“Fuck you, Havoc.”
Am I intimidated? Hell yes.
Will I back down? Never.
Show Havoc a smidgen of weakness, and you lose his respect. But, my God, two hundred-twenty-something pounds barreling at me in the form of an angry Unholy is terrifying.
Luke shoves Havoc aside. “Thing is, Faith, Mayhem’s got itself a problem. An infestation, you might call it, of snot-nosed dudebros from Brighton selling onyx in our fine establishments. Crow is hoping that since you spent the last seven years there, you might know a person, who knows a person, who knows a person who dabbles in that shit.”
I nail Havoc with a glare. “What about you, Havoc? Is that what you meant?”
“It was a fucking question,” he growls.
“No, it was a nasty accusation,” I counter.
Havoc has the good grace to look contrite… for a whopping three whole seconds. “Do you want all the blood from my veins, or can I keep a few drops?”
“Asshole,” I grumble. “I forgive you, grudgingly. And you can tell Crow, no. I don’t do drugs. Neither do my friends. But this jerkoff is right.” I jab a thumb at Luke. “I have friends who know people who use. I’m not sure if it’s onyx, though, because that’s way out of their league. If he wants, I can make discreet inquires and see what I can find out.”
Havoc gives me a single nod. “Whatever you can do to help will be appreciated by Crow, personally.”
“I live here too,” I say with a shrug. “Anything for the cause.”
Luke holds his arms out to me as if I’m going to accept the invitation and run into his embrace. “I have a cause you can help me with.”
I point to his hands. “That’s why you have two of those.”
“Brutal.”
“No,” I correct. “Brutal would be me wishing you get a flaming STD that causes spontaneous anal leakage.”
“You’re plenty fascinated with my posterior, Faith.”
“Only kicking you in it to get you to leave,” I retort sweetly.
Havoc demands my phone, which I hand over and watch as he adds himself to my contacts. “Ask around and find out what you can. Nothing over the phone, Faith.” As if I need reminding of how their world works. He hands me back my phone. “This is a favor, not a demand.”
“Understood.”
Havoc motions to Jester. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll be right out,” Luke answers Havoc, but his gaze stays on me.
“Now, Jester.”
I hold up my hand. “No, it’s fine. I’m curious to hear what he has to say.”
I swear to God, it better be an apology.
Havoc looks like someone shoved shards of glass in his mouth. “Fine,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “But hurry the fuck up.”
“Bye to you, too.” I give him a wave as he slams his way out of the house. “I see he’s still in a perpetually good mood.”
“Nothing’s changed,” Luke confirms.
I plant my hands on my hips and glare at him. “What do you want?”
Because whatIwant is to thread my fingers through his messy hair. To kiss those full lips and see if they’re still as soft as they were when we were teenagers. Run my hands over his body and commit every hill and valley of his muscles to memory. To satisfy my stubborn lust for this sonofabitch because he closes the distance between us. Towers over me. Close enough to reach out and touch him as if he’s still mine for the taking…
