Page 9 of Haven

Nine

Hades

Istretched, my bed empty as I went to pull in a certain pink-haired vixen. There shouldn’t have been a pang of sadness in my chest when all that was there was the faint impression of her body in the sheets. God, she belonged in my bed, curled against me. My pillow smelled like her—strawberry with the faintest hint of vanilla. I wanted to curl up around it and bask in her scent. Last night played in my head on a loop, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Most times, one-night stands were caused by alcohol and regret—but not with Rory. The moment she walked into the bar, the heavens opened up and the contradicting whisper of sinful things I wanted rushed through me, but there was more to Rory. So much more. There was no awkwardness, just confidence and now…absence.

I shook that thought from my mind. Rory was gorgeous, and I knew she had a story, but the only thing we had was last night. There was nothing more and nothing less.

Now I had to get ready to start my day. It was Saturday; time to see my father. He probably thought I was dead in a ditch somewhere since I hadn’t sent him a message, but sometimes I enjoyed making him writhe in his own paranoia. My fingers brushed against the sheets as I glimpsed a note on my dresser.

Thank you for a wild night. You have the hands of a goddess. Maybe I’ll see you in the future ;)

Part of me wished she'd left her number, but I was expecting too much from one night…one amazing fucking night. There was nothing more and nothing less even if her touch lingered on my skin. In the bathroom, I caught my reflection in the mirror, and that’s when I saw them—wine merlot marks scattered down my skin in intricate patterns, mapping out where Rory’s mouth explored. She left her mark on my stomach, creating a small heart on my hipbone, and she went feral on my breasts.

I’d also left something on her skin. I normally didn’t leave hickies or scratches, but last night was more than a one-night stand. It was the start of something I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know if she would be back at Tipsy Throttle, but I wanted to find her again. The very thought made me sound insane.

Shaking her from my mind, I stepped into the shower. If the cards had been right, I would see her again because that was one hell of a connection. At least for me it was. Rory might’ve just wanted one night, and I needed to stop this obsessive thought spiral. It wasn’t the first time I had a hookup, but it was the first hookup where I was fully sober. The one drink and shot I had barely made me tipsy.

Stepping out of the shower, I patted my skin dry before adding a few drops of jojoba and coconut oil to it. I had no plans other than visiting my father and catching up on paperwork. My phone vibrated, and I looked at the text from Debra Seymore. She was like a mom to me. She and my dad fucked from time to time, but neither of them wanted that commitment. Debra had kids my age who kept trying to get her out of Crestview, but she was pigheaded and wouldn’t do it.

DEBRA

Sugar bear, your daddy is doing something that’s gonna get him in trouble.

It was time to get back to reality. And it seemed like that started with knocking some sense into my father.

Dad’s clubhouse was a typical biker club with burly men and hotter-than-sin women. The clubhouse smelled like gasoline, cigarettes, and a mix of rum and whiskey with heavy metal playing on the speakers and half-naked women walking around the club.

“Hey, Hades!” Debra shouted from the bar.

“Hey, Mama D. What’s up?”

“You seeing your daddy?”

“Don’t call him Daddy when I know you call him Daddy. It’s Dad, Pops, or Axel James.” If he heard that last one, he knew I was pissed. “So where the fuck is Axel James?”

“Him and the ambassador of shrimp cocks are talkin’ in the war room.” I loved this woman. “They plannin’ something, and maybe you can convince him it’s a dumb idea.”

I gave her a soft smile before I started towards the war room. Being a Devil meant I got to listen in on plans. My dad trusted me enough to let me be by his side, though I didn’t have a technical club rank other than the president’s daughter. If any of his men called me that, I kicked them in the dick. I was his daughter, yes, but I was also my own person. Most of the Devils called me Doc, Hades, or some other term of endearment like sugar bug or hotshot.

I leaned on the door frame, listening to Luke talk to my father. “We take out the Vipers, we reign supreme on the east coast.” Luke was fucking insane. “All we need is to find a weakness.”

My father knew it was a death warrant if he attacked the Vipers. What was Luke’s game? “Bless your heart, you’re about as sharp as a marble.”

He glanced at me, his jaw tense. “Careful now, I don’t like mouthy women.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest. “Big talk for a little man who can’t even make a woman scream his name,” I jabbed back.

“Plenty of women scream my name.”

“Darlin’, you can’t make them scream in pleasure. Fear, maybe. I know what you do in the bedroom, and it’s insufficient.” He was pissed now.

My father stopped him from doing anything. “Haven, what are you doin’?”

“I wanna talk to you. Privately. Tell this dumbass to leave and please stop listenin’ to his opinion. It ain’t the gospel.”

“Why you little bit⁠—”