Page 91 of Havoc
“He’s never going to let this go.” My voice shakes, and I hate it.
Levi sits beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “He won’t have a choice.”
The words are a threat.
Not a threat—a promise.
Levi holds me tightly, and I don’t doubt that he means exactly that.
“We’re going to end this. The club is planning to go on the offensive.” Levi rubs my shoulder, and I have a feeling he’s telling me more than he should.
Maybe it’s his way of proving to me that I can trust him.
Trust.
I don’t have much of that left, but I believe he’s being honest with me.
Lifting my forehead from my knees, I meet his gaze. “I want to help.”
“I can’t risk you, Aimee.”
“You’re going to have to.” Determination fills my heart. “I’m a part of this whether you like it or not. There’s a reason you aren’t getting anywhere, and that’s because you’ve taken the one thing off the table that Titan wants.”
“You’re not an option.”
“I’m the only option.” I reach for his hand. “I’m not the girl you remember, Levi. The one who always needed protecting. We both know the quickest way to end this, and that’s to use me to draw Titan out and weaken him.”
“You want me to throw you at him like bait?” He shakes his head. “I’d risk myself before I’d risk you.”
“He doesn’t want you.”
“Well, he’s not getting you, Aimee. You’re not his.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” I spin to climb onto Levi’s lap, straddling him in the dirt.
My arms wrap his shoulders, but it’s not sexual. I need the comfort. The closeness.
I need him to hear me.
Levi has spent his whole life protecting those around him, but the only way he can do that right now is to let me help. Which is why I need to find a way to get to him.
“Do you remember my senior prom?” I brush his hair off his face. “I was supposed to go with Sam Lindenberg, the star quarterback. Class president. The guy every girl in school wanted to go with—”
“Is there a point to this, or are you going to sit on my lap and reminisce about your ex a little while longer?” His annoyance all these years later over an eighteen-year-old kid makes me laugh.
“He wasn’t an ex,” I correct him. “He didn’t even show up, remember? I called you crying because my prom date bailed.”
“Sam was a fucking idiot. He didn’t deserve you.”
“He didn’t.” I run my fingers over the stubble on Levi’s jaw. “But you hung up the phone and showed up on my porch twenty minutes later in a tux to take me yourself.”
“Your father hated that.”
“Yes, he did.” I smile, even as the reminder stings my heart. “But you showed up for me anyway. Pretending to be a complete gentleman for the night.”
“The guys would have given me such shit if they knew about that.”
“Havocin a tux.” I graze my fingers over his cut. “It was such a nice look.”
