Unveiling Chaos

by Allison,Jeannine

  Unveiling Chaos

  Jeannine Allison

  Unveiling Chaos

  Copyright © 2016 Jeannine Allison

  Edited By: Stephanie Parent

  Cover Design © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for a book review.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  For Jeff,

  Who fell and couldn’t get back up.

  You’re still a hero in my eyes.

  I stabbed him in the heart. Once. Twice. Three times. But nothing happened. My forehead bunched in determination as I quickly stabbed him four more times for good measure.

  Nada.

  “Do you think it’s working?” I whispered, lifting the needle up once more.

  “Why are we whispering?”

  “I don’t know. It just feels right, doesn’t it? It’s not every day I stab Caleb in the heart.” One. Two. Three. I frowned, and in the dim glow of the flashlight, I saw Alara roll her eyes just before she flicked the lights on. I shielded my own against the brightness.

  “Is that even a real voodoo doll?” she asked at a regular volume. Buzzkill.

  With a frustrated grunt, I tossed the poor imitation against my bedroom wall before lying back on the bed and twirling the needle between my fingers. “No. I didn’t want to risk it.” Caleb’s wandering dick wasn’t worth whatever karmic retribution might befall me for using a real voodoo doll.

  “Maybe I should stab him in the junk a couple of times,” I mused out loud, moving to retrieve the doll when Alara’s voice stopped me.

  “And how would you even know if this worked? What exactly is the protocol here?”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “I’d be able to feel it,” I responded as I dramatically placed my hand over my heart. I didn’t need to look to know Alara was rolling her eyes again. She did that a lot around me, ever since we’d become best friends fourteen years ago.

  “Is it at least helping you?” Alara’s skeptical voice cut through my thoughts. I shuffled around until I was facing her once more.

  “Helping me what?” I asked as I blew my overgrown front bangs out of my eyes.

  Her confusion seemed to match my own. “Feel better,” she said slowly, like it should be obvious. Sadness colored her voice and she wore a mask of pity. “Is it helping you feel better?”

  I frowned. It had been about a month and a half since Caleb and I broke up because he met someone else. But I was fine… and maybe that was the problem.

  I wasn’t reacting the way everyone thought I should. I knew what Alara was waiting for; she was waiting for the same thing that everyone else was. Hell, even I was waiting for it. For what I should have felt.

  The heartbreak.

  I knew I should have been heartbroken to discover that my boyfriend of five years had cheated on me. But the feeling never came. It lingered at the surface, but as much as I clawed at it, I could never quite grasp it.

  Even after reading every magazine article and pin on Pinterest about cheating exes and how I was supposed to cope with chocolate, chick flicks, and gossiping girlfriends, I had no interest in wallowing. I just wanted to focus on moving forward. And while I would have liked to think of myself as simply a more evolved woman, one who didn’t let love rule her life and was confident enough to realize that her worth wasn’t tied to where her boyfriend stuck his dick, I knew that wasn’t the reason I was feeling numb.

  I was indifferent simply because I wasn’t sure I’d ever really been in love with him. I loved him, of course, but apparently if I was able to be “open-minded about his dick-wandering ways and not outrightly hate his smug, stupid ass, I could never have been in love with the fucking asshole”—and that was a direct quote courtesy of my very insightful older brother, Derek. And colorful language aside… he was right.

  So, no, repeatedly stabbing a surrogate for Caleb wasn’t necessarily helping me feel better. But it sure as hell wasn’t hurting.

  I needed to keep myself busy, that was also key. I didn’t want to give myself time to think about all the reasons Caleb strayed to someone else. Because no matter how confident a girl was, I was sure if I gave it some thought, that shit would sting.

  “I should get a tattoo,” I announced suddenly, standing up and gazing down at Alara still perched on my bed.

  “Huh? A tattoo?” she asked as her face twisted in confusion at the lack of an answer and the abrupt change of topic.

  “Yeah.” I nodded while retrieving the voodoo doll and putting it away in my nightstand. When I looked back she was still wary, so I lifted my shoulders in a why not? gesture before bringing my hands together and rubbing them up and down enthusiastically. “Please?” I asked while giving her the most exaggerated pout I could.

  She shook her head as if to clear it before speaking. “Umm… you’ve never mentioned getting a tattoo before, and I don’t think permanently marking your skin is something that should be done on a whim.”

  I nodded as my eyes wandered to a spot on the wall behind her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d thought about it more than once over the past few years, that once I even came close to doing it. And I definitely didn’t want to tell her I let Caleb talk me out of it. She saw me as the tough one, the one with an unbendable will and who would indulge no one. She wouldn’t understand, and she’d probably be a little pissed. Quite frankly, it still pissed me off that I let him. But maybe, deep down, I had known I didn’t love him, and I’d felt guilty for essentially stringing him along. Maybe not getting a tattoo was my way of saying sorry, even if I hadn’t known it at the time. Maybe all the easy compromises I’d made were my variations of I’m sorry.

  “Maybe you could just get a piercing? It’d be adventurous, but not permanent,” Alara suggested, and when I looked back at her she was nodding and smiling proudly like it was a great solution. It kind of was. Because even though I wanted a tattoo, I still wasn’t positive what I wanted.

  “That sounds perfect.” I pulled out my laptop and started researching studios that accepted walk-ins, were close to our apartment, and of course, were reputable. “Inked 101 has good reviews.” It opened about a year ago on the main strip right off campus. Alara nodded as she stood up and stretched. Her long blonde hair was weaved into a loose braid that draped over her left shoulder. She played with the end as her green eyes bored into mine, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth like she was struggling with what to say.

  “Yeah, they always look pretty busy. What kind of piercing are you going to get?” my roommate asked, clearly abandoning her previous thought. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, relieved
she’d let it go.

  “Hmmm….” I opened a new tab and started browsing piercings while she went to grab a bottle of water. By the time she came back I had one picked out. Stabbing the computer with my index finger, I gave an excited squeal. “Rook, I’m definitely getting a rook.”

  Alara winced as she brought a hand to her ear and pinched the area where the piercing would go. “Damn, that’s gonna hurt.”

  “Nahhh… it’ll be fine.” I waved her off as I stood up and rooted through my dresser for one of my fitted university sweatshirts before throwing it on.

  “I don’t know… I know you think you’re bulletproof, but one of these days you’re gonna break.” She gave me a concerned look that told me this was about more than a simple piercing. I stepped forward and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, leading her toward the front door.

  “I’m fine,” I said, punctuating it with an eye roll. Alara snorted as we crossed the threshold.

  “Please, I invented that lie.” A sharp pang hit me in the chest whenever she brought up her depression and how good she’d been at hiding it. She side-eyed me as I disentangled myself from her and locked the door.

  “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. You don’t have to put on a front with me, you don’t have to bury what you’re feeling because—” She stopped and waited until I turned around to face her. When I did, she gave me a pointed look that told me to pay attention before she spoke again. “Because no matter who you are, and no matter how strong you are, there still has to be something a little soul crushing about not being enough for another person. Even if you didn’t love him.”

  “Alara,” I said resolutely. “I’m not burying anything. I really am fine. I promise.” I gave her the most earnest expression I could. This was veering into territory I really didn’t want to explore. Reluctantly, she nodded as we headed to the car. Our silence reined as we climbed in and I drove toward campus.

  I knew she was worried; everyone was. But I meant it when I said I was fine, and as long as I didn’t think about it, I’d stay that way. So I didn’t know why everyone was waiting for me to shatter.

  It was impossible.

  I hadn’t been broken since I was sixteen years old.

  And on that day, I promised myself I’d never break again.

  …

  He looked just like I would have expected him to.

  When Alara and I walked in, his profile was the first thing to catch my attention. Not the colorful drawings on the walls, not the couple bickering in the corner, nor the whirling of multiple tattoo guns.

  Just him.

  His large frame was covered in black as he hunched over a drawing table, and his dark eyebrows were pulled down in concentration. He sat back to critique his work, and with a frustrated grunt, he balled the paper up and tossed it in the trash can before gripping the back of his neck.

  The door behind us finally swung shut, the bang startling him and forcing his head our way. As he stood and slowly walked forward, my eyes roamed what I couldn’t fully see before.

  Both of his arms were covered in tattoos, one completely black-and-white while the other was adorned with every color imaginable. The tip of another tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt, bringing my gaze back to his face. A full sandy blond beard that left nothing of his jawline exposed framed his pouty, light pink lips. It bled into his hair of the same color, which was pulled into a small bun at the back of his head. His beard stopped just below his chin, neither clean-cut nor bushy, it was just sort of… perfect. Dark blue eyes collided with mine as he came to a stop in front of us.

  Yeah, I probably hadn’t been in love with Caleb if six weeks after our breakup I was already lusting after another guy. Thoughts of Caleb brought me full circle. Right. I wasn’t here for a guy, I was here for me.

  My smile was wide with excitement as I let my eyes drift away from his and around the shop. Even though this was a tad impulsive like Alara said, she was right, it wasn’t permanent and I could easily take it out later. No harm, no foul. I was still in complete control. My energy felt like a live wire ready to electrocute anyone who got too close, but I didn’t care. I was far too eager to worry about how cliché and juvenile I probably looked. Turning my gaze back to him, I cleared my throat and said, “Hi. I want to get—”

  He held up his large, tattoo-free hands as he cut me off. “No, no. Let me guess. It’s my favorite part.” Bringing one hand to his beard, he stroked it in contemplation for a few seconds before continuing. “You want a dolphin on your ankle, or a flower on your shoulder. No, no, wait”—he paused to snap his fingers and smirk—“I got it. A butterfly. You definitely want a butterfly on your lower back. How’d I do?”

  My smile slowly slipped. It didn’t take a genius to realize he was making fun of me, and whether it was supposed to be flirtatious or malicious remained to be seen.

  But regardless, I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you implying I’m a tramp? Because that wouldn’t be a very wise business decision.”

  He looked me up and down as he raised his eyebrows in return, clearly surprised. “Are you implying I’m stupid? Because that doesn’t seem wise considering I’ll be the person putting permanent ink on your pretty little skin.” He nodded his head toward my bare arms, where I’d rolled up the sleeves of my sweatshirt. Alara chuckled next to me, but it quickly died off when I swung my glare her way.

  Letting his insults go, I said, “I want to get my rook pierced.”

  “Ahh,” he said like he had it all figured out. “We’ve caught you in the middle of the adventurous stage, have we? Just something small to piss off Mom and Dad?” He stared down at me expectantly, like I should be squirming and cowering in a corner. Well… Fuck. That.

  My nostrils flared as I stepped forward. “You think you’re the first asshole I’ve ever dealt with?” I scoffed as he raised his eyebrows. “Think again. I can handle your bullshit, so the sooner you realize that and get the fuck over yourself, the sooner I can get what I came for and leave. You—”

  “Naomi…” Alara cautioned from behind me with a soft touch to my elbow. I stopped and let out a long breath as I looked around for another unoccupied employee. I nearly wept in relief when a girl a few years older than us stepped out of a back room. But weeping would have been dramatic… even for me. I noticed tattoos and piercings adorned her body too, as she stopped in between the douche and me.

  “Problem?” she asked as her gaze shifted between us.

  “Of course not,” the douche answered. “She’d like a piercing. Right, sweetheart?” he asked as he looked back over at me. Other girls might swoon at the term of endearment, but I knew he was still mocking me and honestly, it made me want to punch him in the throat.

  I threw on a bright smile. “Totally.” The word sounded ridiculously fake and had a clear valley girl accent, which had the new girl unabashedly laughing as I began twirling a strand of my mid-length brunette hair and batting my eyelashes. And although his expression stayed the same, I could have sworn I saw his eyes soften with humor. I quickly dropped the act and resurrected my glare before saying, “But it sure as fuck isn’t going to be done by you.”

  The douche’s laughter finally broke through as he extended his hand in a sweeping motion in my direction. “Claire, would you do the honor of assisting her majesty?” I wasn’t sure where this perception of me came from. And I wasn’t any closer to figuring out if he was seriously insulting me or if it was meant to be light banter. Either way, I was thoroughly annoyed and over this conversation. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed Alara’s hand and stepped forward.

  “You’re an ass,” Claire said, even as she laughed along with him before she offered me a warm smile and nodded to the back room. I followed her, not once looking behind me, as she asked me what kind of piercing I wanted.

  “A rook,” I answered when the three of us were enclosed in the room.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s harmless.” Claire waved her hand in th
e direction of the door before setting out the supplies. “Now did you want a hoop or a bar?”

  “The bar.”

  She nodded and began getting situated. Alara leaned over and softly said, “I don’t get it. Why was he so rude? You don’t look like…” She trailed off when Claire turned around, a light pink tingeing my best friend’s cheeks.

  “Because he’s an asshat?” I said at a normal volume that Claire clearly heard. Alara’s eyes widened as she glanced at my piercer before sitting back in her chair.

  “It’s the college thing,” she explained as she motioned to my Carillo University sweatshirt. “He doesn’t have the patience for most of the college students who come in here.” Pulling the gloves over her colorfully tattooed arms, she grabbed the piercing and removed it from its sterilized packaging. “Which ear?” I pointed to the one closest to her and she nodded. “Okay, lie back.”

  I took a deep breath as I shuffled around. I saw Alara out of the corner of my eye, smiling down at her phone, most likely texting Gabe. And even though I rolled my eyes, I was smiling, too. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her.

  “Now turn your head away from me.” I did as I was told—a rarity—and rested my left ear against the paper, now only seeing a white wall. The needle pierced my skin and I felt uncustomary tears well in my eyes.

  Holy shit.

  My ear was on fire.

  I ground my teeth through the rest of the process. It was much more complicated than merely piercing and sticking the jewelry in. She had to slowly work the curved bar through, little by little, until I wanted to tell her to stop. But I didn’t. I wanted this, I’d get it. Simple as that. Pain be damned. But shit, it was a lot of pain.

  I finally let out a breath of relief as we walked out the door twenty minutes later. It still stung and I was told if I didn’t keep it clean, the infection would be a bitch to take care of, but I was so damn happy I’d done it.