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Page 20 of Unmasking Mayhem (Behind the Mask Duet #2)

nine

confidence

Raze (“Havoc”)

Walk Thru: Rich Homie Quan

M y stomach churns with anxiety as I watch the heated confrontation between Hawk and Whitney unfold. The absence of his mask tells me something has gone horribly wrong—most likely, Whitney has discovered the truth about us. And that’s a fucking nightmare waiting to happen.

Back in California, when Whitney started dating Dustin, Hawk and I were already members of the Cali Bloods, a merciless gang notorious for drug trafficking, murder, and every conceivable crime you can think of.

But the worst part? Dustin was the ruthless kingpin, and he didn’t take kindly to us being friends with Whitney—his girl.

We attempted to keep our friendship a secret, but his underboss and some of the gang’s soldiers tracked us, reporting our secretive meetings back to him.

He even had Whitney’s phone tapped, monitoring every call and text.

Dustin was fucking furious when he discovered our secret.

I can still remember all the times we rushed to her side when he’d unleash his fury on her for no reason at all.

We begged her to leave him, but she seemed trapped in his suffocating grip.

Dustin was aware of our bond; it didn’t matter that we were foster kids who shared a connection no one could break—or so we believed.

Things spiraled out of control when he threatened us, and more importantly, her.

He warned that if we didn’t cut all ties, he’d kill her and force us to watch, or worse, he’d kill us and make her witness it, and I couldn't let her see something so gruesome. Dustin always reveled in sadism, and his reputation for cruelty preceded him. The ultimatum came down to being paid off to stay away. He offered us a substantial amount of money to leave town and sever all contact with her. We accepted, hoping he would protect her as he vowed, promising he’d cherish her as we had and never harm her.

But those were all fucking lies.

We thought we were doing what was best for her by stepping aside, allowing her and Dustin to be together without our interference. We took the money and moved to the East Coast, still clinging to the hope that he would keep his word, that everything he’d told us was genuine.

If we had known then what we know now, we never would have accepted his bribe and abandoned her.

Regret gnaws at me—there’s no way to undo our choices, no way to take back what we wish we could.

The thought of it sends a shiver down my spine and tightens my chest. We left her in the clutches of a fucking monster who has ruined her life in countless ways.

We’ve been watching her closely since she arrived in Boston, acutely aware that revealing ourselves would put us in Dustin’s crosshairs yet again, even with him in prison.

None of us are safe, particularly Whitney.

All we wanted was to shield her from Dustin’s abuse.

But I didn't want her to know about Hawk and my history with him, a wish that's now backfired. Now, she’ll be looking for answers I’m not ready to provide.

I lean back against the brick wall outside her apartment, propping my foot against it as I light a preroll spiked with a touch of fentanyl, desperate to numb the pain coursing through me.

The scars where Lux pulled the bullets from my body serve as a haunting reminder of how close I came to death just weeks ago.

Yet if enduring that suffering would save and protect Whitney, I’d willingly face it a hundred times over.

I switch between a blunt and a cigarette, wanting to get high as fuck before I go see her, debating whether or not I should wear my mask.

But then I think of all the times I've fucked her while wearing it, and it gets my dick hard.

So I grab it and pull it over my face before slipping in through the balcony door; she never fucking locks it.

I turn the light on; a bright neon blue glow bounces off the glass door as I'm being swallowed by nothing but darkness.

I pull it open, knowing where it sticks so it makes a noise unless you open it a certain way.

I adjust the door quietly, hearing her and Hawk talking in her bedroom as I get passed the door, making sure to lock it behind me so that nobody else can sneak in.

I have to rub my dick a few times, trying to make it go down.

It's fucking hard just thinking about fucking her, and I know it's gonna be that angry sex—the kind where you both lose control and take it out on each other.

The kind where she bites my lip while raking her nails down my fucking back, so I squeeze her throat and sink my teeth into her neck, biting her until my teeth marks are embedded in her skin and leave a bruise.

Where I pull her hair and smack her ass while she's bouncing on my dick.

She'll hit me, and I'll slap her. She'll bite me, and I'll choke her.

It's the kind of sex that's a brutal reminder the next day when our bodies are covered in bite marks and bruises, and regret will settle in, just for a second.

It's the kind of sex that puts off having any important conversation, much like the one I know we're going to have.

So I'm going to fuck her and hold nothing back.

I'm gonna wear my mask but show her exactly what Raze can do, since she's only known what Havoc's given her—it's time she knew who Raze really is and how he really is.

There's gonna be no more Havoc once she finds out it's been me all along.

Quietly I walk down the hall, my boots leaving muddy prints behind because of the rain, but I don't give a shit.

When I come to her door, it's cracked, so I stand outside it, watching her, mesmerized by the sound of her voice and the way her eyes glimmer under the lights coming in through her window.

Fuck, I want her, and I want her all for myself.

Hawk can fucking watch me fuck her; I know he'd like that shit. I push the door open slowly, a soft creak cutting through the haze of their conversation. Hawk’s back is to me, but I can see Whitney’s expression shift from a frown to surprise as she catches sight of me.

Her eyes widen, a mix of apprehension and something deeper that I can’t quite place.

“What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice a tender lilt that sends heat pooling in my gut.

“Thought I might drop in,” I reply coolly, letting the mask obscure my expression.

My voice is gruff; it always is when I’m trying to hide how much her presence affects me. There’s a stillness in the room as she takes me in—my stature, the mask, the weight of the air charged with unsaid things.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be resting?” Hawk interjects, turning slightly.

"I'm fine, Hawk," I say, making sure to use his name so that Whitney realizes what's about to happen.

His eyes flit over to Whitney, reading the unspoken words between us as if he knows what’s simmering just beneath the surface.

Because it's already happened between her and him, so he knows my time is next.

I shrug, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind me with a soft thud.

The darkness swallows me whole, accentuating the glint of my masked eyes as they fixate on Whitney again.

“Missed you.”

Her cheeks flush a rosy pink, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight. She used to be mine before we got tangled in this chaotic web of pain and betrayal. I’m more than ready to remind her of that.

“Can we talk?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“No.” It comes out harsher than I intended. Hawk shoots me a questioning look, but I cut him off before he can say anything. “I don’t want to talk right now. I want something else.”

I take a step closer, her gaze dropping to the ground and then back to me, unsure yet undeniably drawn in. I can feel the heat radiating off her body as if it's beckoning me further in.

“But—” she starts, and I can see the conflicted emotions playing across her features.

Hurt, confusion, desire. I crave all of it and want to drown her in a sea of what we once had before life tore us apart.

“Let’s skip the fucking bullshit.” I reach for her, curling my fingers around her wrist and pulling her toward me, close enough to feel her heartbeat pulsating beneath my palm.

“We’ve put off this conversation long enough.

We both know it needed to happen, but waiting for the right moment is pointless.

You’re still being stalked by Dustin, and I need you to understand how dangerous that is. If he finds out we're back together..."

“Havoc—” she begins, but I lift my other hand to silence her, my finger pressing against her lips.

“Just listen. You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” And there's a ferocity in my words, a shot of pure determination igniting the air around us.

She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it hits me—the sheer weight of everything unspoken between us.

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” She whispers, searching my eyes for the truth. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I did what I had to do,” I reply, my voice low and raw, stripped of pretense. “But I’m not leaving again. Not without you.”

She looks at me, getting lost in the glowing eyes of my mask, and all of a sudden decides to punch me in the face.

She gets a few hits in with no success because of the mask, but I still find it amusing, cute even.

But enough is enough. I grab her wrists and yank them down, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me.

"You want to fucking hit me? You better be able to take it when I get you back."

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