Chapter Five
Havoc hated babysitting.Irritated, he leaned against the rail overlooking the south wall of the compound, with his arms crossed, and his jaw tight.King could’ve assigned this to anyone.Any prospect or any brother with more time than sense.Hell, Roach had been the one to flag Ivy’s work in the first place.Let him keep an eye on her.
Unfortunately, King had looked straight at Havoc and said it like it wasn’t a discussion.Keep an eye on her, King had said.
As Road Captain, Havoc had a dozen other things pulling at him.He had routes to scout and bikes to check.There was a run planned in two days that needed eyes on every mile of asphalt.The road was where his head went quiet.Where the ghosts loosened their grip.Standing still was not his strength, and yet here he was.
Ivy’s car rolled through the open gate and crunched to a stop near the wall King had marked out for her first mural.She climbed out with a canvas bag slung over one shoulder and a crate of supplies in the other hand, moving with the same unhurried confidence he’d clocked the first time she’d stood her ground in front of his bike.
Havoc straightened without meaning to.She wore paint-spattered jeans and a fitted tank, hair twisted up and already threatening to come loose.Anyone else would’ve been nervous about working in an MC compound but not Ivy.
She glanced around the compound, taking in the buildings, the bikes, the men moving about their business.Her gaze met his and their eyes caught.Something low and restless rolled through him.
She gave a small nod, as if she was acknowledging him like an equal presence in the space.It annoyed him and it also did things to his pulse he didn’t appreciate.He pushed off the rail and walked over, boots heavy on gravel.
“You’re early,” Havoc remarked by way of greeting.
She glanced at her watch.“On time.I like to get settled before I start,” Ivy explained.
“Mm,” he grunted, pointing to a nearby wall.“King wants this wall first.”
Her eyes lit, just a fraction.“Good choice.The light hits it clean in the afternoon,” Ivy said.
He hadn’t thought about the light.Hadn’t thought about much beyond making sure no one got too close.Havoc nodded anyway, stepping back as she set her crate down and started laying out supplies with quick, efficient movements.
She worked like someone who knew her tools the way he knew his bike.She lined her brushes up by size.Ivy had tucked a chalk behind her ear.She pulled her gloves off, then put them on, then off again.She paced the wall, head tilted, eyes narrowed, already seeing something he couldn’t.
Havoc stayed where he was supposed to, a few feet back, watching.
At first, the restlessness chewed at him.The urge to move.To mount up and burn rubber until the world blurred at the edges.He rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers, scanned the perimeter out of habit.
Then Ivy lifted a piece of charcoal and touched it to the wall.
The change was immediate.Her movements were loose but deliberate, lines flowing out of her like breath.She stepped back, adjusted, stepped in again.Ivy scraped the chalk against brick, soft and steady, sketching the bones of something large and alive.
Havoc found himself still.The irritation ebbed, replaced by something quieter.Something like focus.Watching her was hypnotic.The way she furrowed her brows when she concentrated.Hell, he was even captivated by the way she leaned into the wall with her hip cocked and her arm stretched high without hesitation.She wasn’t tentative.Ivy trusted herself.
He realized he’d been holding his breath when he finally exhaled.
