Page 39 of His Retribution
Oh, I have so many questions for my mate, so many things I want to ask her about her skills, her home, her life. But as we sit side by side in the grass to enjoy the meal of blackened chicken, red potatoes and asparagus, all I can do is thank whatever entity that brought her back into my life.
A life that I intend to share with her until this world stops spinning completely.
Don’t Come Back
Two weeks later.
Iam so stupid.
So fucking stupid.
Goddammit, I am such an idiot.
I pace the break room at Wild Bill's, chew the hell out of my thumb, and clutch my watch gears like a damn life raft.
How could I be so stupid?
I broke my only rule. My most important rule ever, the one that I would never in a million years even bend just a little.
I made a friend.
"Fuck!" I throw my hands up in the air, fist my hair, then resume pacing.
Havok has been coming to my house every night since the first time I saw him.
He's helped me fix my truck, worked on the few parts I could afford to replace so far, and that's great but it's more than that. Havok has become my friend and now, shit, now I've caught fucking feelings for him.
But has it stopped me from spending time with him?
Nope.
As a matter of fact, now I just want to spend all my time with him.
Every night, about a half hour after I get home from work, he shows up. That big, sexy body of his comes strolling through the tree line, plays with my dog, then sits and eats with me. Because yes, I have continued to make him dinner every night he's there and it makes me go all mushy inside when I watch how happy he is while he eats the small meals I make.
And it totally doesn't help that Havok is funny, so funny and charming, so fucking smart. He's attentive to me, listens to every word I say like I'm a prophet reciting truth. He's shared some personal stuff about himself, told me he's been friends with the Dragovihk's since forever, and moved out here from France to be with them. Havok told me all about his world travels and his time in the military. Shared that his family is still in his homeland, that he doesn't have any siblings and his relationship with his parents is very strained.
The more I learn about Havok, the more I find myself dying to know more, to know everything. I’ve started counting down the seconds until I can leave work, practically running home just to see him sooner, and that morphed into a need for his company—for him—that I can't even describe.
And Jesus lord have mercy he is so hot.
So fucking hot.
I knew he was attractive even through his wild hair and beard, but when he showed up clean shaven, two adorable dimples on full display, with a haircut that makes me want my fingers in those ebony strands all day and night, oh my gosh I thought my ovaries were going to explode.
But then my head did.
It was subtle and not really painful, but my vision blacked out and I saw all these different pictures—almost like movie scenes—play out in a matter of seconds, Havok starring in each and every one.
It happens every time I see him but I can never hang onto the images like I can the nightmares. Nothing is crystal clear, they zip by so fast, but one thing I'm sure of is the fact that Havok is a part of them. And I don't know what to make of that.
Or the fact that my nightmares have subsided immensely since I've started spending time with him, which also means I've been able to get a few hours of actual sleep here and there.
Did I mention how hot he is?
Because oh man, Havok is smoking hot.
The hottest.
Table of Contents
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