Page 11

Havoc

I had just stepped out of the shower and was about to catch some shut-eye when my phone buzzed. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth when I saw who the text was from—Riley. The same woman I’d just spent the entire night with. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

But her text wasn’t playful. It was short. Tight. Urgent.

I need you. Now. It’s about Detective Slater.

Just seeing that bastard’s name made my blood boil.

I didn’t waste a second. I got dressed, grabbed my keys, and threw myself onto my bike. I rode like hell through town, pushing the engine hard and eating pavement like it was nothing. When I finally skidded to a stop outside her apartment building, the place was silent. Too silent. Like something awful had just gone down and the walls were still echoing with it.

I took the stairs two at a time, anxiety coiling tighter in my gut with every step.

Her door was locked, but someone else answered—a petite Asian woman who looked like she’d just stared death in the face. The second she recognized me, she opened the door wide, pulled me inside, and slammed it shut behind me. I heard the locks click back into place. She double-checked the deadbolt and tried the knob twice, like she couldn’t convince herself it was real.

Then she backed away, still visibly shaken.

I turned and found Riley on the couch. She looked like hell—pale, shaky, like she was seconds away from crumbling to pieces. There was no blood, which allowed me to leash my rage long enough to crouch beside her.

She didn’t react when I approached. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, like she was trying to fold into herself. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes looked glassy and vacant.

Seeing her like that nearly broke something inside me.

I reached out and gently touched her upper arm. “Riley,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. Can you talk about it, or do you need some time?”

Her eyes lifted to mine, voice barely a whisper. “He was waiting for me in the parking lot.” Her lip quivered as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “He knew I spent the night with you.”

My fury surged like a wave.

“You’re talking about Slater?” I asked, my voice low and lethal.

She nodded, not looking at me. “He smelled like alcohol. I think he was out there all night.”

I scooped her into my arms and pulled her onto my lap, holding her close. “It’s gonna be okay,” I murmured against her temple. “He’s never gonna get close to you again.”

Her friend slipped by and set a cup of coffee on the end table beside us. There were several others already scattered around, all half-drunk or forgotten. Looked like she’d tried to keep her hands busy however she could.

I pulled out my phone and texted Storm.

Me: Riley Dalton was just attacked by that dirty cop we talked about. Storm: Is she alright? Do you need to take her to the hospital? Me: IDK. Still assessing. She’s shaken. Might be in shock. Storm: Bring her to the clubhouse or get her checked out. Zoe and Ali can meet you there. She’s their friend. They’ll want to help. Me: She’s in no condition to ride. I’ll take her car. Storm: Text me the address. I’ll send a prospect to grab your bike.

I copied Riley’s address from her earlier message and sent it along.

Turning back to her, I said, “I don’t know the full story yet, but dirty cops like him do whatever the hell they want. You’re not safe here. He could come back.”

Her friend spoke up from the corner. “He said he would. He threatened to come back and kill us.”

“That’s it,” I said. “You’re both coming with me. You’ll be safe at the clubhouse.”

Neither of them objected.

I looked at her friend. “Can you throw some clothes in a bag for both of you?”

She nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

I kept Riley close, rubbing her back in slow, steady circles. “You’re safe now. He’s not getting near you again. I promise.”

Once she was calm enough, I asked, “Do you need to stop by the ER? Just for a check-up?”

She shook her head. “I don’t need that. I want to stay with you.”

I hesitated. “Did he hurt you?”

She lowered her arms, and that’s when I saw the rip down the front of her shirt. Her voice was quiet. “He didn’t hurt me, but he wanted to.”

My jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “That bastard is a dead man.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” she said gently. “Not good decision making.”

Before I could reply, her friend came back into the room with two giant suitcases. Clothes stuck out of every corner like she’d just shoved everything in without thinking twice.

She fished out a clean t-shirt and handed it to Riley, along with a gallon-sized ziplock bag. Riley stood, peeled off her torn shirt, stuffed it into the bag, and zipped it shut. Her friend tucked the evidence into the suitcase. Riley pulled the new shirt over her head and reached for one of the bags.

“Whoa, now,” I said. “There ain’t gonna be no women carrying luggage while I’m standing here.”

Riley gave me a faint smile, but her friend wasn’t as quick to let go. There was a weird little tug-of-war over the suitcase, but I eventually won.

I loaded up Riley’s car, stuffing the bags into the trunk. It was tight, but they fit. Then I helped both women into the vehicle, started the engine, and got us the hell out of there.

The drive was quiet. I put on some calming music—mostly for myself, to keep my rage in check. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

Near the edge of town, I heard them whispering in the back. Riley’s friend mentioned having part of the attack captured on video. I filed that information away.

Because if Slater thought this was over, he was dead wrong.

By the time we arrived at the clubhouse, Zoe was already there, and Ali was on her way. We took Riley and her friend, Dae, upstairs and got them settled into one of the upstairs suites. Our club doc—a kind, no-nonsense woman married to one of the brothers—came in shortly after to check them over. The whole ordeal had taken a toll, but it was clear the two women were the ones carrying the heaviest weight.

Once Riley and Dae were comfortable and the doc was satisfied they didn’t need to go to the ER, Storm, Zoe, and I gathered in one of the private lounges upstairs to have a serious conversation. Riley sat close to me on the couch, pale but steady. The shock was wearing off, and she was finally ready to talk.

I kicked things off. “Start at the beginning and tell us what happened.”

Riley nodded, swallowing hard before she began. “Like I said before—he was waiting for me when I pulled in. I think he spent the night drinking in his car. At first, he played it off like he was concerned about me. But then it escalated. Fast.”

Zoe leaned forward, her expression troubled. “That sounds terrifying. Were there any witnesses? Anyone who tried to help?”

Riley shook her head. “Not at first.”

Storm folded his arms across his chest. “What kinds of things did he say once he dropped the act? Anything stand out that might help us get a read on his mindset?”

Her voice trembled, but she powered through. “He knew I spent the night with Havoc. That set him off. He called me a whore, said if I was giving it to a biker, I could give it to him too. I kept saying no, and he hit me. Backhanded me across the face.”

I clenched my fists, rage flaring in my chest.

“I tried to run, but he caught me,” Riley continued. “He ripped my shirt and started dragging me towards his patrol car. That’s when Dae saw what was happening and screamed from the balcony. A couple of my neighbors came out with baseball bats. I think they scared him off.”

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, my hands still trembling. I reached for her, and she leaned into me, resting her head against my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and held her close.

She looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed but clear. “I tried to act like my bold, sassy self... but I was terrified.”

“Anyone would be. You’re lucky it didn’t go further.”

“He was acting like I’d cheated on him, like we were in a relationship. But in real life, I barely knew him. I never said yes to anything.”

Storm’s jaw ticked. “He sounds like a full-on psychopath.”

Riley nodded slowly. “I thought for a second he was going to kill me. Just for being with Havoc.”

I didn’t even try to hide my fury. “I’ll take care of that sick bastard. One way or another, he’s not going to touch another woman.”

“He’s a cop who thinks he’s untouchable,” Riley said quietly. “He’s threatened to arrest me before. He said that would give him time alone with me. No cameras. No witnesses.”

“Anyone can be brought down,” I said. “Even cops. We’ll make sure of it.”

She hesitated. “When we were at that nightclub, he called for backup and got it fast. I think the whole department’s in on something shady. Reporting him could make it worse. They’ll close ranks to protect their own.”

“We’re not afraid of dirty cops,” I told her. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Storm, quiet up until now, finally spoke. “Havoc’s right. We’ll find the pressure point and drive it home. He’s not going to get away with this.”

Zoe, ever the truth-teller and watchdog for the corrupt, crossed her arms and added, “You need to have Hacker dig into him. Deep. We can’t rely on surface-level info anymore.”

Storm nodded. “We looked into him when he arrested Havoc and our prospects. He came up clean, but…”

Zoe finished his sentence. “But now we know he’s not. The fact that he felt comfortable assaulting Riley in public means he’s confident—maybe even protected.”

Storm turned to Dae, who had been sitting quietly beside Zoe. “What’s her deal? Did he go after her too?”

I answered, “She caught part of the attack on video, she told him she was live-streaming it. He threatened to kill them both if it ever got out. I brought her with us because I didn’t want to leave her unprotected.”

Riley was quick to add, “And she’s my best friend.”

Storm nodded. “That makes her a friend of the club.” He turned to Dae. “Welcome to the Dark Slayers’ clubhouse. You have our protection, if you want it. No one here will harm you. If anyone’s out of line, come to me or Zoe.”

Dae gave a small nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it, and yes—I accept your protection.” Her voice shook, but she said it with conviction. “I don’t know how much of the video is useful. I was too far away to catch the sound, and I couldn’t get the camera to zoom properly.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “You have video footage of the attack?”

Dae nodded and handed over her phone. “I don’t know how good it is. I got his face at the start, but then the camera went out of focus.”

Riley added in a whisper, “We watched it once. I nearly threw up. His face… it’s burned into my mind.”

Zoe’s mouth set into a hard line. “You won’t have to watch it again. I’ll send it to Storm and Hacker. We’ll handle it from here.”

“Thanks,” Riley murmured.

Storm turned to her one last time. “Anything else you want to add?”

Riley took a deep breath and went over everything—how Slater randomly appeared in her life, the slow, unsettling buildup, and how it all culminated into what happened this morning. Her voice shook, but she got through it. And the more I listened, the more convinced I became that Slater wasn’t just unstable—he was dangerous on a whole other level.

When Storm and Zoe left, Dae retreated into the bedroom, leaving Riley and me alone in the suite’s sitting area.

I turned to her. “Are you okay? Do you need space? Or rest?”

She shook her head. “Maybe. But I’m not about to climb into bed with my best friend—and no offense, but this sofa is not it.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “We could crash in my room. Just sleep. No pressure.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for babysitting a wreck of a woman?”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

She nodded once. “Alright. But if you snore, I’m kicking you.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough.”

We stood together, the atmosphere between us was the stress of what just happened, but still humming the strong undercurrents of mutual attraction. For now, that was enough.

If I were a true gentleman, I’d have offered her my bed or gone searching for an empty room she could claim for a few hours. I should have done that. But the truth was, I didn’t want to be separated from her right now. What happened earlier had kicked every protective instinct I had into overdrive. I wanted—no, I needed—to stay close. I needed to hover, to monitor, to make sure she didn’t spiral. I needed to be there in case she needed anything at all.

“We could build a pillow fort,” I offered gently, my voice quiet in the stillness between us, “and I promise to stay on my side of the bed, until you’re feeling frisky again.”

She glanced towards the closed bedroom door where her friend had disappeared minutes earlier. After a long pause, she finally nodded. “I guess that would be okay. If all you want is sleep. I’m not up for more than that right now.”

I gave her a soft, honest look. “I’m Havoc, not Slater. You can be guaranteed I won’t try anything while you’re vulnerable. I won’t even think about it—unless you decide otherwise and send a clear message that you want me to.”

Her lips twisted faintly, somewhere between amusement and exhaustion. “Yeah, okay. Not sure how you can control the thoughts that pop into your head. I can’t even manage that myself.”

“I can at least promise to control my behavior. You can trust me, Riley,”

I stood and held out a hand, giving her the choice. She had to want this—to trust me—on her own terms. As much as I wanted to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world, I wouldn’t push. Not now. Not ever.

After a long, thoughtful pause, she slid her hand into mine. I tugged her up from the sofa with gentle ease.

“I do trust you,” she murmured, her voice soft but certain. “Zoe told me you were a good man. And now I can see it for myself.”

I smiled and linked her arm through mine. “I’m easy on the eyes, got a good sense of humor, and I make a mean breakfast, too.”

“I already know all that,” she replied, her voice tired but sincere.

I could tell the dopamine surge from earlier was crashing. That post-trauma drop-off could be brutal, emotionally unpredictable. She didn’t need to go through it alone. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to let her.