Page 43 of Born Chaos

“You should get that,” I say as I sit back, wiping my tear-streaked face.

“Hello?” he answers, ignoring how I’ve soaked his shoulder.

“Can you meet me at the club?” I hear Sigrid on the other end.

“You’re supposed to stay at the safe house for another two days,” Roman points out.

“This is important,” she says, her tone firm. “Be there in twenty minutes.” And she hangs up.

“Let me come with you,” I say as Roman stands. I scramble to my feet. “I need to get out. I need to do something. Please.”

I know I’m desperate, pleading. And from the look on his face, it’s clear he doesn’t love the idea. But he doesn’t say a word until he pulls the burner back out and dials a number.

“Where is Sebastian right now?” he asks.

“Just walked into his penthouse five minutes ago,” someone replies.

“Thanks. Let me know if he leaves. The very second he leaves,” Roman orders and hangs up. “Let’s go.”

I actually smile, I’m so damn relieved. I scramble to grab my jacket and my shoes, and we head outside. Roman barks where he’s going to the one man who’s sitting at one of the computers. And then we’re out on the icy sidewalk, headed to the parking garage.

It feels good to be going somewhere, to be doing something, even if I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s only been two days that I’ve been hiding out at the church, but it’s felt eternally longer. As we pull out onto the street, I take a deep breath, feeling like the vice around my throat is loosening.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the club. Once upon a time, just seeing the ROMAN NIGHTS sign gave me serious anxiety, now I feel… different. It’s still complicated. But it’s no longer bad.

Roman parks, and together, we walk through the front doors.

There’s a full-on construction crew working in the lobby. And I stop in my tracks, taking in the damage.

Those snakeskin panels that were on the walls are scattered across the floor, shattered into tiny pieces. Every light fixture has been broken. The desk looks like an elephant jumped on it.

A curse slips past my lips.

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman says simply. He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me past it all, deeper into the club.

There isn’t even that much to destroy here in the lobby. What must Roman’s apartment look like?

“Roman, I—”

“I said don’t worry about it,” he cuts me off, looking back with this look that is both intense and comforting. “You don’t control that dickhead.”

I keep doing that. Taking on the blame for what Sebastian does. Acting like I have any control over him.

I have to stop doing that, but I’m not sure I know how.

We make the final turn before we enter the main area of the club. And there, standing at the bar, are Sigrid and Warren.

“Thor’s hammer, Juliet!” Sigrid says in a breathy voice. She launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing as tightly as she’s capable of as a human. “I am so thankful to see you.”

“You too,” I say with a grin, soaking in every bit of her love.

“Are you alright?” she asks as she backs up to look into my face.

“Not really,” I admit, forcing a smile. “But I’m not looking to draw any more attention. I’m safe, that’s all that matters.”

She nods in agreement, but she studies me, searching for any signs of damage, physical or emotional.

I know the scars are already forming. It’s an uncomfortable, familiar feeling.

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