Page 152 of Undisputed Chaos
"Shh," Adrian soothed, stroking my hair. "Jax took him home. He's safe. Connor’s handling Noah."
Something dangerous flickered across his face at the mention of Noah's name, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"You don't need to worry about anything right now."
I wanted to ask what “handling” meant exactly, but I had a pretty good idea. He did stab him… twice… and then choked him…
The image of Adrian standing over Noah, knife in hand, blood spattered across his shirt, was still vivid in my mind. Yet I only nestled deeper into his protective warmth.
After a bit of peaceful silence, Adrian helped me sit up, looking down at my cardigan beneath us.
"This is ruined," he said with a small frown. "I can't put it back on you."
He began dusting grass from my skin, his large hands deft, tenderly removing every speck of forest debris from my body.
The care he took was worshipful, his eyes following his fingers' path across my skin.
"You got some scratches," he murmured, tracing a small red line on my thigh. “Should’ve been more careful with you."
"I'm fine," I assured him, though my body was beginning to register various aches and twinges I got while running. "Really."
Adrian's eyes darkened as he helped me fix my sundress, his fingers lingering on the ribbon at my throat.
"You shouldn't have left without me," he said quietly. “Especially without telling me where.”
The gentle rebuke made me wince. "I was worried about Crew. I wasn't thinking.”
"I know," he sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. "Just... don't do it again. Please. When I saw you with him—" His voice faltered, something I'd never heard before.
"I can't lose you, Isla. I was born into hate. You're the only love I've ever found.”
The vulnerability in his confession made my heart squeeze. I reached up to cup his face, feeling the slight tremor in his jaw.
"These tattoos," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he caught my hand and pressed it against his chest, "they're not just art. They're covering scars, burns, cuts, every mark monsters left on me before I was old enough to fight back."
My breath caught as the questions I never asked were answered.
The only tell was the darkness that lived behind his green eyes. No one would guess his truth with his warm outward personality.
"My…birthers,” he said, the word bitter on his tongue, "weren't parents at all. They were sadists who enjoyed breaking a child. Night after night, year after year, until something inside me snapped."
His eyes met mine, unflinching. "I killed them, Isla. When I was seventeen, I finally had enough, and I put them down like the rabid animals they were."
The confession was shocking, my eyes widening.
I stared up at him, but he was staring right back down at me, seemingly searching my face before continuing.
Still, I wasn’t scared of him. He’d hurt people who’d hurt him all his life. I gave him a small nod.
"Wade Easton found me sitting in a cell," Adrian continued, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone. "Facing a murder charge, half-feral, completely alone. He looked at me and asked if I wanted brothers. Real ones."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Connor was already there, quiet, steady, the anchor I needed. Jax was born in, obviously, the golden arrogance and reckless energy that completed our brotherhood.”
"They saved you," I whispered.
"They kept me sane," he offered. “Taught me how to channel the rage instead of letting it consume me. Wade showed me there were... productive ways to handle the darkness. Ways to protect what mattered without losing myself completely."
His eyes grew distant for a moment.
