The Princess of Chaos

by Candice M. Wright

He pulls back before I can hump his leg, which is just as well because I remember I have the kiddo just behind us. I look behind me and see him watching us, making a face like he sucked on a lemon, which makes me burst out laughing.

  “You’ll understand one day, Conner, I promise,” Zero calls out to him as he steps up for a kiss of his own.

  He doesn't push his luck like Grim, probably trying not to make Conner feel any worse. When he steps back, I look to Viper, but he doesn't move. He just stares at me for so long I start to squirm.

  “Guys, can you get Conner some desert? We’ll be back in a minute,” he asks them without looking away from me. My palms start to get sweaty, feeling like something’s wrong.

  “Hey Conner, you want ice cream?” Zero asks. I look over at him to see if he is okay but his smile is an answer in itself.

  I wave goodbye as Viper leads me outside. I watch them interacting through the window and feel my heart and something much lower spasm. I want that. Little boys to look up to—

  “Oof.” A gasp of air rushes out of me as I find myself unceremoniously tossed over Viper’s shoulder. I’m so stunned I don’t even realize we’re moving until I find myself back in an upright position pressed up against the wall of some kind of office.

  “You want my babies?” It’s moments like this I ache to be able to hear his words, wanting so desperately to feel the cadence of his voice as it trembles over my skin leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  “Not right now but one day, of course,” I tell him, knowing that at twenty-two I still have plenty of time to have them.

  He swallows hard, looking at me, his next words stealing my breath.

  “You're free to leave, you know?” I stare at his mouth for a moment, thinking maybe I read that wrong but one look in his eye tells me I didn’t.

  “What?” I whisper, feeling like he just ripped my heart out of my chest. All the warmth his kiss infused inside me turns to ice.

  “I’m free to leave?” I question, shoving at his chest, wanting—no needing—him to put me down but he just tightens his hold on me.

  “Get your fucking hands off me. Was this all a game to you, huh? Make the Carnage bitch fall in love with you so you could toss me back to them as damaged goods?” I shove him again but he refuses to loosen his hold so I rear back and slap him.

  His body goes rigid but my anger is so acute everything but the fire inside me disappears.

  “Newsflash. I was already damaged goods long before you came along.”

  Finally, he moves but only to free one of his hands holding me up. He uses it to wrap around my neck and pin me to the wall.

  It doesn't hurt and despite everything, I know he won't lay a finger on me in anger. He just wants my attention.

  “You are not damaged goods,” he bites out, his face right in front of mine.

  “Fuck you. Let me go.”

  He ignores me because doesn’t he fucking always? I scream in frustration but he swallows it when his mouth presses against mine in a kiss that screams of possession. Not the actions of a man who wants to throw me away. He pulls back and squeezes my throat a little when I move to hit him again.

  “You love me?”

  I freeze in his arms, going back over the words I spewed in anger and shake my head. No, he doesn't get that from me. Not now.

  “Say it,” he commands but I refuse.

  “Fuck you,” I spit at him.

  “That how you wanna play it, baby, then so be it,” he answers, but I don't have any time to question his words because he slips his hand under my T-shirt, shoving the material up before pulling my breasts from the confines of my bra.

  Before I can protest further, he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, nibbling on it before swapping to the other. He walks me backward to a desk, sitting me on the edge of it before ripping my T-shirt over my head and resuming the task at hand, which I can only guess is to make me hate myself a little more as my body betrays my brain’s protests. I grip his hair and keep him in place, my hold on him harder than usual as my lust wars with my anger.

  Standing up he glares at me. “Say it.”

  “Kiss my ass,” I say with gritted teeth. He can’t make me do shit but when he pulls me up and spins me around, bending me over the desk, I realize maybe I was too quick to assume anything.

  He reaches around me and yanks open my jeans before pulling them and my underwear down to my ankles. I feel his lips on my ass for a second, letting me know that he thinks he’s funny by kissing my ass. His finger dips inside me, making me jolt, my humiliation complete when he finds me dripping. He grabs my hair in a ponytail and pulls, maneuvering me just enough that I can see his face over my shoulder. He uses his free hand to rub his cock, which I didn't even realize he had freed, over my slick folds.

  “You want me to fuck you?” he questions, hitting my clit with his cock as he keeps gliding backward and forward.“Then say it.”

  I don't speak but only because my resolve is cracking.

  “Fucking say it!” he commands.

  “I love you,” I sob as he thrusts inside me and glides in all the way to the hilt.

  He pauses once he is all the way in, a look of complete satisfaction on his face as he stares down at me. He leans forward and places a chaste kiss on my lips before pulling back again.

  “You want this?” he asks and I know that if I say no he’ll stop.

  “Fuck me,” I answer, which is all he wanted to hear.

  He lets go of my hair and grips my hips with both hands, fucking me with long deep strokes and filling me in the most delicious way but I don’t want it like this, my anger refusing to dissipate.

  “Harder,” I tell him and feel his thrusts get harder, ramming my hips into the desk with just enough force to leave bruises.

  “Harder,” I demand once again. His movements falter for a second before he resumes the pace he already set.

  “Harder,” I grit out, needing that edge of pain, my heart still feeling hurt by his words and angry at the weakness I showed by giving in.

  “Harder,” I say again but this time I feel my voice crack.

  He slows his movements. The brutal punishing fuck I wanted gets replaced with gentle touches and slow shallow thrusts that leave me panting and my body yearning for more. He reaches around and strums my clit while placing feather-light kisses along my spine.

  I don't want to give in, I want to order myself to get a grip, to tell him to stop, but I have no control over my actions as Viper expertly plays with my body the way he played with my heart.

  He doesn't speed up or slow down. He just continues sliding his cock in and out of me as if he has all the time in the world. In the end, it's impossible to fight. I gasp as an orgasm so intense rips through, it makes my legs buckle.

  I feel him spill himself inside me as the tears I had been holding at bay run unchecked down my face and onto the scarred wooden desk below. When he pulls free from my still trembling core, I don't bother to look at him before I bend down and yank my underwear and jeans up my legs even as I feel him leak out of me.

  I need to clean up but I need to get away from here first. Punching the Chaos Demon President in the face is a big no-no.

  I walk over and grab my T-shirt from the brown corduroy sofa it was tossed onto and slip it over my head, not bothering with the bra, which I shove into my back pocket.

  When I turn to leave, Viper has a big smug grin on his face until he catches sight of my tear-stained one. His smile dissolves only to be replaced with a look of utter horror.

  Chapter Twenty

  Viper

  “Megan,” I say her name softly as I reach for her. The sight of her tears is my undoing. “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

  She steps back before I can touch her and I watch as her faces blanks of all emotion. Something’s wrong—very, very wrong.

  “Megan, baby, talk to me.” I reach for her again, but her words stop me dead.

  “Why, so you can twist my words around to fit your own a
genda and use them against me too? No thanks.”

  “What?” My confusion is warring with my anger. What the fuck is she talking about? She just told me she loves me and now she’s acting like my touch repels her.

  “Are you happy now? Will you have someone deliver me or do you expect me to walk back in there with your cum running down my leg? I mean, I guess that’s the ultimate fuck you, right?” She swipes angrily as more tears spill over her cheeks in an unrelenting cascade.

  “You got this all wrong, Megan. I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of yours but whatever it is, it isn't right.”

  She shakes her head at me in disgust. “So, I’m free to go now, right? You got what you wanted?”

  I nod. I wanted her to tell me she loved me and she did.

  “Glad I could be of service then,” she replies caustically, heading for the door but I block her way.

  “Megan, what the fuck?” I’m at a loss here. I try to grab her, but she swerves violently out of my way, shocking us both.

  “Please, please just let me go. I can’t handle anymore. It’s enough Viper. You win.” I step aside and let her go to the door even though everything inside me tells me to make her stay. One more look at her tear-stained face and I swallow whatever I was going to say.

  “Goodbye, Viper. I hope it was worth it.” She turns and heads out, slamming the door closed behind her, leaving me in a state of shock and confusion.

  I sit in my chair and try to figure out what the fucking hell is going on. The anger takes root, so I yank the drawer to my desk open and grab the whiskey from the bottle and take a large swig. Swallowing it down, I realize it's not nearly enough to numb the growing sense of unease so I gulp another slug and another until over half a bottle is missing.

  When the door opens without a knock, I lift my head with a smirk plastered on my face betting its Megan ready to get down on her knees and apologize. I mean, nothing says I’m sorry for being a raving bitch than a little head. The scowl is soon back in place when I see it's Grim and Zero instead. They were chatting about something when they came in but stop when they get a look at my face. Zero looks around my office with a frown.

  “Where’s Megan and Conner?”

  “Who the fuck knows?” I wave my arm with the whiskey bottle in it, making it splash over the side of the bottle.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? We’ve been back to the apartment and nobody was there. We thought she had come back to find you after she picked up Conner over an hour ago,” Zero questions, eyeing the bottle. “What's going on?”

  “I have no fucking clue. One minute she was fine, the next she was crying and saying goodbye,” I manage to mutter through my alcohol-filled daze.

  “She was crying?” Grim yells, making me wince.

  I wave for him to shut up before he starts spouting off at me. I already have the beginnings of a headache forming and I could do without his bullshit on top of it. Grim doesn't give me a second glance before he storms out yelling, probably to find Megan to figure out what's going on. Yeah, well, good luck with that buddy.

  Zero sits in the chair opposite me and sighs. “What the fuck happened? I thought for sure you would have been bruising her hips not bruising her heart.”

  “Don’t get all philosophical on me, Zero. I’m not in the mood.” I take another swig before he reaches over and snatches the bottle from my hands and takes a huge swallow himself.

  “You know, between you and Grim, I’m going to have my work cut out for me as the fucking peacekeeper.”

  “Nobody fucking asked—”

  He glares at me. “Nobody needed to. Someone needs to step up and have Megan's back in this because you two have a habit of reacting to shit before thinking things through.”

  “Whatever, Zero,” I mutter, sounding like a sullen teenager, which pisses me off even more. I lean over the desk to snatch the bottle back. “Isn’t it better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission? We’re bikers for fuck sake.”

  He glares at me, his own anger rising. “And how many times, exactly, is she supposed to forgive us, huh? How many times are we going to hurt her before she decides we aren't worth it anymore?”

  I don’t say anything because despite my anger and confusion over everything, I know he’s right.

  “What happened?” he asks me calmly with zero condemnation in his voice.

  “Truthfully? I have no fucking clue. She mentioned having kids and a house—”

  “And you freaked out? I thought that's what you wanted?” he asks, confused.

  “It is what I want and I don’t freak out, asshole. I’m the president of an MC,” I feel the need to remind him. “I don’t freak out. Ever. I just wanted to make sure she was making this decision because she wanted to and not because we were forcing her to stay.”

  He snorts out a bark of laughter at that, making my head snap up to his. “Please. If she wanted out of here badly enough, she’d be gone. She has the means, the money, and the people behind her to make herself invisible.”

  “She wouldn't place her family in danger. It could be declared an act of war,” I point out.

  He rolls his eyes at me. “She knows we won't do jack shit to her family because she would never forgive us. Plus, I’m starting to suspect that she has a far more formidable circle of friends than we were led to believe. I think if we waged a war against Carnage, we wouldn't be the ones walking away victors.”

  “Wow, nice vote of confidence you have in the club there, Zero,” I spit, my pride hurt.

  “Oh, fuck off, Viper. We both know that until we can make sure all the traitors are dispatched, we will always be weaker because we can’t tell who is friend and who is foe. Now, stop stalling and tell me what the fuck happened.”

  “She let slip she loved us then refused to say it again. We ended up fucking over the desk where I eventually managed to get her to admit it again, then she had a meltdown and left.”

  “Did you hurt her?” His voice is sharp like a knife, making me stare and glare down at him.

  “No, I didn’t fucking hurt her.”

  He frowns up at me, confused again. “I get you can piss her off like nobody's business but that doesn't sound like Megan. What happened before that?”

  “Nothing. As I said, I wanted to make sure she was a hundred percent sure she wanted to commit to a life with us because she wanted it and not because we forced it on her, so I told her she was free to leave and—” Zero jumps from his seat with a look of disbelief on his face.

  “You told her she was free to leave!” he yells.

  “Yes! I want her to want to be here and clearly, she doesn't,” I add the last part with a grumble.

  “Yeah,” his voice takes on a hard-sarcastic edge, “and did you tell her that too or did you just tell her that she was free to leave?”

  Whatever he’s putting down I’m not picking up. I try to wade through the whiskey-glazed memories of that conversation and view it again. I picture myself saying those words and see what I didn’t process the first time around when I was so caught up in my own exuberance. Pain. Humiliation. Devastation.

  I open my eyes and stare at Zero in shock as the picture starts to make sense. Like the last couple of moves of a Rubik’s cube, everything begins to slot into place.

  “Fuck!” I pick the bottle off the desk and launch it at the wall, watching as it shatters and the remaining amber liquid drips to the ground.

  The door slams open to reveal Grim breathing heavy like he ran back here.

  “The apartment is still empty. She’s fucking gone,” he tells us, looking like he’s two minutes away from ripping this room apart. I’m suddenly stone-cold sober as the knowledge dawns on me that she's gone. I fucked up so bad she left.

  “No. No, fuck that. She isn't going anywhere. Call church. I want her found. She’s pissed, I get that, but she’s ours and she isn't going anywhere,” I say vehemently.

  He nods and disappears as I grab my phone off the desk and text
her number, mentally pleading with her to reply. When I hear a vibration, I look at Zero to see if she’s replying to him because she’s still pissed at me but he shakes his head.

  “It's not mine, man.” He walks over to the desk and bends down. There, under the chair, is Megan's phone.

  “Fuck, it must have fallen out when we were fucking. There goes plan B. Can’t track her if she doesn’t have it fucking with her.”

  “Jesus, fuck. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. Find the prospects and see if she has someone on her. She fucking knows better than to disappear without one of them watching her back.”

  “On it. I’ll see what I can find out and meet you in church.” I don't answer as I follow him out, heading back to our apartment to double-check. I find it empty like Grim said.

  “Where else could she go?” I muse to myself, thinking about where she has felt most comfortable since she got here. It would need to be somewhere quiet or she would have already been spotted.

  I look around at all the buildings, many of them apartments belonging to people Megan would never turn to for help—at least not yet. Plus, nobody is stupid enough to hide her and risk bringing down the wrath of their president upon themselves.

  That leaves the woods. They go on for miles in each direction, offering her a million places to hide but it will be getting dark soon and my girl is not stupid. Being stuck out there with no sight and no hearing is asking for trouble.

  A frisson of worry works its way through me. Even though I know she wouldn't take that risk, it doesn't stop me from imagining her out there hurt somewhere. Once it gets dark, nobody would find her. Hell, there isn't even another property around here except for… the cabin. Shit.

  I run over to my bike, not bothering to let the others know what’s going on because if I’m wrong, I don't want to divert them from looking for her.

  The prospect waves me through the gate as I make the ten-minute drive in four. I’ve barely stopped the bike before I’m off it and slamming my way indoors. I know as soon as I’m inside, it’s empty. It’s too quiet and none of Megan's subtle fragrance permeates the air. It just smells stale from being closed up and a thick layer of dust coats the table and countertops. I toss the place anyway, checking every space that could be big enough for her to hide, even though I know that's not her style anymore.