffened. “I don’t talk about those.”
Havoc was a soldier. Although I’d spent the past year battling my inner bitch while keeping my family and ex at bay, I knew it was nothing compared to the kind of combat Havoc had no doubt seen. How many scars had his time in the service given him? How many of those scars were tangible? I wanted to ask, but could tell the topic was off limits and didn’t want him to clam up, so I veered around it.
“What made you enlist in the army?” I asked instead.
“Nine-eleven. The day I watched those planes fly into the twin towers, I knew I would serve. Then I forgot about it and focused on getting through high school. After graduation, I didn’t have many options. Colleges don’t exactly seek out broke inner-city kids, and I didn’t know the first thing about applying for scholarships. Nobody in my family did. Besides, I’d been hangin’ with a pretty rough crowd and was doing some stupid shit to help my mom keep food on the table. Spent a couple nights in juvie my senior year. My grades were good, but with a record… I knew if I didn’t do something to get the fuck out of there, I’d end up in prison.”
There it was again. No games, no lies, no bullshit. Havoc was comfortable enough in his own skin that he could be honest about his life. His mouth was not a bakery, and he laid out the facts raw without any sugar to sweeten them up. He wasn’t trying to impress me. He was letting me see the real him, scars, blemishes, criminal record, and all.
“You said your family is on the east coast. How’d you end up in Seattle?” I asked.
“Link.” He grinned, and an incredible amount of pride shone through his eyes. “That’s my man right there. He’s the president of our motorcycle club and he was my Special Forces commander. No better motherfucker on the planet. He wouldn’t shut up about this club his father had put together—a club for vets who helped other vets—and didn’t give me much choice in the matter.” Havoc chuckled. “He’s one bossy son-of-a-bitch, but I guess that’s what makes him a good president. His logic is solid, and his goals are good, so you find yourself doing whatever you can to help him succeed. He’s the first person I ever met who believes in me. Really believes in me.”
“Sounds like a great guy.”
Havoc squeezed my shoulders again. “The best. But I’ve been wagging my jaw enough. Tell me more about you. Your mom said you had a degree. In what?”
Learning about Havoc was nice, and I wasn’t ready for the conversation to come back around to my disaster of a life. But he’d shared a great deal of personal information, so I relented, willing to do the same. “Psychology. I knew I was screwed up and thought maybe I could fix myself. Instead, it made me better at screwing with other people. Taught me to look for their weaknesses and insecurities so I could better exploit them. Taught me to pay attention to what peopledon’tsay so I know what areas of their lives to poke.”
“Now you have a way to help people, though,” he pointed out.
I stared at him, trying to follow his thinking. “It’s weird how your mind automatically goes there,” I said. “You’re legitimately a good human and it’s so bizarre. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Don’t put me on a pedestal, Jules. I already told you, I’m no saint.” He frowned and looked away, out the window toward the city. “You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve done. Trust me, I’ve got my own demons.”
That might be true, but he was still the best person I’d ever met. And… Jules? What was that about? Nobody had ever given me a nickname before. Well, other than bitch. And in high school, some peon had called me a cunt and then retracted it, insisting I lacked the necessary warmth and depth. That was probably my favorite insult that they used on me. Insults I could handle. Pet names… those were too personal, too casual, too… warm and fuzzy for my comfort. But for some reason, Havoc calling me ‘Jules’ and ‘Babe’ made me want to arch my back, purring as I rubbed against him.
It made me want to be a better person. Someone he could respect and want to be around.
“Regardless, let’s not put me in charge of anyone’s mind,” I said. “At least not until we’re ready to build an army and take over the world.”
He chuckled. “Noted.”
With his arm still around me, we sat in companionable silence for the rest of the trip. By the time we docked and made our way to Havoc’s truck, my buzz had pretty much worn off and I was back to wondering why Wesley had set me up and whether or not he was keeping tabs on me. Even after all this time, he could still weasel his way into my brain and screw with my head, making me feel stupid and vulnerable. I didn’t relish the idea of going back to my lonely apartment to let his words eat away at me until I popped enough sleeping pills to find oblivion.
