Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (10 page)

“A lot has changed since you've been gone,
Clint,” the words feel cryptic and cause me to turn my attention to
him. What the fuck does he mean things have changed? What could've
possibly changed that much? Mindy and Doug are still married. Dad's
still alive. Haven's happy. Nothing too life changing seems to have
happened unless there's something he's not telling me.

“What'd do you mean, Dad?”

“I mean...” the hesitation in his voice is
unfamiliar to me. Since when does he neglect to tell me how it is?
Since when am I not man enough to take whatever it is he's trying
to communicate with the action? “You're gonna need this.”

My mouth opens to ask for further explanation
when the sound of the front door opens and I hear an exasperated
sigh. I know that voice. Effortlessly my mouth curls up into a
smile. She's home. My girl's home.

Forgetting all about what he was trying to
tell me, I turn back in and head for her, “Angel, you're home.”

“Barely,” her annoyed growl catches me off
guard. Looks like the real world isn't being sunshine and
butterflies for her. It better just be normal life stress
relations. I would hate to kick someone's ass my first day back.
Well maybe not hate. I've been too relaxed for my own good today.
Last time I let my guard this much it ended in blood shed.

With a shake of my head trying to put that
thought out of mine I ask, “Bad day at school?”

“A little.” she shrugs, frustration written
clearly all over her face in neon lights.

I walk over, hug her, and hold her tight.
Close to my chest, cradling her. She still needs me. Needs me to
hold her. To protect her. To offer her comfort. I'm grateful she
still needs me.

“I missed you,” her voice coos as her hands
stroke my back. “And not just today.”

Pulling away from her, I push the loose
strand out of her face. “I missed you too...
especially
today.”

I wiggle my eyebrows and she starts giggling
her mood immediately lightening. God, that laugh. My entire
existence should be devoted to that sound and the life that comes
from it.

Dad rounds the corner. “Haven.”

“Hey Whiskey,” she calls over her
shoulder.

“How'd that test go today?” Test? What test?
I should know she had a test. A good boyfriend would know she had a
test.

“Not my best work.” The look of
disappointment arrives once more as she pulls out of my grip and
turns to face him. So that's what she's sulking about. Why does dad
know and I don't? I used to be able to read her better. 10 months
away is affecting a lot more than our sex life I see.

“Not you’re worst either.” It's not a
question but a declaration. “No one's perfect, Haven.”
“But this test was
so
important,” her bottom lip slips
between her teeth. “I needed this A.”

“You didn't
need
this A,” he
corrects.

Suddenly, I realize it's much worse than me
not knowing she had a test. I don't know what classes she's taking.
I don't know if she's succeeding or not. The realization I know
less about my girlfriend than my father has me rubbing my now
tensing shoulder in an attempt to remain calm.

“Okay,” she huffs, “so I didn't
need
this A, but I wanted it. And I know I didn't study as hard as I
could've but I thought I had it. I just kind of expected it--”

“And that's where you went wrong,” his
fatherly tone is strong and takes me off guard. I never got
lectures like this when I was in high school. I kept my grades up
and problems to myself or Mindy when she would catch me frustrated
at the kitchen bar with my math homework. To put it bluntly, I told
my Algebra homework on more than one occasion to go fuck itself.
“Never half ass study. And never expect your grades to be great
just because you think they should be. You want good results. You
better be putting forth the effort. Earn them.”

Haven meekly responds, “You're right.”

I prepare to jump down dad's throat for
coming down so harshly on Haven when he says, “Clint is the best
example of what hard work can get you. He trained for years to be
in an elite unit. And his hard work will pay off.”

A small amount of pride swells in my chest. I
didn't know Sir knew that I was training back then. I never thought
he was paying any attention to me. Looks like I was wrong
again.

“Won't it, Slugger?” His eyebrows rise. Oh.
He's setting me up to tell Haven about school. Paving the way for
the conversation to go that direction, prepared on standby to help
if needed. But just like before, I'm not ready to talk about it.
Not yet.

I offer Haven a small smile. “Always
does.”
His eyes lower to a glare at me before focusing back on Haven.
“You're just going to have to put in a little extra work. I know
this class has been difficult for you, but don't stop the hard
work. You'll get there.”

“God I hope so,” she whispers shaking her
head. “Maybe I'll ask Michele for a little extra help.”

Dad merely hums and sticks his hands in his
pockets. He's clearly trying to avoid the topic of her friend
Michele. Maybe he doesn't like her. Maybe she's a bad influence. He
would know better than me at this point.

“Shouldn't you two be getting ready?”

“Right,” his cut in helps disrupt the runaway
train of despair. No need to worry about any of that right now.
Plenty of time to learn. Who am I kidding? Less than a month is
almost no time. But then again, I fell in love with her in minutes.
Time between the two of us isn't the same as it is for everyone
else. “I need to shower and shave.”

“Go ahead,” Haven insists pulling out her
cell phone. “I need to text Mandy anyway.”

She lifts her gray uniform covered body and
kisses me softly on the lips. I relax. All the stress from not
knowing these new people, these new threats or dangers in Haven's
life dissolves. The kiss is too brief but given the extra person in
the room and the circumstances it's understandable.

After a long overdue shower, I dress while
Haven showers. I grab my jeans, a button down white shirt, and my
navy blazer. The memory of this being what I wore to the last
dinner causes my face to twitch into a smile. I knew that would be
the first of many welcome home dinners with Haven. As I go to close
the closet door, I notice the change inside. Haven's got
sundresses, fall dresses, and her school uniforms woven in between
my clothes. The sight causes me to smile again. Things really have
changed. I look around the room at the soft color of the new
caramel colored sheets, the night stand that has four books, all
hers stacked on it, hair ties, earrings, lotion, and the picture of
me Glove gave her for her birthday. On the dresser is her cell
phone. A hair brush. Scattered make up. Her lap top with a bright
yellow cover. Heels are kicked close by it. My room looks like
anything but mine. It's not really mine anyway. It's ours.

Once changed, I wait downstairs patiently for
her the words of Sir humming in my mind. What did he mean things
have changed? Haven's attitude? Sure. She's perkier. More
confident. Really invested in something outside the house. She has
her own life. My living quarters? Definitely. I've never seen so
much girly shit in my room. Before I left, Haven had just started
getting comfortable despite Mindy's overwhelming first attempt at
overhaul with scented candles and such. Sure, I was accustomed to
simple, but I wanted to be accustomed to Haven. I changed for her.
For myself. For the better.

Haven clears her throat yanking my attention
up. She's wearing a black dress similar to the one my mother used
to wear except this one wraps around her neck. In fact, I can see
every curve that has now been manicured to appear. I can
practically feel each and every one under my fingers. All I want is
that dress on the floor. I moan under my breath a bit. I can't take
her to dinner like this. Glove might be tempted to let his eyes do
what mine are. Then I'd have to fucking gouge his eyes out. Twice.
For good measure.

“While I appreciate more than words could
ever say, you letting me wear your mother's dress, it is a bit too
snug now. If you haven't noticed I've put on a few pounds--”

“Beautiful pounds.” I correct her.

“Healthy pounds,” she giggles. “I'm proud to
say I'm now at the target weight Striker insisted I reach, which
just happens to be a little bigger than your mother was, so I
needed a new dress. Plus, I kinda wanted to have my own Hello dress
for you.” Her smile is soft. Warm. Inviting. “What do you think?
Mindy helped me pick it out.”

Crossing over to her, my hand fall to her
hips. They fit like there are inserts for my hands right there.
This gorgeous girl, in this gorgeous dress, in these gorgeous black
heels is all mine. And worried about pleasing me. How fucking lucky
am I?

“I think,” I lift her hand to my lips,
“you...” Kiss. “Look...” Kiss. “Perfect.” I kiss her on the lips.
Since my lips are already on top of hers I take the chance to taste
her top lip, the faint sweet flavor of her lip gloss increasing my
excitement.

Her girlish giggle is followed by her backing
up, “Come on, solider, before we don't make it to the party...”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?”

She shoots me a playful scolding look before
turning around to leave. I wrap my arms around her once more, this
time from behind. This is what life should be like. Easy. Carefree.
Fun.

At the party, we're greeted warmly by
everyone who seems to be more eager than normal that I've returned.
It was slightly longer than I expected. I haven't been away that
long in a while. And while in the past it didn't bother me, the
idea of being away from Haven that long again creates an
unexplained ache in my chest.

Striker and Dad seem to be having a
conversation over a drink by the fireplace, the familiar golden
brown color occupying their glasses. Doug and Felix seem to be
laughing over a similar drink closer to the bar. Mindy is fussing
over everyone making sure they have something to eat. The gathering
seems well under way proving once more; I could've had Haven
quickly before we came over. Maybe against the wall? Or over the
edge of the couch? My body threatens to respond to the
thoughts.

“Mandy's calling,” Haven says sweetly, just
steps into the living room. “I'll be right back. She probably got
lost. She always makes at least one wrong turn.”

I nod and slide my hands in my jeans pockets.
My eyes follow the movement of her hips until she's out of sight,
which is when I turn around to take in the scene. This is my
family. Eating. Enjoying each other's company. Making life seem as
marvelous as it really it is. God, it feels good to be home. Words
I never thought I'd think.

“Hey Clint,” Leighyani's voice pops in my
ear. Slowly turning my body to face her, I notice her attire is
screaming for attention. Glad some things never change. The dress
is bright red. Strapless. Short. So tight it looks painted on. How
does Striker let her leave the house looking like this? She's
always so under dressed that if I cared about her more than I do,
I'd be inclined to offer my jacket or at least remind her that she
looks for sale.

“Leighyani.”

Her tongue wets her lips. “Good to see you
made it home in one piece.”

“Good to be home.”

She offers a faint smile and fiddles with the
wine glass in her hand. “Look, I just wanted to say I hope there
are no hard feelings between us.”

“For making my girlfriend's life a living
nightmare or for sleeping with my best friend?”

She looks taken off guard. “I didn't sleep
with Glove.” Before I can respond she shakes her head. “About
Haven. I realized I never actually apologized to you for anything.
While you were away, I managed to muster up the courage to talk to
Haven--”

Fury shoots through my veins like it was
injected with a needle, “You were alone with my girlfriend?”

“I--”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I--”

“Leighyani, if you laid a finger on
her--”

“Will you just calm the fuck down for a
minute,” her free hand raises. I shut my mouth and allow her a
minute compose her as I try to calm down as well. “God, you're so
fucking intense when it comes to her, you know that?”

A short shoulder shrug escapes me. “I've been
told that.”

“Anyway, it was a supervised conversation. I
apologized to her. I wanted to let know I was wrong for the way I
had been treating her, the hateful things I said to her and about
her. She didn't deserve it. And neither did you. While you were
gone, I had a chance to realize I was a little jealous of her.” A
little jealous? Understatement. I raise my eyebrows. “Fine. A lot
of jealous. Not the point. The point is...I saw the way you look at
her. The way you care. The way you'd do anything for her and you'd
had just met. I didn't get it...I
don't
get it.” She sips a
drink like the emotions are too much to handle. “Back on subject. I
told her I was sorry and now I'm telling you. Sorry, Clint.”

“Thanks,” I grumble unsure of what has
sparked her change of heart. Leighyani has never been one for
sincere apologies. Ones with ulterior motives. Definitely. She is
the master of manipulation. Yet this feels real. It's weird.
Uncomfortable. Seeing her reminds me of another face who tried to
hurt my angel. One who if he breathes the wrong direction will end
up six feet under. My body stiffens immediately as a result.

“He's not here,” Leighyani says as if she's
noticed the change. Am I that obvious?

“Where is he?”

“Rehab.” Puzzled, my face lifts in confusion.
Howard's not much for quitting. No more really than Leighyani is
for apologizing. Seems Dad was right. Things have changed.
“Parent's shipped him off right about the time you left. Some
remote expensive high end place in Arizona. The program's at least
a year. Hear he's doing well. They go visit once every couple of
months.”