Page 25 of Haven

“No. Donate it to RAINN. Every last penny under an anonymous donation. Keep doing it every time he gets a deposit. He wants to hurt women, I’ll hurt his wallet.”

He typed on his computer with a satisfied grin. “Three thousand donated and a nice little 10k added to my bank account.” It was his normal paycheck.

“Now I need you to try and find someone for me. Her name is Rory, and that’s about all I have plus a picture I sent to you.”

He turned in his chair to face me. “Since when do you look for your hookups?”

“Just find her for me, please.”

Zade worked his magic. I wasn’t at the level of tech-savvy as he was, but I knew my way around a computer. While I did my pre-med work, I took a few classes in IT, but I was illiterate when it came to tech. It was why I had him jumpstart everything.

“Hades, you have the shittiest luck with women.” I smacked the back of his head. “Hey, I didn’t lie. You’re quite literally fucking with the enemy.”

“What do you mean?”

A picture of Rory came up from her Instagram page. She was a tattoo artist and owned a shop in Briarwood. Her most recent picture was of her and three other women in front of a club… fuck. “This is Aurora Vincent, sister of Ella ‘Cinder’ Bourgeois. Leader of the Vexxed Vipers in Briarwood.”

“Fuck me.”

“Seems like she already did.”

“Fuck you. Do you know anything about her?”

“Nope. Ella has some strong resources. There’s a file on her, but it’s sealed tighter than the White House.”

I wasn’t one to pry so I wouldn’t, but I would find her. If I went to Briarwood, I would break the treaty. I would sit on this for a few days, maybe even test my luck and go to Tipsy Throttle to see if she was there. If not, I would book a tattoo appointment like a creeper and meet her again through her work. Fuck a treaty.

Twenty-Two

Rory

Ieyed the little black dress. For a split second I considered wearing it, but my thighs were riddled with scars and this dress left little to the imagination. My tattoos covered most of them, but certain ones on my back and legs were harder to disguise, even though I tried my damndest.

Instead, I opted for my favorite leather pants that made my ass look heavenly, with lace-up sides that showed enough without accentuating the remnants of my past. I grabbed my distressed, DIYed Avenged Sevenfold tank. The top was one of my favorites, its bleach spots and grommet eyelets with chains in the front showing my cleavage. I took boob tape and secured the girls in place before pulling the shirt on.

It was Friday, which meant we had a party at Reject’s Paradise. I only scheduled two tattoos so I could have fun tonight. I loved the parties, mainly because I got to shake my ass in front of the women I wanted, and my sister couldn’t fault me for having fun. It was also one of the only times I got to see Babs.

I sprayed an unhealthy amount of hair product into my pink tresses and scrunched my wannabe curls. My makeup looked the same as always as I finished the thick wing and applied the false lashes. Depending on how the night went, I might sneak away and go back to Crestview, but it could raise the alarm going so early.

Fuck, I think I was in love.

No.

Love involved a lot of shit, and I couldn’t fall in love with someone after one night. Even though it might’ve been the best night of my life in a long time—it was just that.

One night.

My phone dinged from an Instagram notification. HeavenlyHades liked your post. The post in question was from three years ago. And then it hit me. Hades? I clicked her profile and my heart skipped a beat—figuratively of course, but goddamn. The woman who rocked my world and left an impression was stalking my Insta. How did she find me? It was my turn to stalk to see if I could find anything.

She was from Crestview, and rumors flew. I stopped at a picture of her and an older man. He was familiar. Axel Morningstar. Oh, shit. Damn, when I said the universe was cruel, I meant it figuratively, but now? Someone must have loathed my existence because there was no way I actually fucked the enemy. I fucked the daughter of the man my sister detested most in this world—and then caught feelings.

There was a knock on my bedroom door before it was pushed open, and a flash of bright blue hair danced through my peripheral. “Bitch!” Babs sang.

Too many months had passed since I last saw her. I jumped out of my gamer chair and tackled her to my bed, pulling her into a tight bear hug. Babs straddled my hips and kissed my cheek.

“Oh we're getting frisky?” I laughed, moving my hips and switching positions.

“I fucking missed you, Babs.” I toppled to the side, sitting cross-legged on my bed and letting Babs up.