I have to rub my dick a few times, trying to make it go down. It's fucking hard just thinking about fucking her, and I know it's gonna be that angry sex—the kind where you both lose control and take it out on each other. The kind where she bites my lip while raking her nails down my fucking back, so I squeeze herthroat and sink my teeth into her neck, biting her until my teeth marks are embedded in her skin and leave a bruise. Where I pull her hair and smack her ass while she's bouncing on my dick.
She'll hit me, and I'll slap her. She'll bite me, and I'll choke her. It's the kind of sex that's a brutal reminder the next day when our bodies are covered in bite marks and bruises, and regret will settle in, just for a second. It's the kind of sex that puts off having any important conversation, much like the one I know we're going to have. So I'm going to fuck her and hold nothing back. I'm gonna wear my mask but show her exactly what Raze can do, since she's only known what Havoc's given her—it's time she knew who Raze really is and how he really is. There's gonna be no more Havoc once she finds out it's been me all along.
Quietly I walk down the hall, my boots leaving muddy prints behind because of the rain, but I don't give a shit. When I come to her door, it's cracked, so I stand outside it, watching her, mesmerized by the sound of her voice and the way her eyes glimmer under the lights coming in through her window.
Fuck, I want her, and I want her all for myself. Hawk can fucking watch me fuck her; I know he'd like that shit. I push the door open slowly, a soft creak cutting through the haze of their conversation. Hawk’s back is to me, but I can see Whitney’s expression shift from a frown to surprise as she catches sight of me. Her eyes widen, a mix of apprehension and something deeper that I can’t quite place.
“What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice a tender lilt that sends heat pooling in my gut.
“Thought I might drop in,” I reply coolly, letting the mask obscure my expression.
My voice is gruff; it always is when I’m trying to hide how much her presence affects me. There’s a stillness in the room as she takes me in—my stature, the mask, the weight of the air charged with unsaid things.
“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be resting?” Hawk interjects, turning slightly.
"I'm fine, Hawk," I say, making sure to use his name so that Whitney realizes what's about to happen.
His eyes flit over to Whitney, reading the unspoken words between us as if he knows what’s simmering just beneath the surface. Because it's already happened between her and him, so he knows my time is next. I shrug, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind me with a soft thud. The darkness swallows me whole, accentuating the glint of my masked eyes as they fixate on Whitney again.
“Missed you.”
Her cheeks flush a rosy pink, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight. She used to be mine before we got tangled in this chaotic web of pain and betrayal. I’m more than ready to remind her of that.
“Can we talk?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“No.” It comes out harsher than I intended. Hawk shoots me a questioning look, but I cut him off before he can say anything. “I don’t want to talk right now. I want something else.”
I take a step closer, her gaze dropping to the ground and then back to me, unsure yet undeniably drawn in. I can feel the heat radiating off her body as if it's beckoning me further in.
“But—” she starts, and I can see the conflicted emotions playing across her features.
Hurt, confusion, desire. I crave all of it and want to drown her in a sea of what we once had before life tore us apart.
“Let’s skip the fucking bullshit.” I reach for her, curling my fingers around her wrist and pulling her toward me, close enough to feel her heartbeat pulsating beneath my palm. “We’ve put off this conversation long enough. We both know it needed to happen, but waiting for the right moment is pointless. You’restill being stalked by Dustin, and I need you to understand how dangerous that is. If he finds out we're back together..."
“Havoc—” she begins, but I lift my other hand to silence her, my finger pressing against her lips.
“Just listen. You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” And there's a ferocity in my words, a shot of pure determination igniting the air around us.
She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it hits me—the sheer weight of everything unspoken between us.
“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” She whispers, searching my eyes for the truth. “I thought you were gone for good.”
“I did what I had to do,” I reply, my voice low and raw, stripped of pretense. “But I’m not leaving again. Not without you.”
She looks at me, getting lost in the glowing eyes of my mask, and all of a sudden decides to punch me in the face. She gets a few hits in with no success because of the mask, but I still find it amusing, cute even. But enough is enough. I grab her wrists and yank them down, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me.
"You want to fucking hit me? You better be able to take it when I get you back."
Before she can respond, I let instinct take over. I push her against the wall, my body pressed to hers, forcing every doubt, every fear aside. I lift my mask and claim her mouth with mine, my heart pounding as if the world outside ceases to exist. Her body reacts instinctively, melting into me, her hands tangling in my hair as she kisses me back with a fervor that speaks to all the years we spent apart. It’s fucking electric, a jolt that sparks through every nerve ending, igniting that primal need I’ve been suffocating since we left California.
I sense Hawk’s eyes on us, a stalker to our display of passion so raw and reckless. But he doesn’t interrupt; he understands. This is between Whitney and me, our past colliding with the present, and I won't be reminded of our tangled lives until I'm ready to confront it fully. As I pull away, my breath mingling with hers, I see the confusion still dancing in her eyes. A corner of me nearly buckles under the weight of it, knowing she’s not just someone I want; she’s someone I need—someone I would fight a fucking war for.
“Havoc…” she breathes, her voice shaky.
“Keep your eyes on me.” I press my forehead against hers, locking her gaze with mine. “Don’t think about anything else. Not Dustin. Not the past. It's just us right now.”
I kiss her again, harder, pouring every repressed emotion into that single moment, as if each brush of my lips against hers can erase all the pain we’ve been through. The kiss deepens, a desperate promise forged in the flames of our traumatic history and a desire to reclaim what was lost. We pull apart briefly, both of us heaving for breath, her lips swollen and red, reflecting the undeniable truth—despite everything, we are still drawn to each other like moths to a flame. I’m ready to show her the beast that stirs beneath the mask and how fiercely it would battle to protect her and everything we could build together, vulnerabilities and all.
