Page 9 of Havoc

After all, he’s never gone back home, not even for his father’s funeral. His brother is the one who stuck behind when he moved to Vegas, and until his father died, I thought he had no plans on looking back at the life he left.

“It’s complicated.” It’s all Chaos says as a way of explanation, sliding his phone into his pocket. “I’m heading to Sapphire Rise to check on shit. Nothing a few strippers can’t fix.”

I raise an eyebrow.

Chaos has two weaknesses: whiskey and women. Which is why he’s happily managed operations at the Twisted Kings-owned strip club all these years. But he also uses it as an escape when he doesn’t feel like facing his problems. Like I sense he’s doing now.

“You coming?” His dark gaze slides to Aimee. “Looks like I’m not the only one who could use a distraction.”

“I was just in LA. I’ve had enough distractions.”

Chaos chuckles. “At the bottom of the whiskey bottle, maybe. But rumor has it your bed’s been empty for a few weeks now, Havoc. Any reason for that?”

His eyes home in on Aimee again, and I refuse to meet his gaze.

“You and Soul are such fucking gossips. Stick to your own shit and leave me alone.”

Chaos hums with amusement, slapping me on the shoulder. “Already losing another one.”

He’s starting to sound like Soul, who wouldn’t let this go the entire time we were in LA. Soul spent the full trip throwing patch bunnies at me, picking out anyone remotely my type to see what I would do about it. And every time I brushed another one off, he’d bring up Aimee.

He’d ask what I’m running from.

What I’m avoiding talking about.

He’d stir shit up until I downed enough whiskey to forget my own name and pass the fuck out.

For two guys intent on never settling down, Soul and Chaos have a lot of opinions about how other membersof the club handle relationships, and I don’t like being on the receiving end of their interrogations.

“You really are a goner.” Chaos shakes his head, reading something on my face. “Fuck her or let her go, man. But do something about it.”

Damn, I wish it were that simple.

And not because I can’t stop fisting my cock without thinking about Aimee’s long legs wrapped around my shoulders, but because her being here reminds me that I can hate her all I want, but I’ll never actually be over her.

We’ve never so much as kissed, much less fucked, and yet, all it takes is one glance for her to burn my life to ashes.

Chaos turns to leave, and it’s just me and Legacy left on the porch. Thankfully, he lets the topic of Aimee die in Chaos’s absence because he’s too lost in thought while he stares at Reagan.

He watches her, and I watch Aimee. I can’t fucking help it.

The rumble of Chaos’s motorcycle starting echoes around the outside of the house, and Aimee’s head whips around at the sound. Her back stiffens, and her teeth clench. She never got the nerve to climb on the back of my bike when we were younger, but that was defiance, not fear.

This look is something else.

Wide eyes. Pale cheeks.

Aimee is rattled, and I don’t need to ask to know who is to blame: the Iron Sinners. When I get my hands on them, they’re going to pay for every little thing they did to her.Whether I’m pissed at this girl for disappearing on me or not.

Reagan hops up, rubbing her belly. “Just consider it, okay? For me.”

“I will.” Aimee stands, but her gaze darts off with her words, telling me she’s lying.

Legacy’s phone pings, and he reads the text before crossing the backyard to wrap his arms around Reagan.

“Steel needs me back at the clubhouse to help Ghost with something.” Legacy kisses Reagan on the top of the head. “Ready to go?”

Reagan’s gaze moves from Aimee to me, but she doesn’t immediately answer him. If I had to guess, she’s worried about leaving the two of us alone together.