Page 10 of Havoc
“Go. We’ll be fine,” I say.
Reagan looks at Aimee, who rolls her eyes.
“I can handle myself.”
Those must be the magic words. Because although Reagan frowns, she doesn’t argue.
Legacy isn’t as easily convinced, his gaze landing on me.
“I’ll take good care of her.” I grin.
My comment earns me the middle finger from Legacy and a glare from Aimee. The latter of which makes me smirk.
“Tell Steel I’ll be back in a little bit,” I say to Legacy. “Aimee and I need to catch up.”
Legacy nods, but the silent warning in his eyes is clear. Reagan’s grown attached to Aimee, so he wants me to behave and not piss off his girl.
Reagan gives Aimee’s hand a final squeeze as she and Legacy leave. And then it’s just me and Aimee with our arms crossed over our chests, watching each other.
“Have fun in LA?” She smiles, but her tone makes it clear she doesn’t actually care if I did or not.
There’s no sweetness. Only violence.
Which is why I don’t bother answering her question, throwing her attitude back at her instead. “Have fun torturing my brothers in my absence?”
“I was perfectly pleasant.” She shrugs. “I don’t have any problems with them. You, on the other hand…” Aimee scans me from head to toe.
I lift off the wall, standing up taller so she has to crane her neck back to look up at me. A bead of sweat trickles down the center of her throat, and I really wish I didn’t want to lick it off. If I didn’t hate this girl so much for putting my heart through the wringer, I’d be tempted to bend her over and live out my teenage fantasies.
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Sorry to ruin your fun, but my brothers are busy, so you get me now.”
“Wonderful.” Aimee rolls her eyes, pushing past me.
I follow her into the house until we stop in the kitchen so she can get a glass of water. She takes a long drink, then grips the bottom of her T-shirt and uses it to wipe the sweat off her face, revealing her toned stomach.
She’s still painfully thin from being with the Iron Sinners, but for once, that’s not what has my attention. Her abs tense, and I notice a large scar sitting horizontally on her abdomen.
“What’s—”
“None of your business,” she cuts me off, taking another drink.
“That’s a big fucking scar, Aimee.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen worse being a big, bad biker.” Sarcasm drips from her tone.
She’s right. I have seen worse. I’ve watched Ghost slowly pull out a man’s intestines inch by inch. I’ve gutted, maimed, and killed so many men I stopped counting. But the thought of anything happening to Aimee that would cause a scar like that makes me sick to my stomach.
“Oh my god, stop doing that.” She huffs.
“Stop doing what?”
“Worrying about me. I don’t need you playing the knight in shining armor like you used to, Levi. I’m not the fragile rich girl you remember.”
“I never said you werejustsome fragile rich girl.” I run the pad of my thumb over the scar on my jaw. The one she gave me when I was teaching her basic self-defense back in the day. “From what I recall, you were always more than capable of taking care of yourself.”
“I can’t believe it scarred. I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“There was a good amount of blood.”
