Page 8 of Chaos Kills

Maybe he doesn’t speak English? Shit, maybe he’s fully deaf. Wouldn’t that be something?

“I’m not taking that,” I assert. “So, either tell me what it is or put it back.”

Ozzy takes one menacing step in my direction, and I counter it instantly.

“What?” I press nervously. I’m not sure what it is about him—maybe it’s not knowing him and that he’s related to Torin—but I’m highly freaking out right now.

Because I’m alone.

Everyone is literally gone.

Whatever is written on the paper in Ozzy’s hand is still held up, but he can go fuck himself right along with Emilio.

Another step backward, and both men in the room eyeball my reaction. If it wasn’t apparent already, I’m not doing okay with this. They caught me off-guard and, in my current headspace, I’m not well.

“Haven, he’s not going to hurt you.”

I. Will. Never. Listen. To. This. Man. Again.

Ever.

I pivot for the door, ignoring the substantial weight of the two men who just threw me a curveball. How I just became a man’s wife.

However, my breathing calms a little the moment I’m not in his view, soaking me up like a little ant he’s about to play with.

This is going to be fun.

Said menever.

THREE

torin

“Go ahead.Do exactly what your brother did.”

“I’m nothing like my brother, Wildfire. I’m worse. You’re addictive and beautiful. You’re so fucking raw and sinful that I’d go through hell just to know what it feels like to be inside you. You’re an addiction…a hard one to kick. I don’t know if I want to kill you or fuck you into next week.”

I flip another page of my book. Some slowly written mystery I plucked out of my library because I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping.

Every time I do, it’s one of two things: I see her, or I hearhim.

The combination of hate and obsession mixes inside me like oil and water. Neither one of them settling well.

Drinking her out of my head has backfired. I see nothing but her blazing blue eyes and am haunted by the sounds of her moaning in my ear.

I’m nothing short of addicted but in several capacities now.

I want to fuck her until I can’t feel anymore.

And I want to kill her because my brother decided to show up from the dead and haunt me in my dreams.

I don’t know what’s reality and what’s fiction anymore.

I’m unable to settle on what’s right and wrong and who’s lying and who’s not.

My intuition is off, and I can’t seem to fix the damn thing to point me in the direction of where I’m sitting and where I need to stand.

“I’m glad to see you’re still picking up books. It keeps that head sharp with creative ideas.”

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