Wreaking Havoc (Dead Presidents MC Book 2) by Harley Stone

Author:Harley Stone [Stone, Harley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-27T18:30:00+00:00

Havoc

JULIA WAS GHOSTING my phone calls. I let it slide for a few days, giving her time to come to grips with all the shit that had gone down during the wedding and after. But now, it was Wednesday evening and my patience had come to a screeching halt.

My day started with the same nightmare I’d had hundreds of times. I was back in Syria, staring into the hollow, accusatory eyes of a kid holding his mom. Only this time, his mom was a redhead with bright green eyes. Recognizing Julia, I raced to her side and ripped off my shirt, pressing it to her bullet wound to staunch the flow of blood. Julia grabbed my hand and whispered something. I couldn’t hear her, so I got closer. Then the kid—that little fucker—shot me.

Wide awake at three-thirty a.m. because I couldn’t get back to sleep after that shit, I tried to call Julia. She didn’t answer, of course, and I’d narrowly resisted the urge to drive over there and beat on her door until she either let me in or called the cops. But I did resist. Then, when I got to work, some broad called and asked for a tow. Got the address and vehicle information and she promised to meet me there for the hookup. When I arrived on site, the broad wasn’t there. As I waited for her to show, a man came out of the building and asked why I was casing his car. Like I was getting ready to steal the damn thing.

Turns out the spiteful bitch was trying to have her ex-boyfriend’s car towed because of a nasty breakup.

Made me wonder if I’d dodged a bullet with Julia. Maybe shit was better this way. But why did I feel so fucked up over it?

After work, I headed to the station, parked my bike, and pulled out my phone to find a text from Julia. Excited, I opened it.

‘Leave me alone.’

That was it.

How the hell did she go from ‘I had fun last night’ to ‘Leave me alone’? What the fuck had I done?

Nothing. How could I do anything when she wouldn’t even text or call me back?

It felt like she was playing me.

She’d promised no games, but nothing else made sense. I knew she was fucked up, but we’d made progress during and after the wedding and now… now I was beating my head against an invisible wall. Nothing was there. If she’d just answer one of my goddamn calls, I knew I could talk some sense into her. I needed to see her, but couldn’t bring myself to go there uninvited. Not while one big question kept assaulting my brain.

Had she gone back to the asshole?

The possibility made me want to punch something. Preferably a rich little pencil-dicked asshat named Wesley. Frustrated, I slammed my phone into my pocket and climbed off my bike. I needed advice, and there was only one person I trusted to give it to me.

The common area of the station had its usual Wednesday night crowd.

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