All the Sky (31 page)

He was apologizing.

“You knew.” Havoc’s mind spun and then just stopped.

“No. No, man. I didn’t know this.” He stopped, and the silence between them dropped like lead. “I knew Halyard was back. Showed up in a routine intel check I ran for the Scorps about a week ago. He’s working with the Perro Blanco cartel—the people we work with. You, too—they’re the source of the weed you’re running.”

“You knew.”

“Hav, listen. I went to Hoosier and told him about Halyard and reminded him of the history. Hoosier ordered me to keep quiet. I told him I couldn’t, that I had to tell you what I found, and he asked me if I was willing to put my old lady on that line. It’s been killing me, Hav. But Riley—I couldn’t. She’s an innocent. And she’s pregnant. What the Perros could do…I tried to warn Dom, push him to the same intel I found, but I guess he hasn’t found it yet. I tried to do what I could. I had no idea Halyard would do this. If I’d thought…I swear I would have told you. Brother, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t call me that.” Rage was churning Havoc’s stomach into an acidic soup.

“Fuck. Hav, no. Come on. I love you, brother. Always brothers, right?” He could hear that Bart was crying. Pussy.

Hav ended the call and threw his phone across the room. It bounced off a poster of a vintage Harley and fractured into pieces. Havoc stared at that poster for a long time.

Then he got up. He went to the Room and collected the sledgehammer he’d earlier used on Mac Evans, exacting repayment for what he’d done to Nolan. Hefting its weight in his hands, he went down to the bays and pulled the vinyl cover off Bart’s 1967 Electro Glide, beautifully restored, black on white, the product of years of loving work and friendship.

He cocked the hammer over his shoulder like a Louisville Slugger.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Nolan was playing the handheld video game thingy that Isaac and Lilli had given him, so he was pretty much ignoring Cory. She was watching The Bachelor, because that’s what was on the television and the remote was attached to Nolan’s bed. She’d asked twice if he’d change the channel, but he was engrossed. So she watched the stupid show and thought about how wonderful it would be to get her kid home and away from the hospital. If only so she’d have something to do.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she smiled, thinking it would be Havoc. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a number she knew. She almost ignored it, but then she remembered that Havoc had told her that the club used ‘burner’ phones, and the numbers changed a lot, so she should answer unfamiliar calls. So she answered.

“Hey, doll. It’s Len.” He was the only one who called her ‘doll,’ and his gruff, smoke-roughened voice was distinctive anyway, so she hadn’t needed him to identify himself.

But he’d never called her before.

“Is Hav okay?”

That got Nolan’s attention. He dropped the game to his lap and watched her, his brows drawn tightly together.

“He’s not hurt.”

She looked at Nolan and nodded, and he mouthed
Phew
. She nodded at that, too, and smiled.

“So what’s up, Len?”

“We need you here, doll. Hav’s not hurt, but his sister is…she’s dead. He’s havin’ some trouble. Maybe needs you.”

She thought of Sophie. She hadn’t had a chance to get to know her much, but she was sweet and Havoc loved her deeply. And she was young. Too young. Cory opened her mouth to ask what happened, but she was standing next to Nolan, and she decided that it was better to get to Havoc and let Nolan think everything was okay, at least for now. “Okay, Len, I’m on my way.”

“Good girl. We’re all here.”

She hung up and put a smile on for Nolan. “Havoc needs me to run an errand for him, so I’m going to head out early tonight. That okay?”

Nolan shrugged. “Sure. No problem. Everything okay?”

“Sure, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, okay?” She brushed his curls from his forehead and kissed him. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

~oOo~

When she entered the clubhouse, all the Horde were there, but no one else. No girls, none of the other people that Havoc called ‘hangarounds,’ just the Horde and the Prospects, all sitting at the bar, or on the couches, all with drinks, all quiet. Everybody but Havoc.

The room wasn’t quiet, however. The air was full of echoing, loud yet oddly muffled crashes, grunts and roars.

Isaac stood from his place at the bar and came over to her. “Hey, sweetheart. I think you should stay up here with us. Let him work out what he needs to work out.” He took her arm. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.”

But she couldn’t just sit here with the Horde, having a drink and listening to Havoc melting down, alone with his grief. She pulled her arm, and Isaac let it go. “Len said he needed me. I want to go back.”

“He’s torn up, Cory. I don’t know you’re safe back there.”

“He won’t hurt me.” He loved her. He tried to protect her whether she needed it or not. “He needs me.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed, and he considered her. Then, with a curt nod, he said, “Okay. I’ll take you back.” He took her arm again and led her through the Hall and down a long, dim hallway. The sounds of violent struggle—Havoc against something heavy and metal—grew as they approached a set of double doors. Isaac moved to push them open, but Cory pulled on him to stop him.

“Wait. I want to go in on my own.”

“Cory…”

“You can stay here, if you’re so worried. But he doesn’t need an audience.”

“I’m not an audience, sweetheart. I’m his brother. His President.”

She squared her shoulders and looked up at him. “And I’m his old lady.” She’d never said those words before—neither had Havoc, in fact. But somehow, she knew they were true, and she knew he would agree.

He gave her a sad smile. “Yeah. And that’s pretty much a fuckin’ miracle. You tamed the beast once, so okay. I’ll wait out here. You be careful, though. Go slow. Never seen him like this before.”

She nodded, and Isaac pushed one of the doors open and held it as she walked through.

Havoc was standing in the middle of the huge room, which was dark but for a row of lights over a long workbench and another light over an exterior door. There were three wide overhead doors, all closed. This looked like some kind of garage. There were what she assumed to be bikes in various stage of completeness, four of them, lined up near the workbench.

On the floor at Havoc’s feet was another—or it had been another. Now it was a pile of crumpled metal, a pool of fluids oozing out from beneath. The room reeked of gasoline and motor oil. There were chunks and shards of metal flying around the room as Havoc swung a huge sledgehammer down into the pile, over and over again. He was running sweat and beet red. With every downward swing, he roared—his voice had gone rough, and Cory could tell that soon it would leave him entirely. But he was showing no indication that he was ready to stop or even slow.

She stepped toward him, her eyes on the sledge, trying to give wide radius to the swinging head. A piece of metal hit her arm, leaving a stinging scratch, but it hadn’t broken the skin. Still, she tried to keep an eye out for debris, too.

“Hav.” Her voice failed her, so she coughed a little and tried again. “Hav.”

No response. She came closer and spoke more loudly. “Havoc.”

He stopped as he was bringing the hammer to his shoulder again. Without turning he growled, “Get out of here.”

“I heard. I’m so sorry. I’m here.” Taking advantage of his stillness, she took two steps toward him. She felt like she was approaching a wild animal.

He turned his head then, glaring at her over his shoulder. His eyes were wild and black, and his face was bloody from several scratches and cuts, probably from flying pieces of metal. Blood and sweat had run together to turn his face into a red mask of pain, dripping into his beard.

“Get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away from me. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you at all.” He turned away.

That hurt; it slashed at her like talons at her heart, but she disregarded the pain and the words as lies his grief was telling. She persevered. He was not moving, so she took the steps left to bring her to him.

“I’m not leaving you, Hav. I love you. I’m here for you. I’m with you.” She put her hand on his upper arm, hot and slick with sweat, the muscles bulging from his exertions. He was still holding the sledgehammer, cocked for his next blow to the dead motorcycle on the floor in front of them.

“I said LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” He spun on her, and she had time to see the hammer coming, but no time to get out of its way.

~oOo~

Cory woke in a hospital room. She knew where she was before she’d opened her eyes. The smell. For a split second, she thought she’d dozed off in Nolan’s room, but no, she hadn’t. As she opened her eyes and her vision cleared, she realized where she was—the ER, she guessed. She could tell because she was on a gurney and the room was very small and utilitarian, no thought of anyone spending an extended amount of time in it.

She thought she was alone at first, and she didn’t know why she was there at all. Her head hurt horribly, like the worst migraine ever. Too much pain to bother with trying to figure things out. She let her eyes close, but as they did, she realized she wasn’t alone. She forced her eyes open again to see. A nurse. She tried to talk, but her mouth was dry.

The nurse turned and smiled. “Well, hello again. Are you with us for real this time? That’s good. Real good. I’ll let the doctor know. We’re about to take you down for some tests, too. Just waiting on some blood work results first.” She patted Cory’s arm. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” she croaked.

“Sorry, hon. No water until after the tests. The IV is keeping you hydrated, though, don’t you worry.”

“Water.” Her throat was suddenly killing her.

The nurse sighed. “Maybe some ice chips. I’ll be right back.”

Cory was asleep before anyone came back. As she drifted back into darkness, she wondered where Havoc was. Did he know she was here? Why was she here?

~oOo~

When she awoke again, she was in another room, but still an ER room. There was a woman in business dress talking quietly with a young female doctor. Not the one who’d helped Nolan. The woman in business dress had a clipboard. Cory’s first clear thought was that people carrying clipboards were rarely bringing anything good to a situation.

The doctor looked over and saw that she was awake. “Corinne. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts. Thirsty.”

“I bet. We’ll get you something to drink right away. I need to talk to you first. And then Kathy here would like to talk to you, too. I’m Dr. Callahan.”

“What happened? Why am I here?”

The women looked at each other. Dr. Callahan asked, “What do you remember?”

She tried to think, but it was a fog. “I was here, with Nolan. My son—my son is here, I think. Is this County?”

“Yes. Your son is here. I don’t think he’s been notified yet, though. Would you like him to be?”

All that would do would be to worry him. “No.”

“Corinne, I’d like you to listen to what I tell you and let me know if it jogs any memories, okay?”

She nodded, but that hurt. “Yeah.”

“You were brought in tonight by several men. They were wearing leather vests. They are known to be potentially dangerous. You were unconscious. They asserted that your injury was from a fall. Does any of this sound familiar?”

“I know the men. They’re not dangerous. I don’t remember falling. Or hurting myself at all.”

“Well, you certainly did. You have a concussion and a very probable skull fracture. The fracture appears linear, and that’s good, as skull fractures go. If you’re quiet for a few weeks and careful, it should heal on its own. But you were unconscious for quite a while, and there were some tests we couldn’t perform. So we want to keep you for at least a day to make sure everything is good.”

“What tests?”

“X-ray and CT. Corinne, were you aware that you’re pregnant?”

“What? No. That’s not—no.”

“Yes. When was your last period?”

She laughed, and that hurt. “I don’t know. Can’t think.” If they thought she could work that out in her head right now, they were nuts. She’d never paid much attention to when it was time, anyway. Her cycle was such that she started with a super light day, just a little spotting, and that’s how she knew. So she didn’t bother tracking it. She wasn’t really a ‘details’ kind of person.

But she and Havoc always used a condom. She knew the way he’d been in the clubhouse, and she had already had one STD in her life, which was plenty, so she had no intention of ever going without one. Maybe if they got tested, she’d consider another form of birth control. But until then, a condom every single time, no matter how horny she was—

The kitchen floor. Almost a month ago now.

But that was the one and only time.

Jesus.

“Corinne, I’m going to get you something to drink and see if your room is ready. Kathy’s going to talk to you, ask you some questions. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dr. Callahan left, and Kathy the Clipboard Lady pulled up a rolling stool and sat down.

“I have some questions for you, Corinne. I want you to answer honestly. This room is a safe space. Understand?”

Her head was killing her. She was exhausted. She thought her throat might actually be cracking from dryness. And she wanted Havoc. She just wanted whatever was going on to be over. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Do you feel safe with the people in your home?”

And then it got through her pounding head what was going on. “Nobody hurt me.”

“Please, Corinne. Answer the questions I ask. Do you feel safe with the people in your home?”

Her heart began to pound with outrage, and that made her head hurt more. She took a breath to calm down. That made her throat hurt more. “Yes. I’m safe.”

“Have you felt controlled or forced to do something you don’t want to do by someone important to you?”

“This is crap. I told you.”

“I need you to answer these questions. They’re to help you. Please.”