One wish.
Millie.
It was always Millie.
Havoc reached behind himself and closed the door.
The latch clicked softly, but the sound seemed to fill the room.
He turned back toward me with the satisfied expression of a man who believed everything inside these walls belonged to him.
“Turn around, baby. I need to see your ass.”
For half a second, I imagined saying no.
Then I pictured Millie’s smile. I remembered standing in the road last Thursday while Havoc drove away without allowing me to see her. I remembered the helplessness that followed and how easily he could repeat it tomorrow.
I turned around.
My hands found the edge of the tattoo table as Havoc stepped behind me. He lifted my skirt and touched me with the casual entitlement of someone who believed cooperation and desire were
