Page 113 of Undisputed Chaos
"This is your idea of subtle?" Isla teased, nudging my ribs as shetook in our ridiculous attempt at disguise.
"Angel, when you're built like a small building, subtlety went out the window years ago."
I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her against my side where she belonged.
"Besides, half the fun is watching people try to figure out if we're celebrities or serial killers."
"Why not both?" Sierra chimed in from Connor's other side, her voice bright with play.
The sound made Connor's lips twitch—the closest thing to a smile we mere mortals usually got from him in public.
Estelle laughed, purposely pulling Jax’s hood lower over his eyes. "You guys do love your dramatics."
These women. These perfect, fearless, absolutely batshit crazy women who looked at monsters like us and decided we were boyfriend material anyway.
The thought hit me square in the chest, the way it always did when I stopped to really look at what we had here.
Connor with his bee, protective and devoted in that quiet, lethal way of his. Jax with his star, all golden elegance and hidden fire.
And me—fuck, I finally had my own girl. My angel, who looked at the worst parts of me and somehow found something worth loving.
For months, I'd watched my brothers find their perfect matches while I collected broken pieces and called it fun.
Now Isla's hand fit in mine like it was carved specifically for that purpose, and her laugh made my chest tight with something I was still learning to call love instead of obsession.
Though with me, it was definitely both.
The ticket booth kid was probably sixteen, vibrating with nervous energy.
His eyes went wide when he saw us approaching, recognition clear as we got closer.
"Holy shit," he breathed, then immediately flushed red. "Imean—sorry, I—you're Adrian, right? And Connor? And Jax? Oh my God, my dad loves you guys."
I grinned, the expression probably looking more predatory than friendly in the carnival's flickering lights.
"Hope he's not planning on making it here. We're trying to have a quiet night."
The kid’s hands shook as he processed our tickets, his gaze darting between us and the girls with barely concealed awe.
I caught him staring a little too long at Isla and felt my smile sharpen.
"Eyes on the tickets, kiddo," I suggested pleasantly. "Safer that way."
Connor stepped forward, his presence alone enough to make the kid stumble backward. "Six," he rumbled, sliding cash across the counter and turning before the kid could count the change.
It was probably five hundred for three hundred bucks worth of tickets, but the gesture bought us the kid's eternal gratitude and absolute silence. Smart investment.
We moved through the gate, and I felt that familiar thrill of controlled chaos washing over me.
This was my element—noise and lights and barely contained madness.
The air smelled like popcorn and sea salt, with undertones of machinery oil and that particular scent of excitement that only came from crowds losing their inhibitions.
"Where to first?" Estelle asked, her eyes bright as she took in the rides and food around us.
"Food," Sierra declared immediately. "I want one of those giant funnel cakes.”
Connor's expression went soft, the way it always did when Sierra got excited about something. He wasgonefor her.
