Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (21 page)

“Look.” Glove leans both his arms on the
table. “Ever since you started dating Haven, I have been to
birthday parties, Thanksgiving, graduations, and 'grown up'
dinners. I haven't complained once--”

“You complained every time--”

“Not the point,” Glove cuts me off. “The
point is, I have done these for you, and you will do this for me.
You will go next door and drink so that I get my lesson in sex ed
tonight.”

Looking him dead in his eyes, I find myself
torn between going home and waiting for Haven and doing something
for him. He rarely asks me to play wing man. Or at least since I've
been dating Haven. Actually the two of them rarely ask me for much
these days and make sure to give us all the space we need. For the
two of them it's quite impressive.

“Come on, man. What are you gonna do? Just
sit around and wait for Haven like a puppy with your wagging tail
at the door?” Lordy speaks up finishing his beer.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

Cracking a smile Lordy nods. “That's a
yes.”

Annoyed I groan. “One drink.”

“Good enough.” Glove smirks as the girls
return.

We head next door to a nightclub where Glove
just happens to know the bouncers, so we get to skip ahead past the
line without any effort or paying a cover charge. At least this
little mission to get him some tail and Lordy a chance to at least
pick up the slack isn't costing me anything more than testing my
ability to swallow the irritating club scene.

Once inside, we head up straight to the
second floor and to the bar on that level. Following behind the two
brunettes who are wrapped around each other, constantly stilling
glances over their shoulders of me and Lordy, we linger behind some
of those waiting to be served.

The girls decide to go to grab a table for us
on the side leaving us to move next to Glove who has managed to
shove his way up the bar. To no surprise I hear him say, “I need
six shots of vodka!”

Immediately, I lean over his shoulder. “I'm
not doing a shot, Glove!”

With a grunt, he rolls his eyes and gently
elbows the girl beside him, “Don't you think he should do a shot
with me?”

The girl turns and squeaks, “Michael?”

That voice. His name. My attention is now on
full alert. This is wrong.

“Mandy?” he croaks back confused.

“Oh my god!” she squeals again this time
pushing her hair behind her ear and tossing her arms around him.
Since when are they that friendly? Glove shoots me a look. Clearly,
he wasn't expecting it either. “What are you guys doing here?” She
sees me and smiles brightly. “Did you change your mind?”

The sinking feeling something is wrong hits
again harder. Terribly wrong. Swallowing the forming knot of
insecurity forming I quickly mutter out, “What do you mean?”

“Haven said that you didn't wanna come.” she
bounces in a drunken manner again, this time with Glove's eyes
plastered directly on her tits.

I grind my jaw for a brief moment. Keep calm
Clint. Keep. Calm. With a heavy sigh I tilt my head to the side and
ask, “Where
is
Haven?”

“Oh she and Michele are right over there.”
she points and turns her attention. Quickly she mumbles, “Oh
shit...”

Then there's an echo from Lordy and Glove in
unison, “Oh shit...”

My head snaps to the side. Like I'm trained
to, my vision centers in on her. The sight turns my blood ice cold.
I see Haven. I see Michele. And I see the two of them with their
lips stuck together. He has one hand wrapped around the back of her
neck. Maybe he's forcing her? That's when one of Haven's hands runs
down the front of his chest. There's no misreading that. Red. All I
see is red.

One minute I'm standing next to Mandy and the
next minute my fist is shattering Michele's jaw sending him flying
backwards onto a small table, spilling the drinks of a couple who
was sitting on the couch behind them. There's an immediate
shrieking yet I'm not sure who it is. I want the bastard to get up.
I want him to put up a fight. I want his sorry ass to gather on his
feet so I have another excuse to lay him down. Lay him out. End
him. But he doesn't move. He just lays there. Out cold. Suddenly I
feel a pair of hands on me and I know it's not a pair I
recognize.

“Whoa. Whoa. I got this Bruno,” Glove
insists, ushering me away from the scene. And I go. No objection.
No restraint. I let him lead me out of the club though there's
still screeching and grumbling about me never returning. No worries
there. None.

As soon as we're outside and the cool night
air hits me, I let out the breath that I feel has been pent up
inside of me all fucking night. That's when I look up to see my
brothers staring at me, shock plastered on their face.

Looking Glove dead in the face I say in a
calm tone. “Take me to the liquor store.”

With a shake of the head, he carefully says,
“Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea--”

Before he can move, I transfer my weight;
shove him up against the wall, my forearm lodged sharply in his
throat. Meeting both his eyes I very calmly state, “I don't give a
fuck what you think right now. You're going to give Lordy your
keys. We're going to the liquor store. I'm going to get fucked up.
I'm going to drink until this day never fucking existed. Are we
clear?”

I drop my elbow to allow him to speak, “Grim,
I--”

Gripping him by the collar of his shirt, I
shove him harshly against the brick wall this time with more force
than before. “Are we fucking clear?”

He nods. Glove removes his car keys and hands
them to Lordy who's had only one beer as well. I let him go and
back away slowly. Cool. Level headed. It's at the moment my cell
phone starts to ring in my pocket.

Still rubbing his throat, Glove just looks
off in the distance clearly biting his tongue. Lordy clears his
throat and points the keys towards my pocket, “Uh...you gonna get
that?”

I slide my phone out of my pocket to see her
name. With a simple nod, I pull back and give the phone a strong
throw right into the wall beside Glove who flinches and says
loudly, “Fuck!”

Turning my attention back to Lordy, I shrug.
“Can we go now?”

Not waiting for a response, I turn and head
towards the lot we parked in never looking back. The amount of the
adrenaline pumping through my veins is soothing. Familiar. Missed.
In fact, the chaos that was rolling around inside me before is
dead. Dead as it's ever been. And while it isn't the exact peace
that I was expecting. It's familiar. Soothing. Simple. Something my
life has been missing lately.

Fuck. There's a steady throbbing in my head
that won't subside. I groan. The throbbing increases. I've never
felt anything like this before in my life. My hands land over my
eyes and I drag them down my face in an attempt to rattle myself
conscious. Why the hell do I feel this way? In an attempt to sit
up, I growl out in pain, my brain pounding. Fuck! It bangs harder
against my skull. Demanding an exit. As I open my eyes the pounding
increases until I shut them back, resting my head back against...a
pillow? A mattress? Where the hell am I?

“Morning, Pretty, Pretty Princess!” a rotten
voice croaks out from close proximity to me, answering me my
previous question.

I grunt, “Do you have to be so fucking
loud?”

“Yes!” His voice rings in my ears like church
bells in high definition.

Another growl slips out of me as I struggle
to open my eyes once. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You my friend are officially hung over,”
Lordy's voice joins the conversation in a softer volume. To him,
I'm grateful.

Hung over? How is that even possible? The
flashes from last night start flicking around in my mind like a
broken strobe light, the action too fast, the light too intense,
the stimulation too much. Michele and Haven kissing. Knocking him
out in that club. A liquor store. A gold colored drink. Whiskey?
Whiskey. Shots. And shots. And more shots of whiskey. The thought
of the word alone forces my stomach to gurgle in displeasure.

“Have you never been hung over before?”
Glove's accusation causes me to finally sit up and muster through
the pain that's pumping at me heavily.

“No.”

“Really?” The disbelief in his voice causes
me to roll my eyes. It hurts. Fuck. Why does everything fucking
hurt? “How are we even friends?”

With another groan, I mutter, “Good fucking
question.”

“WHAT!” Glove's jackass tactics appear again.
I wince and he laughs slouching back against the chair, folding his
hands behind his head.

“Glove, as soon as the room stops spinning,
I'm going to tie your vocal chords into knots.” My head falls
backwards hitting the back of the couch.

“And until then, this is going to be fun,” he
chuckles again this time it's followed by the sound of a door
slamming.

A grumble leaves me and I lift my head up to
see a curvy brunette with her heels dangling from her fingers, a
dress two inches shorter than should be legal, and a shit eating
grin that means she must have gotten a slice of Glove. Of course
she did.

“Oh!” she giggles loudly. I cringe. “I didn't
think you'd all be awake already.”

“Well, we are,” Glove wiggles his eyebrows at
her.

“You're such a flirt,” she waves a hand at
him. “And you.” she points at Lordy. “Mmm,” Her attention then
lands on me, “Thanks again for last night, Grim. It
was...amazing...”

My eyebrows scrunch together. What the fuck
does that mean? What the fuck is she talking about? I didn't....I
couldn't...there's no way I would have...right? Not even possible.
At the attempt to remember my brain begins to knock against my
skull.

“So...” she twirls her body back towards
Glove.

“Yup,” he nods his head at her and she exits
out the front door closing it quietly. Thankfully.

When she's finally gone my face flushes with
panic. “What was she talking about?”

Lordy's eyes shift to Glove. That's when
Glove's shift to me. He lowers his arms down to his knees so he's
leaning forward, that shit eating grin on his face loud as his
obnoxious voice. I don't buy it. No. Fucking. Way.

“You don't remember?”

Slowly I sigh, “No.”

“Oh Grim...” he shakes his head slowly.
“Grim...Grim...Grim...”

“I didn't fuck that girl.”

“Well--”

Panic rises. Fast. Steady. “I didn't sleep
with her! There's no way I could have.”

“But you don't remember?” Lordy's voice joins
us.

Great. Now not only is my head pounding but
my body is trembling. Feels like the adrenaline from last night is
still woven in with the liquor. My fist clenches. Unclenches.
Threatens to smash through their coffee table.

Glove shrugs. “You didn't. You didn't fuck
her Grim.” I close my eyes thankful. I knew I wouldn't have done
that to Haven. Couldn't have. Not even with her betrayal. “You just
stayed up late rambling to her about what a heart broken chump you
are. You also let her cry to you about her ex-boyfriend and how she
deserves so much better, which led her to my bed. So. Thank you for
that. But that...that fear and anxiety you're feeling? Good. You
need that.”

Annoyed I pop my eyes back open. “Why do I
need that?”

“Because that's the love you have for your
girl who you need to go home and talk to.” His words don't even
register. In fact it almost feels like his mouth is moving in slow
motion and the words are non-existent.

Swallowing chunk of whatever emotion is
trying to claw its way up my stomach, I scrub my face once more
with my hands. Fuck that. I'm not ready to deal with that. Or her.
Or anything really.

I change the subject. “How long is my fucking
head gonna be like this?”

“Give it a few hours,” Lordy sighs. “Some
greasy food will help.”

The word food forces my stomach to churn.
Another groan leaves me and both of them laugh. Assholes. I rub the
back of my neck. “God, I could use a work out.”

“When you're back on your feet, light weight.
We'll grab some grub, indulge us in some chick flick moment, then
hit the gym to watch girls in their yoga shorts bend into sexual
positions and call it a workout.” Glove scratches his bare chest.
How the fuck is it I constantly see him half dressed?

“Grub? Yes. Chick flick moment? Fuck you.
Pass. Gym? Yes. Yoga bullshit? Never.” my response gets a smirk
from the two of them. Curious as to what time it is I start
searching the coffee table with my eyes. Where's my phone? Confused
I ask, “Phone?”

Another smug look crawls on Glove's face.
“You mean yours?”

“No shit smart-ass. Where the hell is my
phone?”

The remark causes Lordy to toss a zip-loc bag
on the table. “You mean that?”

I look at what looks like hundreds of pieces.
Shattered. Yet all together in one place. Like reporting for the
mission to be my phone again. From the sight in the bag, that looks
like a lost mission.

“Remember that?” Lordy's question forces me
to fold my arms across my chest.

“Vaguely...”

“Vaguely?” Glove whines. “Vaguely! You almost
nailed me in the head!”

“Relax,” I slump against the couch, the
throbbing finally slowing down. “You forget why you call me
Grim.”

“Not forgotten,” Glove clarifies. “And after
what we saw yesterday...I have a feeling there might be a new
reason.”

His stab at the situation with Haven isn't
missed. But instead of acknowledging it, I close my eyes and shut
him out. Shut them both out. Shut out the reality that's waiting
for me.

After a short nap on Glove's couch, a greasy
bacon cheeseburger, countless pushups, sits up, two kick boxing
classes, and a quick stop to buy a new phone, I finally manage to
pull into the driveway of my own house.