The Cruelest Chaos (Unsainted Book 3)

by KV Rose

  I don’t know what the right answer is here. I want to know where Sid is. I want to know what she told him; apparently, not much, if he’s asking me these questions. I want to see her and know she’s okay. I want to get Ella out of here. Every protective instinct in my body is on high alert and although I don’t like it, although I’ll need to work that shit out later, I can’t fight it right now.

  Something is wrong with Sid.

  And something is clearly very wrong with Lucifer.

  “Congratulations,” I grit out, not sounding congratulatory at all.

  He stares at me with a wicked smile on his face. One I’ve seen many, many times, but rarely ever had directed at me. “You happy?”

  “Are you?” I counter.

  “She doesn’t want it.” He still has that smile playing around his lips.

  “Oh?”

  “What do you think I should do about that?” The anger rolling off of him is nearly palpable, his blown pupils making him look deranged.

  “Well, if she doesn’t want it, there’s not much you can do about it.”

  He steps closer. His lips are nearly touching mine, our bodies nearly grazing one another. I wish I could see Ella’s face. I wish I could tell her to leave.

  “There’s always something I can do, when it comes to my fucking wife.”

  “This seems like a conversation you need to have with her,” I say softly. And this time, I take a step closer. My hand comes to the back of his head, forcing his forehead to mine, my fingers winding in his thick curls. “But if you dare think about hurting her, bro, I will slit your goddamn throat in your sleep and if she decides to keep your baby, I’ll help her raise it.”

  His body is coiled with tension. I see the vein in his neck throbbing.

  And then he puts his hands around my throat, squeezing hard. “If you think I’d ever fucking hurt my girl, then you don’t know me at all.” He drops his hands to my shoulders, his grip firm. “Leave my fucking family alone, Maverick. The next time she comes to your doorstep, you tell me, and you walk her right back here. Do you fucking get it?”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. And then I shove him against the wall, his head hitting the drywall with a thud. I grab his throat in one hand, the other pinning one arm against the wall.

  “Get yourself together.” My mouth is over his now, eyes boring into his. “My family has spent a long time apart thanks to your father, Lucifer. But you don’t call the shots on them. Not anymore.” I run my mouth over his, feel his lips against my own. “I fucking do.”

  He makes to bite down on my bottom lip, but I jerk my head away, squeezing his arm harder, fingers of my other hand digging into the side of his throat.

  “So if you think I’m going to back off, leave you and Sid alone, let you destroy this shit before it even begins, you’re more fucked in the head than I thought.” I press my nose against his. “She’s my sister. You’re my brother. Get rid of that fucking coke and start acting like it again.”

  I release him and take a step back.

  His arm falls to his side, and he leans back against the wall, panting, running his tongue over his lips.

  I turn away from him, throw my arm around Ella and press her to my side as I walk her down the hallway, toward the front door. I feel her body going rigid beside me.

  Before I open the door, I twist my head and call over my shoulder, “And while you’re at it, buy Sid a goddamn car.”

  I leave, slamming the door closed behind me, not at all sure I didn’t just fuck everything up.

  Ella moves away from me. I let her.

  “You almost kissed him,” she whispers a little breathlessly beside me as we stand on his porch, the grey day stretched out before us around our little cul-de-sac, these monstrous houses towering into the cloudy sky.

  No. I almost killed him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I don’t go home. Mom doesn’t call. For two days, we don’t leave Maverick’s house. Considering it’s got nearly as many rooms in it as a hotel, it’s not as if we’re missing out on anything.

  Maverick doesn’t talk about his brother again.

  I don’t talk about Shane.

  We keep our secrets bottled back up, as if letting them breathe was too risky. Too dangerous. Too…close.

  He doesn’t tell me about his back, and I don’t press it.

  He hurts me. I hurt him back. We get off. I feel myself falling, and I want to stop. I want to hate his luxury and his fancy cars and the fountain in his backyard, the manicured lawn even in the dead of winter. To hate that he orders food to the house like spending money is nothing. That he has a walk-in closet, four guest bedrooms, a bonus room and a basement I’ve yet to see.

  I want to hate him.

  I don’t.

  He’s funny, especially when he’s high. And he really likes to get high. He’s also sweet, and that surprises me most.

  And what surprises me even more is that I like when he’s nice just as much as I like when he’s mean.

  He’s smoking a joint on Saturday afternoon, his feet up on the coffee table in the living room, his arm around me as we watch some horror movie that’s more cheesy than funny.

  “We’re going out tonight,” he says, apropos of nothing.

  I tense. Turn to stare at him.

  He exhales, turning his head away from me. Then he meets my gaze and cocks an eyebrow. He looks sexy and dangerous when he does that, with his high cheekbones and those light eyes.

  Sexy and dangerous.

  Yeah. I guess he is that.

  “Lucifer?” he prods me, as if I would have forgotten. How can you forget a name like that? The boy with black hair and blue eyes. Also sexy. With all that coke on his coffee table and the threats he snarled to Maverick, probably also dangerous.

  Maverick didn’t say anything about him or Sid when we left. But I remember what he’d called him: His brother. He’d called Sid his sister.

  But Lucifer had said, You’d know all about fucking my wife.

  I don’t ask. I don’t know if I want to know.

  Now, I just nod slowly.

  “He’ll be there. Maybe.” He shrugs, twirls the joint in his fingers, looking down. “Ezra. My other…friends.”

  I swallow, look down at my hands clasped together on the blanket thrown across my bare legs. I don’t like going out. I like being in this bubble with him, as if we’re the only people in the world. As if I’m not throwing my life away by staying holed up here.

  “It’ll be low key,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking.

  “Why?”

  “Why will it be low key?” He sounds confused.

  I wring my hands, shake my head. I meant why am I going, but I don’t want to ask that. Instead, I offer up, “I’ll go home.”

  He grabs my chin in his hand and I meet his gaze. “No.”

  I have to go back there eventually. He knows it. I know it. My mother is probably scared enough of him and his threats that she’ll leave me alone for a while, but we both know I can’t just hole up here forever.

  Forever.

  He’s not a boy that does forever. I’m not a girl that deserves it. We don’t really know each other. It’s been about a month, and we’ve spent most of that time together, but forever? I can’t move in here, and besides that, he hasn’t asked me to.

  I’m nineteen. He’s twenty-four, with the world ahead of him. I still don’t know what he does for work. I pressed him, and he gave me some bullshit about working for himself.

  But he’s spent most of this week with me, on this couch. In his bed. Against the wall. In the shower.

  Sometimes he slips off into his office. Sometimes I peek inside, and he’s writing letters. I’ve caught him folding them up, stuffing them into plain white envelopes. I don’t know who he’s writing to or why.

  “Why do you want me to come?” I ask him quietly.

  He pulls me close, kisses my nose. “You wanna know the truth, kid?”

  I nod.
>
  “I don’t want to be alone.”

  The bar is nearly empty.

  I’m dressed in a tan corduroy skirt, black booties, and a long sleeve black shirt. Maverick picked it up for me at the mall. I didn’t want him to buy it, didn’t want him to buy anything for me, but then he reminded me his car is worth more than my house so… I let him pay.

  So far, it is low key, like he promised. He orders drinks at the bar, comes back and hands me a beer. I frown, glancing around the dim room. There’re a few pool tables, one occupied, and a couple of guys already at the bar.

  None of them look like cops but…I’m still underage.

  He seems to get why I’m not taking the drink and he leans in close, his lips against my ear. “No one is putting cuffs on you, baby. No one but me.”

  I feel warmth spool in my core at the same time I think about my mother. About the hunger. How she used to restrain me when she left the house, when I was a kid. How my stomach ached, and time passed so slowly. How I disappeared into my own head, and sometimes got stuck in there.

  My skin feels itchy and for a second, I think about running out of here. Getting fresh air. Maybe even walking home.

  This life isn’t for me.

  I don’t deserve it.

  “Drink up, Ella.” He straightens, bringing me back to the present.

  I take the beer, love the way it’s ice cold against my sweaty hands. I take a sip, glance around again, like someone might come card me at any second. No one does, so I take another gulp.

  Maverick smiles but doesn’t touch his own drink. He just holds it, almost like a prop. And then he looks over my head, and his smile falters.

  “Ah,” he says softly, “Lucifer is here.”

  I stiffen for a second, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t leave me. I down the rest of the beer just before I hear a girl’s voice behind me.

  “And who is this?”

  I turn, not expecting a girl. She’s shorter than me, petite with dark circles under her eyes. But even so, she’s pretty, with grey eyes and short, brown hair. She’s wearing what looks like a leather tank top, dark jeans.

  She offers me her hand.

  Maverick puts his arm around me, and she looks momentarily shocked, but she keeps the soft smile on her face. “This is Ella.” Maverick nods toward the girl. “Ella, this is Sid. Lucifer’s wife.”

  Lucifer is beside her in a leather jacket and dark jeans, the same skeleton bandana I’ve seen on Maverick around his neck. He nods toward me, his dark blue eyes locking with mine for a few seconds.

  He looks annoyed.

  I drop Sid’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” I murmur. I wonder if she knows, about the other night.

  She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and I see a scar on her palm. “You, too.”

  “Where are they?” Maverick asks Lucifer.

  Lucifer wraps an arm around Sid, tugging her back and pulling her close. She lets out a little laugh but glances down at her feet, like she’s uncomfortable. I’m still clutching the empty beer in my hand and Maverick takes it from me and replaces it with his full one, all without looking at me, still talking to Lucifer.

  “On the way.” He’s tall and lean just like Maverick, and the two of them together are a little overwhelming. They’re like gods in this bar, and I gulp down the beer in my hand to steel my nerves.

  A few minutes later, when the silence between me and Sid becomes strained and the tension between Lucifer and Maverick is getting thick enough to choke on, more people show up.

  I’m introduced to them in rapid succession, and I feel a little relieved when Atlas and Natalie come in, Natalie dressed in a flowery orange dress, her hair up in a braided bun on her head.

  She pulls both me and Sid into a hug, and Sid seems startled but then just as relieved as I am.

  I meet Cain, a big guy with light brown skin and dark eyes. His nose looks swollen, like he got punched in the face, but he seems nice enough. In the lights of the bar, I see Ezra has dark greenish eyes and his muscles are clearly visible in the grey sweater he’s wearing, his bicep flexing as he shakes my hand politely, as we officially meet. As if he didn’t have his hands on my…

  I refuse to think about it, even as a small smile plays on his lips.

  Neither Cain nor Ezra have girls with them, but it doesn’t take long for the girls that filter into the bar to start eyeing them.

  Natalie drags me and Sid over to a small table. She waves a waiter over and orders tequila shots for each of us.

  “Oh, no,” I say quickly, shaking my head. I’m two beers in and already feeling a little lightheaded. “I can’t do shots.” I can, but I don’t want to get arrested for drinking underage and downing tequila shots might get me just that.

  Sid smirks at me, her arms crossed, elbows on the table. She shoots her gaze to Maverick, who’s leaned against a pool table, his eyes on me as Ezra and Atlas are talking to him about something, all of them save for Maverick with drinks in their hands.

  “If you can handle him, you can take a shot of tequila.”

  Natalie laughs, pats the bun on her head with her hand. Then she starts clapping excitedly as our shots are delivered. She puts her hand on the waiter’s arm.

  “Keep an eye on us,” she whispers to him, waggling her brows. “Don’t let us run out of fun.”

  The waiter smiles down at us, and his eyes lock on mine. I hold my breath, thinking he’s going to card me. But he just grins wider and walks away, glancing back over his shoulder.

  “Oh, he is so into you!” Natalie squeals, pushing a shot toward me. “Just like Connor.” She picks up her shot, holds her lime.

  Sid shoves her shot toward me. “You need this more than I do,” she says with a small smile. And then, glancing at Natalie, she asks, “Connor?”

  I feel myself blushing. I don’t want to talk about The Ark. I don’t want to talk about my shitty mom or my social worker or my issues. I imagine neither of these girls have issues. They seem so…normal.

  But then again, Lucifer had coke on his table at eight in the morning. He’s married and he was watching Maverick finger me just the other night.

  Atlas has some part in this rich kid circle that can afford a place like the one we were at on New Year’s Eve. Maybe they’re all insane.

  “I um…” I trail off.

  “A friend of hers,” Natalie interjects, giving me a meaningful look. She leans in close to me and whisper-yells, “Be careful, though. Maverick doesn’t like to share.”

  Sid snorts, then points to the shots. “Come on. Let’s make this night enjoyable, shall we?”

  Natalie doesn’t need to be told twice. She downs her shot, then wipes the back of her hand over her mouth.

  I glance at Maverick.

  He’s still staring at me, his arms crossed, Lucifer now with him and the other boys, save for Cain, who I don’t see right now.

  “Take them, Ella, come on!” Natalie says, pounding her palms on the table.

  Sid says nothing, but when I tear my gaze from Maverick, she’s watching me.

  I down the shots, one after another.

  They burn all the way down and deep in my belly, warming me.

  Natalie reaches around to hug me which is awkward but I kind of like it. It’s a real hug, and although I don’t think taking two shots of tequila warrants that kind of embrace, I’m not complaining.

  “Come dance with me,” Natalie whines, suddenly standing up and yanking on my arm.

  Oh God. “N-no,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t really like to—”

  “Oh, come on, Ella,” Natalie chides me, still tugging on my arm. “Let go, remember? Didn’t Marnie tell you that?” She rolls her eyes, blows a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ve heard her say it so much I dream about it.”

  She gives my arm another violent tug, and then Sid stands to her feet, too, looking suddenly annoyed.

  I glance over at Maverick again. Him and Lucifer are head-to-head, Maverick pointing in his face, and Ez
ra and Atlas looking tense beside them.

  “Fuck it,” Sid mutters. “Let’s dance.”

  I let Natalie pull me to my feet.

  Before we can head to the few people dancing to Lock It Up by Eminem, in ways that actually make me feel a little embarrassed for them, the waiter returns, bearing three more shots of tequila on a serving tray.

  He winks at me. “Before you make everyone in here start drooling?”

  Natalie nudges me, and she’s the first to take her shot. Sid glances at me. “Go on,” she urges me, then walks away without a word.

  “I-I can’t have four shots of teq—"

  “Come on, Ella, let’s go!” Natalie presses me, giddy with excitement.

  I’m going to regret this.

  The waiter is staring at me. The music gets louder, the lights dimmer. Maverick is still arguing with Lucifer.

  Fuck it.

  I take the shots and immediately regret it as my head spins.

  But I place the last glass carefully back on the tray and the waiter smirks at me. “Good girl,” he nearly whispers, but I can hear him and my face warms.

  Natalie dies laughing and drags me after Sid, the three of us threading our way through pool tables and other patrons. The bar has suddenly gotten crowded and it’s not feeling so low key anymore.

  By the time we get across the room, underneath the colored lights that make me feel a little like I’m about to have a seizure as they flicker with the music, I can’t see Maverick anymore, which is saying something. He’s taller than most people in this room, but it’s packed.

  Natalie starts grinding on me, and I feel a little panicky. A few girls are dancing beside us, and a couple is in front of me, the girl in a short red dress as she bounces her ass on the dude’s crotch.

  I close my eyes as Natalie’s fingers come to my waist.

  I don’t know what to do. How to move. I’m not a good dancer.

  Let go.

  I’ve never been to a club in my life. I’ve only been to bars with my mother, watched her try to take home grimy men that always had wandering eyes, usually on me.