Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (5 page)

I watch frozen in place as Haven rises to her
feet, her dark brown hair shaping her angelic face that's stained
with tears, her tags lying on top of one of my old shirts, her legs
covered in a pair of my gray sweats. Her body is covered in me.
What she could find of me that is. Soon. Soon her body will be
covered in me. Outside and in. Slowly she stalks towards me, the
look on her face simple to decode. Am I real? Am I actually before
her or is this another dream she's reaching out for. I know. I've
been there. I was there.

When she's close enough, I pull her by her
waist and firmly press her against me. Immediately, she breaks
down, tears, dampening my shirt, arms tucked around me, sounds
muffled below me. My head falls to its magical home on top of her
head, my eyes shutting as I try to comfort her, ashamed I'm the
reason her world has been shaken up again.

“Alpha...” I whisper in her ear.

Barely audible she cries out, “Alpha,
Clint?”

There's another hard pull at my heart. I hold
my voice as steady as I can. “Alpha, Haven.” After a long exhale
trying to believe it myself, I say, “I'm home, angel. I'm
home.”

Pulling her face up to look at mine, I brush
away the tears and continue stroking her cheek. A soft sigh of
relief leaves her and I place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“So...” Mindy calls out her nails clinking
against her dark brown coffee mug.

I divert my eyes over to her as Haven's head
falls on my chest again. She has on no makeup. No curls on the ends
of her hair. No “presentable” outfit to the public. All signs Mindy
is not in her right mind. Distraught. Upset. The smell of tomato
tingles my nose again. Another sign. She only makes it when she
feels the worse is headed her way and she can't do anything to stop
it. When I started dating Leighyani. When I signed up for the
Marines. When I was leaving for boot camp. It's her go to recipe
for a crisis. I'm thankful for that smell.

“I know that smell...” I poke at the subject
fishing for a smile. Normality is what I need now. I need to put
all thoughts of Old Man Banks and his murder behind me. I need to
put them behind one titanium wall to never be penetrated. I need
Mindy to smile and fuss at me. I need Haven to smile and kiss me. I
need to go for a jog. Hit the gym. I need to get back into my life
because it's
mine
. Because it hasn't been sacrificed just
for someone else to live. I get to live too.

Sensing my needs as she always has, she picks
up her cup trying to hide her trembles. “And?”

“And how much is coming home with us?”

“None with that attitude.” her eyebrows rise
as she crosses her legs.

“She made enough to feed an entire base of
Marines,” Haven speaks up from my chest, wiping away any remaining
tears, humor clearly trying to creep into her voice.

“Damn. That's a lot of soup.”

Her lips scrunch up as humor attacks her as
well. “I had some time.”

I shake my head. “Maybe we can take some to
Glove and Lordy later.”

“I do like the one with the accent.” Mindy
leans back, relaxation hitting her with each passing breath. Good.
I need her back to normal. God, it’s hard to be away from her for a
day. “Which one was he?”

Haven turns her body around, so her back is
resting against me, my arms snaked around her stomach, nestling her
the way we both need. “That's Lordy. He's from Georgia.”

“He's adorable,” she giggles. “And the one
with enough arrogance to fill an ocean. That's Glove?”

“Right,” I concur from behind her.

“He's got a couple lessons to learn like you
did, Slugger.”

Our eyes meet and I see an obvious remark in
them. Slugger. I'm still her boy. I'm still her unbloodied son. And
like any good mother, she wants to know about her son's friends.
Who he's influencing and who is influencing him. I love her. I
really do.

“Mind if I take my girl home?”

“Please do.” The corner of her lip twists up.
“I need to put my face on. You can see the wrinkles lines you give
me from space.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Oh it's my fault
you have wrinkles?”

“Of course.” she takes another sip of her
coffee. “You're not an easy kid to raise Slugger.”

And that's the truth. In a very serious tone,
after all a Marine—no a Walker, a Walker is only as good as his
word. I've never been prouder to be one. “I'll try to do
better.”

A tear looks like it's trying to weasel
itself onto her face, so quickly she says, “Go, go home you two.
I'll bring you some soup and homemade bread later.”

“Yes ma'am,” I politely nod and wrap an arm
around Haven's shoulder leading her back towards our home. Our
home.

Gathered around the formal dining room table
of our home, I listen to the sound of laughter filling the room.
While most dinners and social functions are at Mindy's since she
does the majority of the cooking, we all agreed that since this is
Haven's first Thanksgiving, our first Thanksgiving as a family,
that it would be best to do it at our home. We haven't had people
over like this since before mom died. Sitting around this table
still gives me an eerie feeling, like any moment mom is going to
appear over my shoulder and pop me for not tucking my dress shirt
in. Or forgetting to button the last button. But I know she's not.
That's a pain I can't just shake. But like everyone else, I have to
move forward.

Mindy places bowls of mash potatoes, sliced
red potatoes, and even brown sugared sweet potatoes in front of
us.

I lean back, my arm on the back of Haven's
chair. Continuing to argue with Doug who is leaned against the back
of our couch with a beer gripped in his hand, I shake my head. “No
way they're gonna win this season.”

“Have you seen them play? What do you think,
Whiskey?” his rebuttal is followed by another batch of testosterone
added to the mix.

“I agree with the Slugger on this one.” he
places the turkey on the table, close to the potatoes.

“I'm with Doug,” Felix chimes in sucking on
his own beer.

“Lordy? Glove?” I invite them to the
conversation.

The two of them are grinning across the table
from me. At first, when Haven suggested we invite them, I hit the
roof. What the fuck would we need them here for? I'm about to spend
several months with them away from her. As usual, my brown eyed
angel had a point. Even if I have to admit. They
are
my
family. On and off duty. They're the brothers mom never gave birth
to. They deserve to be around on this day as much as the rest of
us. Besides, when Lordy told me the two of them would probably just
do beer and burgers for the holiday, I knew I'd never hear the end
of it if they weren't invited.

“I think Doug's got a point,” Lordy
shrugs.

“No way,” Glove shakes his head quickly, his
own beer shifting in his grip. “They may have been playing better
than last year, but don't buy into that meaning anything more.
There's no hope for a Superbowl this year.”

“None.” I toss my face back at Doug with a
smug grin still on my face.

“Boys, boys,” Anna tries to hush us while
assisting Mindy, Leighyani, and Lexi in the relocating of more
dishes like rolls, green beans, and zucchini. One of the beautiful
things about holidays is as far as food goes, when it rains it
pours. Most of the cooking consisted at various households and just
congregated here, with the exception of the turkey, ham, and few
desserts Haven insisted making without my help. I didn't mind
watching her. I never do. Why would I complain about having to
watch my girlfriend lick powdered sugar off her hand? Just the
thought of that is forcing me to readjust in my jeans.

“So cocky, Slugger,” Doug shakes his head at
me.

“Always.” My chuckle is followed by me
leaning over, planting my face beside Havens, my hand stroking her
delicate face that she fussed over for hours. She spent an eternity
deciding what to wear: a thin flowing brown off the shoulder dress
which has my mind constantly picturing my hands just sliding easily
under it. She then fussed over how to wear her hair, pinned up in
one of those meant look messy bun chicks wear. And then she added
just the right amount of make up after much contemplation. I
wouldn't trade her fuss for anything. There's just something about
her not knowing what to wear being our biggest problem I can't take
for granted ever again. For a moment our eyes linger together, a
well-known desire bouncing around them. Fuck. I love that look. I
nudge her nose with mine, until our lips meet. We lollygag in the
moment as if we're the only ones around. As far as I'm concerned we
are.

“Do you have to do that at the table?”
Leighyani sneers. I pull away slowly, eyes still lost in
Haven's.

“I'm curious as to what they're doing
under
the table.” Glove's remark is followed by a devious
chuckle and a gulp from his beer.

“Do you have an off switch?” Her response
finally grabs my attention their direction.

In a lower volume he remarks, “I'd have to be
turned
on
first...”

Looking flustered and more annoyed than
usual, she grumbles something and folds her arms across her chest.
That doesn't make any sense to me since just a couple weeks ago he
asked did I mind if he boned her. Pleased with himself, Glove
chuckles loudly as he leans back.

“You'd think you were married newlyweds
already,” Mindy coos, half annoyed, half awed.

“I bet they already do something like
newlyweds,” Glove says.

Before I can put him in his place, Haven
shoots him an innocent look. “Jealous?”

Damn. That's my girl. Over the past couple of
weeks, she's started to hold her own when Glove gets mouthy. It
makes me proud. It's usually impressive. Another reason to love
her.

Completely unaware of the banter between my
best friend and my girlfriend, Mindy stops mid clearing of empty
beer bottles. “Speaking of, any idea when that's happening?”

I turn so my face towards Haven's again. “I'd
marry her right now.”

I am married to her. I don't need paper or a
judge to declare what I already know. This girl. This woman right
here, born Haven Davenport, reinvented Haven Cartwright is it for
me. And when she's ready she will become Haven Walker.

“No one is getting married or even talking
about marriage until you get back,” a strong fatherly tone cuts
through.

I stroke her face again this time with the
back of my hand. “I know, but if I could--”

He clears his throat, “I know.”

“We all know.” Lordy shoots me an approving
smile.

“I don't wanna know.” Glove pulls on the
collar of his white dress shirt, beer pressed once more to his
lips.

“Don't be such a downer, Michael,” Mindy
sighs, a glass of wine in her hands as she places the bottle on the
table sitting down at her seat on the other side of Haven.

“Sorry, ma'am,” he mumbles like a child who
was caught talking out of turn.

Giving the red wine a small swirl in the
glass, she sighs, “Love is something to be treasured. Never taken
for granted. After all...life is short and at times much shorter
than we anticipate. It's wise to remember to make those moments
you're given count.”

Glove stares at her for a moment before he
nods. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was taking that to
heart. Glove in love some day? He's got a better chance at beating
me in a shooting contest than giving up his selfish bastard ways
and taking “the dive” as he calls it. Ha. Not happening.

“Father of the pencil stabbed victim that we
reported on just a few weeks ago has been found dead in his home.”
The anchor woman from the T.V. in the living room grabs all of our
attention.

Instantly, Haven's body tenses next to mine.
A picture of Left Arm pops on the screen. There's a light foot
twitch beside me.

“According to the authorities, a house fire
took place. It is being reported the fire was not accidental, but
being ruled in the favor of a suicide.” A younger photo of the man
whose throat I slit pops on the screen. He's standing beside a man
that looks vaguely familiar. I know those eyes. I know those
features. My eyes sneak a peak of Haven who is doing her best to
pretend that's not who I think it is on the screen standing next to
that sadistic bastard. Her father.

The T.V. is suddenly shut off and Striker
remarks, “That's enough T.V. don't you think?”

For a moment everyone is silent. We've never
spoken about the events of that dreadful morning he came for Haven.
We've never talked about how I slit his throat. How the

three of us watched him die. We've never
talked about what happened to his body or how we disappeared for an
unannounced camping trip that day. Up until this moment, I had no
more an idea to what happened to that bastard's body than Haven. No
need. Didn't matter. What mattered was I wasn't going to jail.
Haven was safe. And there was peace. Actual peace. Deep peace. An
almost indescribable serenity. Weeks later, it's still here. That's
what matters.

Doug breaks the silence approaching the
table. “Thank you sweetie for making such a delicious Thanksgiving
meal.”

“You're welcome.” Once he's seated she gives
his lap a soft pat and looks at me.

Mindy never asked either. I waited days after
that trip for her to ponder out loud, casually slip it into a
conversation, but she never did. And neither did my girl. She
merely accepted life for what it was at that point and the fact I
was back in her arms. I think Mindy and she saw eye to eye on
that.

Once everyone is settled around the table,
Striker raises to his feet clearly for a toast. Glasses are raised.
“Thanks to our family. Thanks to the blessing we've encountered and
the people we've been blessed with. Thanks to the old family we
have and the new members who have joined...” Eyes shift around
between Haven, Glove, and Lordy. “And may we be blessed to have
Clint, Michael, and Jody return to us safely after they once again
embark on the journey to keep our country safe.”