Pandemonium (MC Sinners Next Generation #1)

by Bella Jewel

  At the very sound of that voice, my entire body goes stiff. I straighten my back and turn slowly, seeing a face I never wanted to see again in my life. I take a shaky, terrified breath and clutch my purse close, praying this is just a dream.

  When he steps closer, I know it isn’t.

  “You didn’t think I would just disappear, did you?”

  I stare at the man who shot Bethy, the man who ruined my life, the man who wants to destroy my father. I stare and a hard, thick lump forms in my throat as I see her face flash before my eyes as she begged for her life. He must see it, because he throws his head back and laughs. God. Evil. So incredibly evil.

  “Look at you; I can just about read your thoughts.” He chuckles. “Let me guess—you’re seeing her face? How does it feel? I mean, it looks like you’re doing just fine, but that couldn’t be true because you chose to end an innocent life. There is no possible way you could feel normal.”

  Pain stabs into my chest, and I slowly move my hand down to my phone in my bag. I’m not going to let this man take me—not again. I can’t. I won’t. My fingers curl around my phone and I carefully press the button on the screen to unlock it, praying it’s right. I pray that my finger is hovering over the #1 button that will dial Lucas. I pray.

  “What do you want from me?” I whisper, literally begging the gods that Lucas has been dialed and has answered the phone. I shift, hoping if by some small miracle my phone call has been answered, that Lucas can hear. “I did everything you wanted. Now leave me alone.”

  He barks a laugh. “You’re not doing everything I wanted. I wanted you to suffer, to break, to make your family hurt, and that isn’t happening. Look at you here—shopping, enjoying yourself like you didn’t do a horrible thing.”

  “Just leave me alone,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

  “Do I need to take you again? Do I need to make it hurt more? Do I need to make you fucking scream again?” he growls, leaning in close.

  “Just leave!” I scream, dropping my groceries and spinning to try and get into my car.

  He slams my body against it, crushing my face down onto the glass. I gasp and squirm, but he leans down close, growling, “Don’t you think you can forget. I won’t let you forget. I won’t let you get better. I’ll make it burn for the rest of your fuckin’ life. I’ll never let you sleep without seeing her face. Murderer.”

  I start to sob, pain ripping my chest apart.

  “Your father is going to pay in the worst possible way. Remember that.”

  With that, he lets me go. I crumple to my knees, sobbing and gasping for air. I close my eyes, and images of Bethy’s head exploding flash. I scream, clutching my hair and praying, just praying, that it will go away. All I wanted was for one single second of my life to be normal again. But it’ll never be normal. I’ll never be normal.

  I lift my purse and groceries, then push my body into the car.

  Completely forgetting that I dialed Lucas.

  ~*~*~*~

  I sink down into the bath, my eyes burning from crying, my chest heavy with pain and horror. The hot water washes over my skin, and I sink in farther. I keep sinking until my face goes under, the water completely surrounding me. I’m in control, and yet my body will start screaming for relief soon. I close my eyes and forget the pain for a second. I think about just staying down here, for a brief moment I let that come into my mind.

  Would it be easier?

  I don’t think it would be. He wants pain; he wants me to suffer; he wants me to destroy my family. Staying under this water, letting it take my life—that would be letting him win. That isn’t what I want. I don’t want him to win—hell, I don’t want to feel any of this anymore, but it seems nothing I do will relieve the desperate, broken part of me.

  My lungs start to burn and just as I’m about to go up, two hard hands curl around my arms, and I’m hauled out of the bath. I gasp and my eyes blur with water as it runs down my face. I’m confused, scared and grasping at a hard, panting body. It’s only when he speaks that I realize it’s Lucas that’s hauled me out of the bath and is now crushing me against his chest.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he says, his voice frantic and so pained it hurts. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Luca—”

  “It’s never bad enough for that. Never fucking bad enough for that.”

  Oh god.

  He thinks I was trying to kill myself.

  “Lucas—” I croak.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ give up, Ava. You’re better than this—stronger. You don’t ever give up. Do you hear me?” He’s yelling in my face now, hands on my shoulders, shaking my body. He’s frantic and terrified, so terrified his nostrils are flaring, his body is tense, and his eyes are wide and alarmed.

  “Lucas,” I beg, coughing as water hits my lungs.

  He leans down, launching my naked body into his arms and striding into my room. He sits on the bed, his arms around me, crushing me against his body. Tears burst forth and start running down my cheeks.

  “Never give up,” he whispers into my ear. “Don’t stop fighting, baby.”

  Baby.

  I start crying harder.

  “I won’t let you drown. Won’t fuckin’ let you suffer.”

  I clutch him now, not caring that I’m naked, not caring that he misread the situation, not caring about anything except the man with his arms around me, giving me a comfort I have never had.

  “Lucas,” I croak. “I wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . .”

  I can’t finish the sentence, because a part of me, a tiny part of me, wishes I could have just drifted into oblivion in that bath. That scares me so much I go stiff in his arms, and a horrendous pain tears through my body. Oh. God. Was I going to do it? Was I going to let the pain take my life? Was I going to let him win?

  “Don’t you ever,” he rasps, “ever fucking let me see you doing that again.”

  “H-h-h-he . . .” I stop speaking, closing my eyes, letting him rock me against his chest. Lucas is a cop, but I trust him. I trust him enough to let him in. To finally let someone in. “It’s my fault.”

  He stops rocking and whispers, “I don’t understand.”

  “The man that t-t-t-took me . . . the other girl that was there, the one he killed . . . it was my fault.”

  “You can trust me, kid,” he says into my ear, clutching me tighter.

  “He wanted to get back at my dad,” I admit, feeling a rush of something intense travel through my body—relief that I’ve finally said the words. “He took me and another girl. I don’t know who, I don’t know why, but it was a way to get back at the club. He said he wanted to send a message and to do that, I had to choose which one of us died.”

  Lucas goes still.

  I keep talking. “She was screaming. He kept shooting her, hitting her legs and demanding that I make a choice. I’ve never been so terrified in my life—never been so confused. I begged. I tried all I could to change it, but . . . I was so terrified, I screamed it before I knew what was happening. I said . . . oh God . . . Lucas, I said her.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just sits still, almost like he’s not even awake.

  “The second it left my lips, I said me. I said to take me, but . . . it was too late. He shot her. He just . . . shot her. It’s my fault she’s dead. I’m . . . I’m a . . .”

  “Don’t,” he says, his voice hard. “Don’t you dare say that word.”

  “That word is the truth.”

  He moves so quickly it throws me off guard. He flips my body, dropping me to my back on the mattress, then he comes down over me, his hard body falling flush against mine, his face coming down close. His eyes are intense and terrifying, so deep, deeper than I’ve ever seen them. “You are not anything but a girl who was taken, put in a position that no human in this fucking world could handle. Do you think you’re the only one who would have made that choice?”

  A tear leaks out. “I said her . . . in a moment of weakness and fear, I
said her, and because of that, an innocent person was killed.”

  “If it was her choice, you think she wouldn’t have said the same thing? Do you think anyone would have laid their own life down without a second thought?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “A hero . . .”

  “A hero comes in many forms.”

  “I killed someone.”

  “No. You were put in a position that gave you little choice.”

  “I should have said me.”

  “Do you really believe that would have changed the outcome?”

  I look away.

  “Look at me, Ava.”

  I don’t.

  “Ava,” he warns.

  I turn my face back to him.

  “You did not kill that girl.”

  “That’s your opinion,” I whisper. “I’m sure not everyone would think like that.”

  “You’re right, not everyone would, but I don’t give a fuck what everyone else thinks. I care only what you think.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, my voice sounding like a broken mewl. “I was just finishing work . . . I just . . . I . . .”

  “I know,” he says, his voice soft. “I know, kid.”

  “He wanted to hurt my dad.”

  “Then it’s your dad who should have paid the price, not you.”

  I look at him, and my eyes widen. “No, my dad is a good man.”

  “A good man who let you fall into the hands of a monster.”

  “Lucas, no . . .” I start to fight, trying to get out from underneath him. How dare he. How dare he blame my father?

  “Don’t fight me, Ava,” he barks. “Don’t deny what’s right in front of you. Club business got you into this mess, and the leader of that club is your father. I heard that phone call today; I was fuckin’ out of my mind with fear, but I heard what he wanted. He wanted to break you to make your father pay. So tell me, if it isn’t his fault you got taken, then whose was it?”

  I flinch and the cold, hard reality that issues with the club put me in this position hits me hard.

  “I had a daughter,” he whispers. “I had a daughter, and she was taken from me. I did everything I could to fight . . . but her death was not on my hands because I never would have allowed it to be.”

  “He loves me,” I say pitifully.

  “I know,” Lucas says, and he means it. I can hear it in his voice. “But this isn’t your pain to wear. It’s his, because it should have never happened in the first place.”

  “He didn’t mean . . . he would never hurt me. He . . . it would kill him to know what has happened to me.”

  “And you don’t think he needs to feel that kind of pain? You don’t think that maybe he needs something to change the way things are running in that club?”

  My jaw tightens. “I’m not doing this,” I rasp. “I’m not going to try and make you see you’re wrong about this, but you are . . . You don’t know him.”

  He goes quiet for what seems like hours.

  “My daughter drowned.”

  I jerk, and my head snaps to the side as my eyes find his again. “Lucas, I’m so . . . sorry . . .”

  He just found me in a bath, thinking I tried to drown myself. God, what kind of monster am I? How would that have felt for him to see in that water?

  “I couldn’t save her. I would have done anything, given my fuckin’ life, to save her . . . but I couldn’t.”

  I see his point.

  I see it, and I understand it.

  I reach up, and my fingers graze his jaw.

  “I saw you under that water tonight, and it all came back.”

  “Lucas, I’m so sorry. I didn’t kn—”

  “And I realized that I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he interrupts me.

  My eyes widen, and he pushes himself off me. He stands and looks down at me, his eyes travelling over my naked body. His body goes tense, but not with anger. “I can’t save you. I couldn’t save my daughter, and I couldn’t save . . .” He looks away. “I can’t save you.”

  “Lucas,” I whisper, pushing to my feet, not caring that I’m naked, not caring that he can see it. “I’m not asking you to save me.”

  “I can’t,” he says, his jaw tight. “I can’t heal you when I’m so fucking broken myself.”

  I step closer, reaching up and cupping his jaw. “I’m not asking you to heal me, either. I’m simply asking you to just be.”

  He looks to me and I push up on my tiptoes, throwing everything aside and pressing my lips to his. A long, still moment passes and I’m sure he’s going to push me away. His body is so stiff, his breathing so shallow, but then, like his soul just opens right up for me, he wraps his hand around my hip and hauls me against him.

  Then he’s kissing me.

  CHAPTER 25

  NOW – AVA

  Lucas’s tongue grazes my own, his lips parting mine as the kiss grows deeper. I press myself against him, clutching his shirt, breathing him in, tasting everything about him. He makes a throaty, deep sound and starts backing me towards the bed, his big body dominating mine, making me feel so tiny and yet so safe.

  I pull my mouth away from his as he slides a hand down, gripping my ass, hauling me up against him. “Shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs, his lips full, his eyes lusty, his arousal pressing against my stomach.

  “Maybe,” I whisper. “But we both know it’s a mutual want.”

  His eyes flash, and his hand curves around my bottom before giving a light squeeze. I know I should tell him I’m a virgin, but I’m terrified it’ll scare him off and right now, if he walks out on me, I don’t think I’ll cope. I need him more than I need my next breath, and I’ll do anything to make him stay. Anything I can. So I don’t open my mouth and tell him what he needs to know. Instead, I press my lips to his again and I kiss him.

  He lets me, slowly lowering my body to the bed. His mouth moves softly against mine, and his hand slides up my sides, roaming over my skin until he reaches my breast. He gently squeezes, rotating my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A little gasp leaves my lips and I arch up, spreading my legs, letting his body fall flush against mine.

  “I can feel how hot you are,” he growls against my mouth. “Even though my jeans, I can feel your pussy.”

  I shiver. No one has ever spoken to me like that before, and I love it. More than I ever could have imagined. I whimper and clutch him, my fingers going into his thick hair, tugging, wanting him closer even though he can’t possibly make it so. His hand slides down, gently falling between my legs. He leans back on his knees, gently nudging my thighs farther apart. His eyes fall on my exposed sex, and he makes a pleased sound deep in his chest.

  “You’re beautiful, Ava,” he says, his voice genuine. “So fucking beautiful.”

  My eyes meet his, and my cheeks heat, flushing with pleasure and shyness.

  “So are you,” I whisper.

  He looks down, not responding to that, and he reaches over and swipes his finger through my flesh, making a throaty sound when it comes up wet. “Yeah,” he rasps. “You’re ready for me, but I need to fucking taste you, so taste you I will.”

  Then he’s lowering his face towards my sex. I gasp and squirm, but he pins me down with his hands to my hips. His lips brush against my exposed clit and I gasp at the thrilling sensation that runs up my spine. When he closes his lips around me and sucks, I buck, my hips lifting off the bed. He slams them back down with his hands and works my pussy harder, his tongue swirling, his lips sucking, his mouth humming.

  “Oh god,” I cry out, my toes curling.

  I’ve never felt anything like it. I’ve imagined so many times what this might feel like. I’ve experimented with my own fingers, but nothing has ever come close to feeling this incredible. I moan deep in my throat, and my head falls back, my breasts swollen and nipples hard—my body on fire. Lucas sucks and works my clit until a flood of warmth builds low in my belly.

  “I think,” I groan. “I think . . . oh god . .
.”

  A tingly pleasure builds higher and higher until my fingers clutch the sheets beside me, and then I’m coming, exploding into his mouth with a cry and a gasp that sound loud even to my own ears. Lucas licks and sucks every last shudder from me, and then he’s moving up my body, his lips dragging over my skin until he reaches my throat, where he gently sucks as he takes hold of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

  Then he’s kneeling again, staring down at me, unbuckling his belt. I glance down at the hard, thick length straining against his jeans and I know . . . I know I should tell him, but I can’t. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to think I’m not ready for him.

  I’ve been waiting for him. For this moment. For the person I let in enough to take something I’ve held so close.

  My eyes stay on his hands as he jerks his jeans down, freeing his cock. It’s magnificent. Not too long, not too thick—just the perfect width and length. At least, it looks perfect to me.

  He curls his hand around it and strokes, making the tip turn a desperate shade of red, then he reaches into his jeans and pulls out a condom. I watch as he tears the foil with his teeth and then rolls it down his length. It’s yellow and odd looking, and it takes away the rather intriguing view of his dick. I’ve never seen one up close, but I’ve seen enough pictures to know what to expect. Even still, Lucas is impressive.

  He leans forward, dropping his hands onto the bed, and slowly moves over me. Butterflies stir in my stomach as I realize it’s about to happen—it’s really about to happen. He’s going to make love to me, to take my virginity and introduce me to a world I’ve so desperately wanted to enter with him. I reach up, cupping his jaw, and his eyes find mine as he nestles between my legs, his cock pressing right against my entrance.

  “You ready for this? Because once I start needing you, baby, I’m not goin’ to stop.”

  Needing me.

  He needs me?

  My heart flutters.

  “I don’t want you to stop.”

  His eyes warm, and he curls a hand around the side of my head as he slowly inches forward, pressing his cock to my entrance and pushing in just slightly. It doesn’t hurt so bad yet, so I take a deep breath and try to relax, stroking my fingers through his hair, brushing my lips against his. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, sliding in a little farther.