Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (8 page)

“Hey, I'll be back.”

“Where you goin'?” Lordy asks.

“What are you his mother?” Glove jumps in,
his feistiness? not sure about this word?? 8up an extra level
courtesy of beer 5. I appreciate that he runs like clockwork. Moves
predictable. Moves easily anticipated. Makes it that much easier
for me to cover his ass when needed. You know, I use to hate being
his fucking babysitter. Now? Wouldn't have it another way.

“Phone call,” I give Lordy the information
anyway.

He needs the security of knowing where his
brothers are at all times when we're out. Usually he's within a
head smack of Glove and I'm crashed out at the hotel by now, but I
can't sleep. With the facts that are fighting for rights to be a
priority, a drink with them seemed like a wise choice.

Once I've left the table, I step outside into
the cool D.C. air. Cold. Harsh. Almost like the warm and cold had a
divorce on who won the earth. No remains that heat ever existed.
It's so fucking cold my balls are trying to give themselves a new
home in my rib cage.

With the hit of a button, it connects me
Haven's phone, which goes straight to voice mail. Odd. I shake it
off and try again. Voice mail. Looking at the time I try to remain
calm. Its 10 back home. She shouldn't be in class. Stay calm Clint.
You know who to call.

“You do know that some of us are trying to
get some sleep before they have to pick up some jar head from the
airport right?”

“I know, dad,” my voice strains out.
“Sorry.”

“What do you need, son?”

“Is Haven home? Her phone...it uh...went
straight to voice mail.”

“She went to dinner and the movies with some
friends.”

“Got it.” Dinner and the movies with friends.
Well look at my girl. She's so...normal now. Never would've known
she used to be a prisoner. Then again you would never think I was
cold blooded killer. We've all got secrets. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing. See you in the morning.”

“Night.” My fingers hit the end button.

Rubbing my nose in an attempt to warm it back
up, I hit her number again. I'll leave a voice mail. She'll call
back whenever she gets in. After a brief message about her not
being able to answer I sheepishly leave a message.

“Hey angel, I guess you're out doing
something more exciting that waiting for me by the phone”—probably
could've phrased that better— “whatever it is I hope you're having
fun”— I can't tell her I'm so fucking paranoid I called my dad to
see where you were— “and just call me when you get in. I love
you.”

I press the end button feeling like such a
pussy. When did I become that guy who had to call his girl just to
hear her voice? Who was devastated when she didn't answer? Was I
this way before she was almost ripped away from me or just after? I
give my face a scrub with my empty hand and try to shake it off. No
need to give Glove extra ammo to annoy me.

My return to the table presents me with a
sight that's not a surprise. There are four girls surrounding our
table, empty shot glasses on it. Looks like they've moved onto to
Phase 2 of the evening. Phase 1 Subtraction. Drinking to remove all
thoughts of the horrors we just faced and the possible destruction
it’s done to them. Phase 2 Addition. Add liquor and girls. Phase 3
Multiplication. No explanation needed there I'm sure.

The black haired one rocking a pair skin
tight jeans and a sweater that looks anything but warm is in my
chair. With a roll of the eyes, I sigh, “Do you mind? You're in my
chair.”

She whips her head around and a look of
arousal flashes across her face. Like she just hit some sort of
jackpot. Maybe she doesn't like the idea of competing against her
friends. Doesn't matter. If she wants to go home with someone she's
going to have to or relocate to another group of guys.

“You're in the Marines, too, huh?” Her lips
purse together, eyes on my tags.

“Hey, Snow White, ” Glove's voice invades
before I have a chance to answer. “In the words of our first lady
of hip-hop, he liked it so he put a ring on it.”

Bizarre. I'm not sure what frightens me more.
That Glove just cock blocked
for
me or his knowledge of
Beyoncé. Both honestly are leaving me with creepy chills down my
spine.

“Oh...” she nods and politely stands up
turning her attention back to my best friends. Tossing a look over
her shoulder she sighs, “Good for you.”

I didn't put a ring on it. I put tags on it.
But I may be putting a ring on it when I get home. God, look what
Glove's done to me. Now I'm referencing it. I hate him.

“But I'll be more than willing to take all
the Single Ladies;” he follows up with as a blonde slides happily
onto his lap; another round of shots is heading for our table.

The girls giggle and Snow White invites
herself to sit on Lordy's lap. Instead of complaining, he wraps an
arm around her waist and shoots a remark at our own Hef, “First the
Gossip Girl reference. Now Beyoncé. If you make one more girly ass
reference, I'm canceling our cable subscription.”

Laughter breaks out across the table
including from me. While the girls clearly have banging them on the
agenda, they stick around for a couple more drinks and chuckles. I
may not have another beer and I may be checking my phone often
waiting for it to ring, but I can say that for the first time, I
don't mind being out with them like this. Even though Glove is only
getting louder and his comments dirtier. And even though Lordy is
becoming more and more a carbon copy of him with each passing sip.
I don't mind. Not one bit.

On active duty, there are often cold nights
with time to think. Think about your regrets. Think about the
mission. Your decisions. Your failures. Time to wallow in
self-pity. Time to be accessible to the shit you're afraid of. The
shit that is slowly driving you insane. There's also time to think
about all the shit you got right. The people who matter. The woman
you love. There's all this time to think about how perfect their
smile is. The glow from their eyes. Complexion flaw free. You start
remembering their laugh sounding like a necessary melody to
function. What it's like to have their arms wrapped around you.
Body warming yours. Sometimes you get so wrapped up in the thoughts
of them, your mind starts to play tricks. Have doubts. No one could
possibly be that beautiful. No one could possibly smell that great.
No one could possibly be that perfect. Yet somehow, Haven is.

The sliding glass doors of the airport
release us to the warm September air and into the arms of the one
person I couldn't spend the rest of my life without.

“Clint!” Her arms fly around my neck.

Waiting for her to be back in my arms was
like waiting to breathe. My bag drops to the ground as I cradle her
close to my chest, my arms encompassing everything that matters in
my life. I squeeze tighter. With a long inhale, I enjoy the
simplicity of just having this angel back in my arms. Fuck. I'm
such a sap.

I pull away, slide my fingers through the
back of the hair on her neck, and tug her to me, lips mounting
hers. Fuck that's good. She pushes her body further into me, lips
moving slowly. God they're softer than I remember. Sweet. Sticky
from lip gloss. Our lips stay touching until her mouth opens
inviting me in to dance. To twist around and sample every inch of
what I've been missing. Her tongue teases mine. How the hell do I
ever leave this girl?

Someone clears their throat and the warmth of
her body and the heat of her tongue leaves me. I don't know how
long I can hold out on keeping my hands off of her, especially now
that I've had the chance to taste her again.

“Slugger!” Mindy reaches out for me.

Dragging myself out of Haven's grip, I hug
her softly. Her small frame that's cloaked in an expensive designer
burgundy suit, expensive designer black heels, and from the smell
even more expensive designer perfume nestles against my chest.
Comfort. Gratefulness.

I open my mouth and she points at me,
“Mindy.”

“Mindy.” My smile is huge. Genuine.

With that, I turn to my dad who is in his
uniform, arms folded across his chest, a stern look on his face.
Prepared for the cold welcoming I usually receive, I extend my hand
towards him.

“I see you're still a good Marine.”

“Yes Sir.”

And once his hand in his mine, he pulls me to
his chest, giving me a heavy pat on the back filled with emotion.
Appreciation. Affection. In a tone so low I know no one else can
hear he says, “Glad to have you home, son.”

Taking a step back, I see Mindy wiping tears
out of her eyes as she crosses her arms across her chest. “Michael.
Jody.”

“Mrs. Mindy,” they recite together. What are
they twins now?

“Just Mindy, boys. Mrs. makes me feel
so...old.”

“Sorry.” Again. Together. They need to learn
to spend time apart.

After picking up my bag, I drape my arm
around Haven's shoulder, tugging her beside me, her body completing
mine, “Mind giving these two a ride home?”

“Well, who else would?” she rolls her eyes
dangling her keys from her hands.

The six of us head to Mindy's brand new black
SUV in the parking garage. According to Haven, she picked it up a
few months ago anticipating our arrival. Apparently, something told
her that she would be making plenty more trips that needed the
extra room. Personally, I think she needed more room for her
shopping bags.

Haven and I crawl in the very back, Glove and
Lordy in the middle, and dad riding shot gun. In the back seat, we
buckle up, and I toss my arm around the back of seat letting
Haven's head fall on my chest. I need these moments in life. More
of them. All of them.

Conversation in the front of the vehicle
commences yet doesn't hold my attention for long. How can it?
Haven's sweet sugary smell is so overwhelming. So invigorating. So
enthralling that my attention to just falls on her. The changes I
see in her. Physically and emotionally. She appears more confident
in her own skin. She radiates a level of confidence that rivals
with Mindy's own. Looks like she's proud of herself. And damn
that's sexy. Speaking of sexy my eyes wander over what has become
of the body that I claimed as mine what seems like just yesterday.
I drink in her face that is slightly fuller than I remember,
painted with a faint bit of makeup. The way her curves have
expended has to be the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen. Her
dress is clung to them like they are desperate to be a part of
them. Like they are desperate to be welcomed by them. The tags I
got her for her birthday look at home on top of her breasts that
are calling my name.

As if hearing that thought, Haven looks up at
me, innocence dancing in her brown eyes at first. Suddenly, she
licks her lips and nibbles on the bottom one. Fuck. Me. My body
responds immediately. To my surprise, she slips a hand across my
thigh onto the obvious bulge. She begins stroking me on top of my
jeans. Slowly. Deliberately. Seductively. Holy. Hell.

“Right, Grim?” Lordy tosses a look back at me
looking for some sort of response.

Unsure of what the question is I merely grunt
in agreement, straining underneath Haven's touch. Seeing me
speechless seems to make her happy. She's grinning at me.
Playfully.

I lean over to whisper in her ear, “Are you
trying to kill me?”

She smirks, flicks me a guiltless look and
whispers back, “Yes. Is it working?” With a soft pull of her
tongue, she tastes my earlobe and I feel my breath hitch. I can't
keep on like this. I can't— Haven hushes the debate in my head by
giving a gentle tug to my cock on the outside of the denim prison
known as my jeans. My mouth drops as I stifle the sound that would
like to squeak out of it and force my eyes shut. Self. Control.
Marine. You've had months of it. You can have a few minutes more.
Self. Control.

Haven giggles and releases her touch placing
her hands back in her lap. That might have been worse than enemy
torture.

I force my eyes back open to see Glove giving
me a suspicious look. Part of me thinks he knows what's going on
back here. And part of me couldn't give a shit. I don't care. The
only thing I care about is this gorgeous angel and the fact I've
been returned home to have time with her once again. And how I plan
to spend that time showing her I missed her in and out of bed.

After Mindy drops Glove and Lordy off, during
which she invites them to the welcome home dinner tonight and they
graciously accept, we route our way home, conversations full of
Mindy's voice mostly. No wonder though. From the way Haven keeps
licking her lips at me and not innocently touching me, it's crystal
clear we both only have one thing on our mind.

Pulling into the driveway, Mindy reminds us,
“The party is tonight, Slugger, so please try to be on time.” She
really hates when I'm late to my own get together. My suggestion
for her to stop having them in my name has received a very firm
scolding in the past, so no need to object to it now. “And Haven, I
know you'll be in class almost right up until the party, but don't
worry about anything, honey. I can handle the last parts of the
desserts.”

Haven smiles politely back. “Thanks, Mindy.
And you said it was alright if Mandy and Michele come right?”

“As long as Slugger doesn't mind...” her
voice trails to me while my eyes are trailing down the small dip in
the front of Haven's dress. The way it's like a tiny window to her
breasts is starting to wear down on that self-control.

Suddenly, Haven clears her throat forcing my
eyes back up to hers and then to Mindy's. “What?”

She does her best to hide her smirk as Mindy
repeats, “Do you mind if Michele and Mandy come tonight?”

“Of course not. Any friends of Havens are
friends of mine.”