Chapter Seven
Morning came sharpand restless.Havoc rolled into the compound just after sunrise, the sky still streaked with pale gold and bruised blue.Engines were quiet for once.The place felt half-asleep, like a predator stretched out in the early light, one eye cracked open.
He cut the bike and sat there for a second longer than necessary, resting his hands on the grips, listening to the ticking of cooling metal.
She should have been here already.Ivy always was.She liked the quiet hours.He’d noticed that fast.How she showed up early, before the compound filled with noise and movement, before the walls became witnesses instead of blank space.It was like she needed that stillness to listen before she painted.
Havoc swung off the bike and grabbed the cardboard drink tray and paper bag from his saddlebag.Coffee.Black, one sugar.Breakfast sandwich he’d remembered she liked, even though she’d only mentioned it once, off hand, days ago.
He told himself it didn’t mean anything.That didn’t stop the faint, uncomfortable twist in his chest when he rounded the corner of the building and saw the mural wall empty.
No Ivy.There was no drop cloth spread out.No paint jars lined up like soldiers.No soft scrape of brush against brick, only the wall, half-finished, waiting.Havoc frowned and checked his watch.Then his phone.A text waited.
Morning.Running a little late today.Need to grab more supplies.Be there soon.
Relief came first, sharp and fast.Then anger followed it like a shadow.He stared at the screen longer than necessary, tightening his jaw.She was in town alone, for supplies.
His mind replayed yesterday without permission.The art store aisle.The way Hyena’s eyes had lingered on her.The grin that had carried too much familiarity.Too much interest.
Hyena was the Vice President of the Steel Jackals MC.An upstart crew with big mouths and itchy fingers, sniffing around Devil’s Crown territory like they were testing the fence.Havoc knew him well enough to know yesterday hadn’t been coincidence.
Hyena didn’t browse art stores.Havoc crushed the coffee cup in his hand.The liquid splashed against his knuckles, hot and bitter.He didn’t feel it.He dumped the ruined breakfast straight into the trash, barely registering the waste, then turned back toward his bike with purpose burning through him.
This was exactly why King had told him to keep an eye on her.He didn’t bother asking permission.The Harley roared to life, shattering the morning calm.Havoc took the road hard, speed bleeding off some of the tension but not enough.Wind tore at him, engines howled in his ears, and his thoughts stayed fixed on one image.
Ivy.Alone.In town.He rolled into the parking lot just as the art store door swung open.
There she was, her arms full of supplies.Canvas boards tucked under one arm, paint bags slung over her shoulder.Hair pulled back, face flushed with effort.
Relief hit him so hard it made him dizzy, then anger slammed into it and wiped the softness clean.
He dismounted in one smooth motion, boots hitting pavement with a sharp crack.Ivy looked up, startled, eyes widening when she saw him striding toward her.
“Havoc?”she said.“What are you doing here?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”he shot back, voice rough, edged sharp.
