The Princess of Chaos

by Candice M. Wright

  Chapter Two

  Zero

  “Did you manage to get ahold of Grim?” Viper asks, sipping his beer from beside me.

  “Nope, nothing. I was surprised he wasn’t still passed out when we got back. Something’s got to give with him because if he carries on, he’ll kill himself long before he ever finds his sister.”

  Viper sighs before finishing off his beer in three swigs.

  “It’s the not knowing that’s killing him. If she was dead, at least he could grieve and move on like with his mother. But I think he’s convinced himself she’s living in hell, waiting for her big brother to come save her.”

  “What do you think happened to her?” I ask, curiously. Kids go missing every day, but it's not as easy as you might think to disappear without a trace in this day and age, what with computers and facial recognition software. Especially fourteen-year-old girls who looked like she did. I’d never met her in person, but I’d seen the photos Grim had kept above his bunk when we were deployed. She looked like she had gone straight from a young girl to a pin-up model, bypassing the awkwardness of puberty most teenagers go through.

  The problem with that is there are many people out there that find the combination of beauty and innocence irresistible. Especially in young girls. And I can’t help but think that, with the kind of world we live in, that poor girl got chewed up and spat out like many others before her.

  “Honestly, it’s more than likely she’s dead in a ditch somewhere. With the resources that have been plowed into locating her, I find it too hard to believe she could have evaded us for so long unless it’s not us she’s hiding from.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figure too. So what are we going to do about Grim?”

  “We keep looking. We’ll search until we find the answers he needs regardless of what we think.” Viper slaps me on the back before standing and putting his fingers between his lips to whistle loudly. “Right, listen up. Normally I’d bring this up at church, but it was a spur of the moment decision that Zero and I made and you all need to be aware of it,” he tells them, looking at the club bunnies and old ladies to push his point home. Church is a meeting just for patched in officers. No prospects or women, and he’s right, this affects everyone.

  “We have brokered a tentative peace deal with the Kings of Carnage.”

  A few groans ring out from the room but nobody voices their grievances too loudly.

  “And we trust Joker to keep his word? I know he plays for both sides, but that doesn’t make the slick asshole worthy of trust.” The massive bald-headed rotund man we aptly named Shrek pipes in with a skeptical tone.

  “Joker’s dead and so is King. They have a new generation of leaders, Orion and Diesel, just like we do. It’s time to work on an alliance instead of a war, especially with the cartels trying to take over more territory,” I tell them firmly.

  “The question still stands though, Vipe. How can we guarantee they will keep their word?” Shrek replies, unconvinced.

  “They’ll keep it because I have their sister,” Viper tells them in a flat voice like he’s talking about the weather and not the feisty beauty tucked away in our cabin.

  “Fuck, yeah. Is she hot?” someone calls out from the back of the room, making me glare in that direction. If anyone touches her, I’ll snap their fucking fingers off.

  “She is off-limits. I mean it. If anyone fucks with her, they will have me to answer to. While Megan’s here, she is under my protection.”

  “Megan?” Rock asks, a flare of recognition in his eyes.

  “Megan Cooper. I’m sure some of you remember her,” Viper tells the room, which is now a lot louder than before. Interesting how the thought of calling a truce with a rival club causes less of a stir than one small slip of a girl.

  The faces in front of me frown with displeasure at the news of the returning princess. They are not pleased, yelling and complaining that this is a mistake.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Viper’s uncle warns him.

  “Well, Rock, I wasn’t asking for your permission, now, was I?”

  “You know...” I step up next to Viper, letting the room know exactly where my loyalties lie and where they always will. “It dumbfounds me how much hostility you all feel for a girl none of you have seen since she was sixteen,” I tell them pointedly, watching as a couple of the old ladies’ expressions take on a downright frosty look.

  “You were gone a long time, boys,” Rock adds quietly.

  “She has a traitor’s blood running through her veins. Can’t say it’s a surprise to find out she has Carnage in her too. We’ll never be able to trust her,” Fender adds with a disgruntled huff.

  “You act like you didn’t know Melly had sons with King before coming here. You would have known they were her brothers before she did, so don’t give me that. Regardless of how you all feel, Megan is here and she will remain so until I say differently. This isn’t open for debate. Understood?” It’s tense while I wait for people to nod their agreement. Not everyone’s happy, fuck, a blind man could see that but they’ll get over it.

  The club girls are the only ones who seem unfazed. At least they know their place. I admit, I’m surprised by their lack of response but I’m grateful for it. Megan is going to find it hard enough fitting back in here without club girls making it worse with their catty comments and unfounded claims on us because we’d fucked once or twice.

  Viper and I sit back at the bar but this time I get the prospect to pour us glasses of whiskey neat.

  “To truces,” I offer, holding up my glass to his.

  “To raven-haired beauties who have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into,” he adds before clinking his glass against mine and taking a sip of the amber liquid. I snort at that. It’s not like we gave her a choice.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you, Viper. Something tells me that she shouldn’t be underestimated.”

  He shrugs off my words as I take a sip of my own drink.

  “It makes no difference to me. She’ll bend, and then she’ll beg. The thought of all that silky hair spread out across the pillow as those big blue eyes of hers stare up at me in submission…” He groans and takes another sip.

  I laugh but shake my head. “I’m man enough to admit that I think that little vixen will have us on our knees long before we get her on hers.

  “We shall see, my friend. We shall see.”

  Chapter Three

  Megan

  It was the warm breath on the side of my neck that pulled me from my troubled sleep, finally clearing the fog enough for me to realize that I wasn’t still trapped in a nightmare. No, my nightmare has manifested and now the creeping claws of fear that tear into me nightly are groping my breast as a bearded face rubs the side of my face and neck.

  My body locks down, paralyzed by fear as my memories blur with my reality.

  When I was sixteen, Crogan – a patched member of Chaos – tried to rape me in my bed in the middle of the night. I’ve replayed the attack over and over in my head for years, wishing I had done things differently and planning out what I would do if I ever found myself in that kind of situation again.

  I swore I would fight and kick and bite and scream but instead, my body is frozen solid, my scream trapped in my throat, refusing to leave my lips.

  I can’t breathe, why can’t I breathe? I stare into the darkness as the large rough hand slides under my T-shirt and cups my bare breast before lips press firmly against mine. I can’t move. My terror so absolute, it’s like I’m floating above myself looking down. I’m trapped in a body that won’t respond as my mind begins to shut down, preparing itself for the inevitable.

  I can taste whiskey and smoke before the lips pull back and the man buries his head against my shoulder again. The hand cupping my breast goes still as the body covering most of mine goes heavy. My already shallow breathing grows slower as the weight of my attacker presses down upon me. When a fuzzy dark hue clouds everything an
d my eyes slip closed, I don’t fight it. I welcome the oblivion, part of me hoping that maybe this time I won’t wake up.

  There are hands-on my body, pulling, shaking. A slap on my face has my eyes snapping open. Viper is looking down at me with a look of concern on his face, but it barely registers as I fly off the bed and scramble into the corner, clipping my hip painfully on the bedside table. I make myself as small as I can and wrap my arms tightly around myself in a pathetic sense of self-preservation.

  Zero crouches down in front of me, making me whimper and pull back. He frowns and looks up at Viper, who looks livid. They speak to each other, but I’m too freaked out to concentrate on what they are saying. I tuck my head against my knees and wrap my shaking hands around my legs, rocking myself a little. My breath wheezes in and out as I desperately try to find some way, any way, to soothe myself. When a hand touches my arm, I don’t think, I react, lashing out and scoring lines down the side of Zero’s face with my nails. He falls back in shock but doesn’t get any closer. I lean my head on my knees again but keep my eyes on the room this time. I struggle to stay focused but at least nobody can sneak up and surprise me now.

  I don’t know how long I sit here. Physically, I’m here but mentally I’m a million miles away. Eventually, I become aware of another person in the room. I focus on the faded blue denim of their jeans and follow that up to a white T-shirt with an oil smear across the front, up over a broad chest to a neat silver beard and into familiar silvery blue eyes.

  Rock. The man who was the vice president when I was growing up and the only one who ever tried to show me any kindness. He was also the guy who got me out of this hellhole the first time around, even tracking me down years later to give me my inheritance, which enabled me to start up my shop.

  He bends down on his knees, looking remorseful before opening his arms wide.

  “Little Bird.” I see his lips forming the nickname the club gave me many years ago on account of me being quiet and flighty. I hated it then, and I hate it now, but it doesn’t stop me from throwing myself into his arms so forcefully, I almost make him lose his balance. I haven’t seen him in years but I still draw comfort from the familiarity of him.

  The tears I had valiantly tried to keep at bay slide down my cheeks, blazing a trail of shame and humiliation. Humiliation that again I was an easy target, and shame because I didn’t fight back. It's like the woman I grew up to be reverted back to the sixteen-year-old girl who just had her world shattered into a million pieces.

  He picks me up, carries me out to the living room, and sits on one of the sofas with me cradled in his lap. He smooths my hair back and places a kiss at my hairline. I know we aren’t alone. I can't see anyone else but I can sense them close by. I don’t look up or acknowledge them, not knowing which one of them decided that my body was theirs to play with.

  Eventually, when I’m all cried out and too weak to fight anymore, Rock turns us both so we are facing the others. Zero and Viper are next to each other on the sofa opposite us but there is another guy sitting on the very edge of the coffee table. His face is swollen and littered with bruises, and he has dried blood around his nose. He looks at me with anguish-filled eyes that I can't place, but know I’ve seen somewhere before.

  “My name’s Grim.” I don't answer him. He means nothing to me. “I’m sorry,” he tells me as I watch his lips move.

  I frown and burrow a little deeper into Rock’s shoulder, not really knowing what he is sorry for, unless—my body goes rigid even as Rock tries to soothe me by running his large hand up and down my back.

  “I didn’t expect to find you in my bed. I was drunk as fuck and thought you were a club whore; they’ve been known to sneak in occasionally,” he tells me solemnly.

  I lift my trembling hands and sign to him but he looks pained when I do. Shit, right, they don’t understand me. I look over at Viper and he seems to know what I want, disappearing and coming back with the notepad and paper I left in the kitchen yesterday.

  I write what I just signed, ignoring Rock’s body going solid beneath mine, needing to know the answer before I figure out my next move. I turn the notebook and hold it up for him to see.

  “What did you do to me when I passed out?” I watch his lips move as he reads my words. The horror in his eyes and the color bleeding from his face has me bracing for the worst, but I need to know what happened.

  “Nothing, I swear it.” He shakes his head frantically, making it hard for me to pick up the words, but he repeats them enough that I manage to catch them all.

  “I passed out too and woke up to these two pulling me off you,” he tells me. I look over to Zero who is watching me intently.

  He nods his head. “We came back and found him asleep on top of you. Both of you were wearing what you have on now. We pulled him off and I beat the shit out of him while Viper tried to wake you up. For a second there, we thought you were dead. What the fuck was that, Megan?”

  Is he mad at me? Seriously? I look away from his face, effectively blocking him out. I don’t want to be here. I want to run far, far away so that I never have to deal with Chaos again.

  Viper’s hand on my jaw has me cringing away from him, but he lets go and resumes his position next to Zero when he knows he has my attention.

  “Tell me what happened. Why did you react like that?” he asks again but I’m shaking my head before he finishes.

  He doesn’t need my story, it’s not his to have.

  “Tell me,” he orders.

  I try to write but my hands are still shaking so it's making everything ten times harder.

  Finally, I manage to write just one line but it’s enough to encompass how I feel.

  “You are not my president,” he reads the words when I flip the paper around for him to see.

  “Well, that’s your choice to make but your options are either you’re a guest or a prisoner so choose wisely.”

  Rock’s large hand covers mine before I can write anymore, catching my attention. I tip my head up to look at him.

  “Just tell him what happened,” he implores with a sad look on his face.

  I shake my head no but his face is set with steely determination.

  “Either you tell him or I will. If you are staying here, he needs to know the truth.” I don’t bother writing anything down. Nothing I say matters. They are just going to do and say what they want, they always do.

  “I’ll explain what I know and you can just fill in the blanks while you get yourself together?” I nod sharply, twisting a little so I can watch Rock speak more clearly as he spills my story. As much as I don’t want him to tell them, I’m going to make sure if he tells it, he tells it right.

  “You guys remember Crogan?” He asks. I flinch just watching his name fall from Rock’s lips.

  I spare a glance at the guys to see if they noticed and Zero’s frown tells me he didn’t miss a thing.

  “Yeah, slimy fucker and the oldest son of John’s old lady, Wanda. He was the one that Melinda shot, right?” Viper asks, staring at me as he tries to figure out what he is missing. I turn to Rock to see what he says next.

  “Do you know why she shot him?” Rock asks.

  I focus on Viper who looks at Zero before answering.

  “The only version we know is the Chaos Demons’ version. After hearing a little about what Melinda—your mother—went through from you and Luna, I’m inclined to believe it’s bullshit,” he tells me. I shrug my shoulders, faking indifference, having no idea what the bastardized version of the story is.

  “Let me start from the beginning. As you all know, John was my stepbrother. He came on the scene when Gettie and I were ten and he was eight.” Rock starts when I turn back to face him, enunciating his words clearly so I can understand him.

  I quickly scrawl on the notepad and wait for him to read it.

  “Who’s Gettie? You never met her?” he asks. I shake my head, thinking Gettie isn’t a common name so it’s unlikely.

  “Gettie is my twi
n sister and Viper’s mother,” he clarifies. “This used to be her place but she married someone new and now lives in Australia, of all places.

  I frown then, realizing something. They wait patiently as I write. I twist the paper and show it to Viper, who reads it out.

  “So John wasn’t really your uncle by blood, but by marriage. Like a step-uncle or something?”

  “Yeah, I mean, we never really made the distinction as kids, though. Both Rock and John were always just uncles to me.”

  I nod and wave for Rock to continue, for some reason feeling relieved that John's blood isn’t coursing through Viper’s veins. I have to hold back a snort at that. I have Joker’s running through mine. The former Kings of Carnage President was a traitor and an asshole to boot. I snap out of my thoughts and focus back on Rock’s mouth as he speaks.

  “Truth be told, I didn’t really like him then anymore as a kid than I did when he was an adult, but that is a story for a different day. John, Joker, and King were biker royalty. They were given the keys to open a club away from the mother chapter of Carnage way back in the day.

  “I was off fucking my way around the world and it suited me for a while before the urge to settle down snuck in. I came back, thinking of prospecting for Carnage as my father and John had before me, only to find that John had left Carnage and begun rounding up folks to make up a new club. He offered me a spot as the VP and I snatched it up, not once thinking about why I didn’t have to do any of the grunt work like the others. I sure as fuck wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. I should have fucking realized there would be strings attached. I ignored the shady shit. We’re an MC, it’s expected, right? But there was always something not quite right about John.