Page 146 of Undisputed Chaos
"Hello, Noah," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm despite the rage burning in his green eyes. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."
Noah tried to speak, to plead, but Adrian twisted the knife, and he screamed instead. The sound echoed across the empty park like a wounded animal's cry.
"Did you really think you could take her?" Adrian asked, pulling the knife out with deliberate slowness before driving it into Noah's other shoulder. "Did you think I wouldn't find you?"
He didn't even glance in my direction as he reached down and lifted Noah by his throat, the muscles in his arm flexing as he dangled my ex-boyfriend off the ground with disturbing ease.
Noah's feet kicked uselessly in the air, his hands clawing at Adrian's iron grip.
Blood dripped from his wounds, spattering the grass below incrimson droplets. Each drop hit the ground with a sickening rhythm that matched my thundering heartbeat.
My eyes darted frantically around the scene, suddenly registering the rest of our surroundings.
Connor and Jax stood several yards away with Crew safely between them.
My brother's eyes were wide with shock as he stared at me, but he appeared unharmed, thank God.
The two men who had been holding him lay unmoving on the ground nearby, their stillness telling its own story of what Connor and Jax had done to them.
Connor's hand rested firmly on Crew's shoulder, keeping him in place despite my brother's obvious desire to run to me.
I turned back in horror as Adrian finally dropped Noah, stepping back as my ex crumpled to the ground, unconscious or too weak to move.
And then, Adrian looked to me.
His green eyes were dark and wild, devoid of the warmth and playfulness I'd grown accustomed to.
Blood—Noah's blood— was splattered on his shirt and face.
He looked like something feral, something untamed, something that wanted to rip the body in front of him to shreds.
I felt like prey.
Adrian stepped toward me slowly, his movements fluid and predatory as he stepped over Noah's crumpled form.
The knife still hung loosely in his grip, dripping red onto the grass, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face, from the stranger staring at me through Adrian's familiar features.
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—relief, possession, fierce and territorial. But underneath it all was a question:Why didn't you trust me?
"Angel," he growled, taking a step toward me, his bloody hand still gripping the bloodied knife.
I couldn't answer. Couldn't explain.
Couldn't do anything but react to the terror of seeing what I'd caused, what my silence had wrought.
My body reacted before my mind could process what was happening.
I turned.
And I ran.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Isla
Iran without direction or purpose, my sneakers pounding against the grass, my lungs burning as I sprinted toward the tree line.
All that mattered was putting distance between myself and the bloody scene behind me, between myself and what I'd witnessed Adrian become.
