Running on Empty (Havoc Motorcycle Club Book 3)

by SE Jakes

  “I’m counting on it.”

  When Linc, Rush, and Noah arrived at Bertha’s, the crowd was already in full swing. There was a DJ tonight and the dance floor was full.

  Noah grabbed another bottle of tequila from the bar and brought it over to the table where Vann was already planted. Linc didn’t bother to ask if he’d known about the escape, because the answer was undoubtedly yes.

  After several more shots and a couple of beers, Linc was feeling the happy buzz . . . and the hollowed-out feeling again. To combat it, he hit the dance floor, with Rush and Noah and was quickly joined by Vann.

  And Tug and Boomer.

  And Shaman, who turned out to be a cool guy and promised to teach him about the newest in sniper rifles.

  And then Jethro and Casey showed up and they danced too. Casey gave him a big hug, lifting him off his feet, but gently enough Linc didn’t feel it in his ribs.

  Sweet wasn’t there this time, which meant Bram wasn’t either.

  Of course, as usual, there was no sign of Mercy.

  Bathroom, Linc mouthed to Rush and threaded his way through the crowds on the dance floor, feeling Vann at his back. He was grateful, not angry, because if he thought about the way the bodies pressed his for too long, he’d panic.

  Finally, he found a pocket of space in the hallway by the bathrooms. There was a small line that moved quickly and Vann had left him alone at some point. Linc pissed, washed up, and headed out . . . and was stopped by a handsome guy, probably around his age. Maybe he’d even been military.

  “Hey, you’re Linc, right?” the guy said. “I’m Louie.”

  “Hey,” Linc said.

  “You hang out with Mercy sometimes, right?”

  “Yeah, sometimes.”

  “I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks. Can you pass him my number?”

  Linc frowned. “For what?”

  “C’mon, man—the same reason you were making out with him in the bar. He’s a good fuck. He likes to spread it around—he’s fucking insatiable. Am I right?”

  Linc felt numb at the truth of what Louie was saying. When he and Mercy started fucking, Mercy had been all over him, and to be fair, Linc had been the same. But three times a day was normal for them and Linc had a feeling it wouldn’t have waned if things had gone along as they’d been.

  But they didn’t.

  “He use his cuffs on you?” Louie continued. “We were here, so that didn’t happen but one of my buddies got the full treatment.”

  Instead of answering—because the answer would’ve been a resounding yes—Linc took the paper with the name and number on it. “I’ll pass the message along.”

  “Cool, thanks. It’s not like these guys settle down—that’s what makes it so good, right?” Louie winked.

  Rush was suddenly behind him, a hand on his back, and Linc figured he’d heard enough. The hand was part support and no doubt to stop him if he lunged for Louie. But Linc felt no such impulse.

  “So Mercy was fucking you?” Rush asked.

  “Yeah. A lot.”

  “And you felt it was important to tell him this why?” Rush demanded.

  “Why not? I wasn’t the only one here that he was fucking. Ask around—you’ll get all the truth you want. Besides, there’s enough Mercy to go around.” Louie smiled and headed off into the crowd.

  “Maybe he was just making it up. Wishful thinking,” Rush offered.

  “He wasn’t making it up,” Linc said dully. Because he knew firsthand just how insatiable Mercy was—and how much he liked being in control. Because the only way they’d know that for sure is if they’d been with him.

  It gave Linc a small measure of comfort to know that he’d been able to keep up with Mercy—barely—and that they’d spent so much time together that Mercy hadn’t had time for extracurricular activity.

  Louie had meant no harm, had no idea of the devastation that had begun the slow climb through Linc’s body and into his goddamned soul.

  But this was not the time or place to break apart. “I need more tequila.”

  “Good. Because the karaoke’s just about to start.”

  After another round of singing—during which he discovered that Casey sounded a lot like Barry White—Linc headed out the back door to the small alleyway along the side of the club. It was protected on both ends by bouncers, fenced in, and there were several couples out here already, in various stages of making out.

  He leaned against the brick wall, letting the air cool him. It wouldn’t sober him—he wouldn’t let it. Sober wasn’t something he wanted right now.

  The door opened and he felt someone approach. He assumed it would be Vann, but it wasn’t. It was Jethro, holding a wet towel.

  He offered it wordlessly, and when Linc nodded, he carefully wiped Linc’s face down. It felt so damned good—both the cool and the actual touch.

  Especially the touch. Linc closed his eyes and imagined it was Mercy. When he opened them, Jethro seemed like he knew what Linc was doing, but he didn’t seem upset about it. “How’re you doing, kid?”

  “‘Kid’? Seriously with that shit,” Linc muttered and Jethro smiled warmly at him. “I’m better. Much.”

  “Yeah, heard that before.” Jethro leaned against the wall, and Linc turned his head. “Heard you’re out of Castle’s place.”

  “Yep.”

  “Back on the job already?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Good. Too soon.”

  “To go back or to make decisions about going back?”

  “Both,” Jethro affirmed.

  Castle and Jethro went way back, just slightly longer than Linc and Castle did, and so Linc was one of the few outside of the MCs who knew who—what—Jethro was . . . which was undercover ATF and also a member of the Hangmen MC, formerly the Watchers MC, which had been Jethro’s father’s MC.

  The president of the Hangmen knew—Casey was a cool motherfucker who appreciated the inside knowledge without the law coming down on him. Jethro’s job was to take out MCs like Heathens and Project X, and so there was a lot of trust in him after three years.

  Jethro was a full member of the Hangmen—there were some things he didn’t participate in because of his job, but he’d told Linc that he loved being a part of something bigger, of that kind of brotherhood, and if it came between the MC and the ATF, he’d choose the MC, hands-down.

  “You’re not okay, are you?” Jethro ran a knuckle under Linc’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

  “Not even close, but I’m trying.”

  “Shouldn’t have to try. Shouldn’t be here alone.”

  “I’m not alone.”

  “If you’re not with the man who claimed you, you’re alone.” Jethro shook his head, and the knuckle moved, tracing its way down Linc’s neck, and then it became a fingertip, playing along Linc’s collarbone.

  It had been safe to flirt with Vann, and for Vann to flirt back . . . especially because right now, Mercy wasn’t all that safe for Linc and vice versa.

  But Jethro was the furthest thing from safe. Linc’s belly clenched, but it wasn’t in a bad way, like it had earlier. No, it was in that nice way, when flirting threatened to go a step further and suddenly? Linc was more than okay with that.

  And Jethro? He could push Linc harder than Vann could, because he wasn’t Havoc, and even though the clubs were friends, he didn’t have to follow their rules. That had been evidenced when Rush was running from Ryker and Casey tried his hardest to get into Rush’s pants.

  Linc cleared his throat. “You’re just doing it to piss Mercy off.”

  Jethro shook his head slowly. “That’s what you’re doing. I don’t give a fuck about Mercy. He’s not my club. Not your club either. The only reason I’m holding back? Is you.”

  Jethro’s eyes swept over him . . . and he didn’t look at Linc like he was broken.

  “Can you just kiss me?” Linc asked.

  “Comparison shopping?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I c
an tell you the outcome already, if it helps.” Jethro kissed him, a slow, heated, gorgeous fucking kiss that made Linc’s entire body heat . . . but it didn’t erase his longing for Mercy.

  If anything, it made it worse.

  Jethro brushed hair out of Linc’s eyes. “I figured.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not. I’m available to do it again and again, just to make sure. Maybe, one of these days, I won’t know the outcome.” He jerked his head toward the door. “We need to go back in.”

  “I’ll go first.”

  Jethro watched Linc disappear inside, with one lingering look over his shoulder. Jethro remained against the wall, but turned his head to stare across the alley. “It’s not like that, Vann.”

  “The only reason I haven’t shot out both your knees is because I know that.”

  “Yeah, you and what army?”

  Vann came forward and walked up to him. Jethro’s back was already to the wall and Vann pressed him there. “I don’t need an army, Jethro. Want me to show you?”

  Jethro stared into Vann’s dark eyes. “Are you pissed that I didn’t kiss you?”

  “You serious, bro? Because I got no interest in that.”

  “In kissing? Or kissing me?”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about who I kiss.”

  “Who do you kiss?” Jethro asked.

  “Why the third degree? You’re the one kissing someone else’s man.”

  Jethro shook his head slowly, staring at Vann. “Does he seem like someone else’s man to you?”

  “They’re going through shit. You’re interfering isn’t cool.”

  Jethro cocked a brow. “I’m not here to do what’s cool. I’m not Havoc.”

  “But you want to fuck Havoc.”

  “Right now? Yes.” Jethro let his gaze run up and down Vann’s body.

  “Right now I want to punch you.”

  “Fuck or fight? Same thing.” Jethro smiled and slid away toward the parking lot. Vann forced himself not to look over his shoulder when he walked back into Bertha’s.

  Linc sat at the table, nursing a beer and watching Rush dancing with a group of Havoc old ladies.

  Vann sat next to him and threw an arm around the back of Linc’s chair. “You fucked since what happened to you, babe?”

  Linc snorted, because that question? Hadn’t been expected. “Are you a sex therapist in your spare time?”

  “I could be.” Vann raised a brow. “I take it that’s a no.”

  Linc did his shot and Vann’s, then chased them with nearly an entire beer.

  “That’s a no, but you want to,” Vann amended with a smile. Linc was grateful he hadn’t brought up the Jethro kiss, even though he was completely sure that’s what sparked this conversation. “Hear you’re at Havoc now.”

  “Yeah, good news about being claimed travels fast,” Linc snarked. Vann put a palm around the back of his neck and it immediately centered him. How Vann knew he needed it was a whole other story.

  “I told you, it’s his right.”

  “What about mine?” He met Vann’s eyes.

  “I think that when someone’s not ready to make his own decisions, sometimes he’s got to let someone else do it for him.”

  Linc sighed. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

  “That’s the point.” Vann took up his own beer. “You can’t fuck around with an MC like Havoc and treat the men like toys.”

  “I didn’t— I wasn’t . . .” Linc sputtered.

  Vann sighed. “You’re lookin’ for attention . . . and you got it.”

  Fuck, he was in trouble. “Mercy was fucking around on me when I was being held captive,” he blurted out.

  If Vann was surprised, he didn’t let on. “The man thought you left him.”

  Great, so Vann was going to defend him. “Yes, him and everyone else.”

  Vann starred at him. “Did Mercy claim you before you left?”

  “He never said the words.”

  “But everyone knew you were with him?”

  “Yes, I guess. I thought it was about the bond.”

  Vann considered that. “Who told you about Mercy fucking around?”

  “Not Mercy.” He leaned back. “He’s with me out of obligation. That’s not helping me.”

  “I understand you—way more than you know,” Vann told him. “You decided to go out because Mercy said that you couldn’t.”

  Linc couldn’t argue with that, so he let it go. “What’s really going on with Havoc? Is everyone is really on high alert?”

  Vann looked troubled, took his arm off the back of Linc’s chair and leaned in close, his voice low. “Kill Devils are headed this way. They’re promising to patch in Heathens who swear their loyalty. And they’re bringing a white supremacist drug trade—meth and ecstasy—with them.”

  Linc took a breath, trying to stave off the panic he felt every time he heard the name Heathens. “It’s like the war—it never ends. New soldiers come in. It’s like sticking your hand in a bucket of water. You take it out, the water fills right back in.”

  Vann, who Linc suspected had been to war himself, maybe in more ways than one, nodded. “Mercy’s taking a more active role. His choice,” he added quickly. “I’m sure he’d tell you if . . .”

  “If I let him talk to me?” Linc shrugged. “How’d you get so wise?”

  Vann smiled, with no light behind it. “I lost someone.”

  “And there’s no one else who can fill the holes?”

  “Guess we both know it’s not easy.”

  It was Linc’s turn to throw an arm around the back of Vann’s chair protectively. “How about we take each other’s advice from here on out?”

  “You gonna play matchmaker, little boy?”

  Linc took no offense to the little boy part. “I think I might.”

  Sweet was in the clubhouse with Mercy when he got a call from Vann. As Mercy watched, he figured it wasn’t good news and assumed it had to do with Linc. And tequila.

  “What’s up?” Mercy asked. “Vann bringing him home?”

  “Rush is, eventually,” Sweet started. “Listen, if Linc was mine . . .”

  Fuck. “Something to say to me?”

  “More than you want to hear.” Sweet took a swig from his beer. “Linc’s trying to move on. He wants to do it with you, but if you don’t give him what he needs, he’s going other places.”

  “Is Vann one of those other places?”

  “He’s Havoc. He wouldn’t do that. But Jethro’s another story.”

  Mercy stared at him. “Jethro hit on him?”

  “Yeah, he did. He doesn’t have to follow our rules. He kissed Linc because you wouldn’t.”

  Mercy swallowed his anger—and it was a hard goddamned swallow. “He’s not ready.”

  “You know his body better than he does?”

  “If things happen too soon, he’ll—”

  “Freak? Rather have him freak with you right? Unless you’re done with him in that way. If yes, cut him loose. Because honestly, he’s acting like you already have. And obviously, people are making moves.”

  Fuck. He hadn’t heeded Vann’s warning from yesterday and now this? Linc having fun, yes, that was cool . . . and what Mercy had wanted for him. “All I can do is watch him and protect him, whether he wants it or not—and be there when he finally breaks through.”

  “So that includes letting other guys kiss him? Because I’m sure Jethro will be thrilled to keep pressing the issue, and next time, it might not stop at a kiss. And then what?”

  Mercy’s face hardened. “I betrayed Linc too. I fucked around while he was gone.”

  “So tit for tat?”

  “I won’t be his obligation,” Mercy said finally. His past fucked with him daily. And Linc only knew a portion of it—maybe the most horrible part of his history . . . the culmination of years of systematic abuse by the Heathens. “He blames me, Sweet . . . and he should.”

  “Did you ever tell him th
at being with a Havoc man could bring him trouble? That he needed to stick close to Havoc in general?”

  “I knew he was a free bird, that he couldn’t settle down.” And any time Linc had spent with him had been a beautiful goddamned thing. He treasured every memory.

  “Mercy, quit the guilt shit and take what you want. If that’s him, take him before it’s too late,” Sweet warned as he slid off the stool.

  Mercy stayed in the clubhouse for several more minutes . . . then he got up and punched the wall with the side of his fist—which still left a nice sized dent in the plaster—and he walked out of the clubhouse and got on his bike.

  He rode patrols most of the night, then once he’d settled down, went to go make sure Linc knew who he belonged to.

  But Linc wasn’t ready yet, as much as he wanted to be—as much as Mercy wanted him to be—and pushing him in that direction would be a mistake.

  He’d learned that a while ago. After helping Misha out of a similar situation. She’d made him understand that, just because her body felt ready, it didn’t mean her mind was. It was all wrong.

  No, Mercy needed to let Linc get back to being Linc, no matter how hard it was for Mercy to watch it happen, watch Linc flirt with danger, and Mercy needed to let him. Had to trust that the bond between them would strengthen as it healed.

  But just because he had to wait didn’t mean he was going to take chances. No, he was about to put safeguards in place.

  First, he called Jethro. “Touch him again and you’re dead.”

  Jethro laughed. “I don’t answer to you, fucker. But you’re the one not giving him what he needs. Don’t be surprised when other men offer.”

  “I know exactly what he needs.”

  “Yeah, he needs you, Mercy. So whatever you’re doing? Try not to fuck it up.” Jethro hung up, and Mercy decided he was going to beat the shit out of Jethro the next time he saw him.

  “Got the 411 on Havoc from Vann,” Linc said as Rush pushed his car past a death-defying speed on the run back toward Havoc. Vann and Tug were following, along with some other Havoc members charged with getting them home safely. Rush took that as a challenge to lose all of them and the merry race became a roller coaster on the highway home.