Page 39 of Chaos Kills

Not only is it foreign and leaves a weird aftertaste in my mouth, but I never pictured myself with a guy who doesn’t fucking talk.

At all.

However, said significant other has already slid my beer bottle off the countertop and holds it over the edge, ready to to break and use it as a weapon if need be.

Clever.

As fuck.

I can’t help the ghost of a smile that forms on my face as Levi halts in place. I’m honestly impressed with the fast thinking and that he had the mindset to not break the glass alerting my sisters to come running in here to see what all the commotion is about.

But it doesn’t mean I won’t use them as one.

“Ellie. Mae,” I call out loudly for them. “Levi is back home.”

Squeals of excitement answer as I hear the soft pitter-patter of shoes hitting the hardwood floors and acting like my little saviors.

Ozzy places the bottle back down before the girls get into the kitchen, and Levi is forced to acknowledge them before he can do anything else.

My so-called husband is a damn genius.

And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing for me or not, but right now, I can’t help but be slightly amused.

Giving me a barely noticeable bow of his head, Ozzy steps quietly behind Levi and out the front door while my best friend greets the girls.

He’s definitely not slow.

He may be too damn smart.

TEN

bay

I hitLevi’s blunt again and allow the THC to temporarily erase the memories of my sisters’ wails and devastated whimpers after we told them Dad is gone.

Each one slicing a new wound into my heart, and it was nothing short of devastating.

Neither of them would go to bed, so melatonin was Levi’s secret weapon to get them both to pass out on the couch while we sat in the empty garage with the door open.

Rain pours outside, dampening the mood just a tad more.

However, it’s becoming a second thought through my high as Levi reaches out to pluck the weed from my fingers.

“What do you think about leaving South Shore after we bury Roger?” My best friend’s comment baffles me into silence as I slowly glimpse over at him, repeating his words one more time to make sure I got them right. “We’d need to make a few runs and, possibly, a few races to tide us over for a while, but it might work.”

“You’re serious?”

His green eyes latch onto mine, and there’s no test. No teasing or anger. Just sheer exhaustion embedded in those crystal irises. “Yeah.”

“You have a Titan seat.”

His large shoulders heave dismissively. “So? Where has that gotten us?”

Nowhere.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, this whole war shit is for the birds. It’s done nothing but push us deeper—well, me, mostly—into this war, and what’s left?

Dad is gone, the girls are a wreck, and this place holds nothing but fucked-up memories of the past to torture us all with.

---