“Word around Mayhem is that you came back with a stray.”
I cock a brow and drape my arms over the handlebar. “Jamie Ellis isn’t a stray. She’s Mayhem born. I brought her home.”
“Oh shit. Thought the name sounded familiar.” Havoc was also there the day she got arrested. We all went to school together. Him, Jester, Malice, and me. He takes a long pull of his beer. “Small fucking world.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Jester takes a drink.
Havoc sizes me up. “What the fuck happened, Wraith?”
Not only is Havoc a high-ranking enforcer, which makes him privy to sensitive intel, he’s also a friend. One I trust, and once I start talking, I tell him everything, with him and Jester filling me in on everything I missed while I was gone. How the Unholy blamed the Berserkers for my disappearance and werethiscloseto an all-out war with the rival gang. Basically, one second I’d won my fight in Pittsburgh, and the next, it was like the ground opened and swallowed me whole.
But shit’s getting too dramatic out here. I came here to forget Gomorrah.
I grab my helmet and pull it down over my head. “I’m heading in. Coming?”
I don’t wait for an answer. They know where to find me.
After a quick ride across the yard, I park my bike in the garage. I pit-stop at my Ford Raptor, where I drop my helmet and gloves and change from my gear to jeans and a hoodie right in the yard.
Sanctum’s quiet, with only a few Unholy in the main room. Crow’s still shuttered in his office, but Rotten, the vice president, and Voodoo, the sergeant at arms, are here. Missed these old miserable bastards.
Along with the handful of Unholy are hang-arounds. Women who, literally, hang around Sanctum and make themselves available to any Unholy in need of a warm body to stick his dick. Shit, I’ve gotten to know a few myself over the years, but now that I’m back, there’s no need to make use of them. Not when the one woman I want is finally here where she belongs.
The devil on my shoulder is telling me that Jamie and I do not have a commitment. She left me once, and there’s no guarantee she won’t leave again. I’ve got no reason not to grab one of the hang-arounds and go animal on her because I’ve earned the right to feel good after months of pain.
But the angel on the other shoulder is screaming at me not to be a douchebag and to do the decent thing and not ruin what I’ve got waiting for me at home. Especially when Rissa comes sauntering over, her curvy body encased in tight black jeans and red crop top. The ballsy bitch presses her cherry-Chapstick lips to mine like she has a right to kiss me. Her perfume reminds me of the women who raped me in the Coliseum, and I choke back a gag.
“Oh my God, Wraith, I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine,” I grit out between clenched teeth and shove her away.
Bull. Shit.
I’m anything but fine, and if I don’t put distance between her perfume and my nose, I’m going to punch a goddamn hole in something—and hopefully, it won’t be a person’s face.
“No one told me anything.” She looks me over and sees the scars.Shit, here we go.“What happened to you? Where were you? My God, your face. What’s around your mouth?”
Needle holes are what’s around my mouth.
I need liquor. A lot of fucking liquor.
Rissa reaches for me, but I slap her away. “Don’t touch me.”
Before my time in Gomorrah, Rissa hadn’t been in Mayhem long enough to have earned the Unholy’s trust. She’s fun to party with, and I heard she’s a great lay, but it begins and ends there. Unless things changed while I was gone.
“That’snotnothing,” she insists.
Jester comes up beside me. “Good idea if you leave it alone, Ris.”
Rissa turns to Jester. “I’m concerned. I mean, we were almost a thing, right, Wraith?”
“Wrong.” I dodged a bullet with her. I found out she was with a Berserker an hour before trying to hook up with me. “I’m here to drink, Rissa. So, you go do you, and I’m gonna go do me.” Her expression drops, and it looks like she’s going to protest, but I lean in close and give her a lethal glare. “This is me telling you to keep your pussy on the other side of the room. Understood?”
She catches her bottom lip between her teeth before answering. “Sure, Wraith, I missed you, that’s all.”
“We all missed him, sweetheart,” Jester says. “Now, run along and go play with someone else.”
Nothing more unappealing than a grown-ass woman who pouts. But here she is, pouting like a fucking two-year-old. Because after everything I’ve been through, I need drama. But she scurries away, and I walk to the bar where Jester and I join Rotten and Voodoo. Eventually, Havoc comes in, and with him is Discord. Word spreads fast, and within half an hour, Sanctum is packed with Unholy. Even Crow ventures out of his office. The mini welcome home party is exactly what I need to numb my brain.
