Beautiful Chaos

by Keta Kendric

  Did she have any idea how hard it was for me to hold back? Of course, she didn’t. She was oblivious to the sweet chaos she stirred within me. She had no idea what she represented. How could she know that I was holding back from my one true obsession?

  After placing all of the dishes in the dishwasher I rarely used, I found Desiree sitting at the table, waiting for me to return. There was a sincere mix of hope and happiness in her expression. There had to be a way to turn her off from me. I had been certain that her seeing me torture someone would do the trick, but she was an anomaly I might never fully understand.

  I didn’t understand what made her want me when she knew I was as dangerous as I was damaged.

  She knew that I killed, but did she understand that it was my primary job, one that I couldn’t get out of, even if I wanted to? She had no idea that I studied death in books and with medical professionals. I trained like a soldier that was active in a war that would never end. However, I believed she knew right away that I would never lay a harmful hand on her.

  The general public and the women I had slept with rarely saw me without a contact lens. I gave the world what I assumed was the more pleasing image of myself, the fake version they were more likely to trust.

  Women saw muscles, tanned skin, and a canvas of tattoos, and it translated into the bad boy they desired. They never considered glancing deeper, or asking about the person within, not that I gave them a chance to go that far.

  Desiree had seen me by accident the first day, and her immediate acceptance of me had me thinking differently about how I presented myself.

  “I heard you on the phone earlier. Was it about the men you killed yesterday? Is it going to be okay for me to keep my spa date with my friend, Patrena in a few days?”

  My gaze fell to the empty space where my plate had been, remembering that I had picked at my food. Usually, I devoured any meal set in front of me because my appetite had always been ferocious. However, with Desiree present, I had developed a different kind of hunger.

  “Yes. Shouldn’t be a problem, although the guys haven’t identified if the men spying on you were from a group or working independently. I’ll keep an eye on you from a distance as I did before.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous for me to go out, though? What if more guys are out there waiting for me?”

  “I won’t let you out of my sight. We’ll protect you. The last thing we want is for you to lose your freedom, which in our opinion is a fate worse than death.”

  The update caused that beautiful smile to grace her face. I believed she liked me watching her. How would she react if she knew the secret I had been keeping for the past six years?

  A self-deprecating notion hit me. Revealing my secret was guaranteed to drive away any romantic tendencies she had for me. It would allow her to see me for the monster I was and not the portrait of me that she had been painting in her head since her stay with me.

  “Will you follow me? There is something I need to show you.” I turned away from her confused expression and marched towards my bedroom. The sound of her chair scooting back was followed by her light steps as she trailed behind me. I love that she stopped wearing those noisy slippers, which allowed me to see her bared feet and pretty little toes.

  It didn’t occur to me until I was opening my bedroom door that she may have assumed I was insinuating sex. She didn’t protest the idea, which made this unveiling that much more necessary.

  I stood at my door as she padded past me and entered my room, glancing around. Her mouth dropped at the sight of her paintings above my bed. The big smile that illuminated her face put a deep crease of concern on mine.

  “I didn’t know you were a fan of my work. I mean you said you were, but those were exclusive, only available to a select group.”

  “I’m a loyal fan of your work and of you,” I informed, causing her brow to lift and the smile to deepen. Her hand was clamped over a wide grin, one that my next reveal would wipe away from her face. Her smile dissolved when she noticed my rigid posture and serious expression.

  “Six years ago, my brother and I went to a fundraising ball for the homeless. You were there, escorted by your father. You wore an emerald green gown and gold heels with a small princess tiara pressed into your hair that was swept up into an up do. You danced with my brother that night.”

  Her face drooped, and her body followed as a little of the vibrant tone of her skin was being drained.

  “Arjen wasn’t the only one taken with you that night, Desiree,” I revealed. Curiosity was replacing interest on her face.

  “Who else?” she questioned, although I was sure she already knew the answer.

  “Me. I bumped into you in the dark hall that led to the bathrooms that night.”

  “I remember,” she replied.

  My face creased. “How could you remember me from a dark hall six years ago?”

  “We bumped into each other, and I dropped my clutch from the collision. You picked it up for me, and at the moment you handed it off, our hands touched, and you stared right into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. The lighting was dim, and your hair was long, shoulder-length. It hid half of your face in the shadow, but from the small portion I saw, I knew it was you.”

  “How did you even know me? You were introduced to my brother, not me.”

  Her smile did nothing to keep my frown from deepening as I tipped my head to the side. All this time, I assumed she had no idea who I was.

  “Less than a year before that dance, I was attacked, thrown into a trunk, and was likely being driven to my death if it hadn’t been for my cousin, Mecca, saving me. She started teaching me how to be more aware of my surroundings, the right way to handle and shoot a gun, and basic self-defense. When my father and I first stepped into the ball, he pointed you and your brother out. Although I didn’t shake hands with you, I knew who you were even in the dark, Khane.”

  It was a revelation I was unaware of. I’d assumed I was invisible to her.

  “I didn’t understand the reasoning at the time, but all that night, people kept mentioning your brother. I know now it was because he was taking over from your father. You guys were opposites. He was polished and working the room like a politician. However, I was curiously drawn to the dark mystery of you. Although I mingled and shook hands with all the people my father was introducing me to, my eyes followed you all night. You were neatly dressed in slacks and a shirt, but you were the only one not in a jacket or tie. It was like you had given their dress code the middle finger.”

  Her revelation had me rethinking the entire night because I had been watching her, but never suspected or even saw her watching me.

  “You turned down every woman who asked you to dance. And you always lingered in the corners behind the biggest crowd and near that big ugly statue of what looked like a school of dead fish. There was a dark mystery about you that made you more interesting than anything else at that function.”

  I didn’t shock easily, but Desiree’s reveal had thrown me for a loop. I had convinced myself that someone like her would never even notice me, and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Now, I understand why you weren’t afraid of me when I handed you your purse. I expected you would be, especially when I touched your hand on purpose and stared too long. You thanked me with a pleasant smile, and we went our separate ways. The encounter was a short one, but I have been fascinated with you ever since.”

  “Fascinated?” she questioned. Her face remained impassive as she awaited my response. This was the first time I’d been unable to guess what she was thinking.

  The heavy weight of uncertainty bared down on me as I prepared to reveal a secret that may scare her worse than seeing me torture someone. What if she tried to run away from me? She needed my protection more than she needed my friendship or whatever it was we were forming. I was at a loss at how to protect her and fight my need to be more.

  “Khane,” she called, her sweet tone floated into my ears before vi
brating over my skin. She had the ability to mesmerize me with only her voice. I concentrated, reminding myself that I couldn’t give in to my greatest temptation. I had to sever this connection that kept looping itself around me because it had become painfully obvious that one of our close encounters was going to lead to us fucking.

  “I was fascinated enough to watch you, spy on you a few times a month to satisfy my need to see you. I was fascinated enough that I have gotten off on the mere image of you more times than I can count.” I wasn’t ashamed of my behavior even while standing within arm’s reach of who had sparked it.

  Desiree had no real understanding of what she represented. “Desiree, for me, you’re not just any woman, you are the woman.”

  My words had caused her to go still, and I could already tell that they were affecting the way she had chosen to see me. Good. She needed to know that I wasn’t the good guy she’d convinced herself that I was. She needed to understand that I was sick, slightly deranged, and possibly mentally unstable.

  “This way,” I stated, pointing to my large walk-in closet and not giving her time to fully absorb my sobering words. The first portion of my closet was large, containing my clothes and shoes and a small sitting area. However, the space was big enough that it turned into another section.

  I stood leaning against the wall of where she would soon turn ninety degrees into the nook of the closet. Her sluggish steps and tightly pinched brow revealed her reluctance. She came to a screeching halt in front of me, aware that I was about to show her something horrible. Her eyes held the question I wasn’t going to answer. She wanted to know what she was about to witness.

  She glided further past me after I tilted my head towards the area she needed to go. Her measured steps were barely audible, but faltered when she eased into the shrine and stood frozen. I wasn’t sure if it was shock or fear or a combination that had her suspended in time, back tensed into a perfect line, head aimed straight ahead.

  There were pictures of her, hundreds, maybe even thousands. I had never seen Desiree naked but had captured images when she was down to bra and panties. There were a few of her in various stages of sleep. Some were of her exercising in her apartment’s small gym and others of her out on dates and driving in her car.

  I’d spent hours staring at the ones of her crying, wishing I could take her sorrow away. I had chronicled her life better than my own.

  Her hands were cupped over her mouth as her breaths heaved, squeezing between the cracks of her fingers. There were pictures of her with her friend, Patrena, and her cousin, Mecca, but I had cut the others out of the pictures.

  She was unaware that the sight of her would ease my stress. The mere image of her would make whatever haunting thoughts that plagued me go up in smoke. Desiree had no idea she had been my healing medicine for years, the only therapy I had sought.

  I’d shown her this because I saw no other option than to break the connection we were forming. Now, the sight of her fighting to understand this situation made me regret what I had just done.

  She glanced back for only a second, but I didn’t miss the daggers she shot at me. I didn’t miss the tremble in her fingers before she closed them into fist. There was a well of emotions blazing behind my eyes because I had put that sadness in her. Now, my consciousness was damning me for revealing my sick behavior. Poker-hot sensations made my internal organs melt at the sight of her drooping body, my reveal crushing her usually happy demeanor.

  I had to do this. I had to push her away for both our sakes. She had to see me fully. If I didn’t exert some sort of resistance, I would end up following her like a puppy, begging her to alleviate the overpowering flow of need that was wreaking havoc on me.

  A mixture of hurt and pain flashed through her tight expression when she glanced back a second time. A thick lump of regret clogged my throat, my reward for showing her the horrific shit that filled her eyes with unshed tears and caused her body to coil so tight with tension she appeared ready to snap.

  “How long?” she questioned, her voice low and strained. I could already feel the heat burning away the connection we had formed.

  “For the past six years, ever since the night of the ball when I bumped into you.” I spit out the poisonous truth, driving the tip of the rusted blade into my heart with my own words. She was either going to fear me or hate me.

  She stared at the wall, not saying a word. The silence in the space had turned into a weight that pressed down on me, but I squared my shoulders and endured it.

  The mind was a fickle creature, building roadways to ideas it led you to accept as truths. Never would I have ever thought she would be attracted to me or would want to kiss me. I had always believed that I would never get anywhere near her. It was one of the reasons I had allowed myself to go this far, to create something so insane as a shrine.

  There was nothing I could say to explain how I had allowed myself to do something like this. The shit was crazy, a fact that I had accepted, but it had been my secret. There were no excuses, not that I would give her any.

  When she made a move, I blinked away my thoughts. She inched up to the wall and placed her trembling hand atop one of the pictures as her head jetted from picture to picture, glaring at more of them.

  “Why did you show me this?” she questioned, her gaze still riveted on the pictures.

  “You needed to see me for who I am. You needed to know that I’m nothing like the picture of me you’ve created in your head. I’m the monster who coveted a woman I believed I would never have, that I would have never approached. I showed you this so you would be turned off by me and never want to touch me again, so you would marry my brother and never want to see me again. You needed to know that I’m as dangerous as the rumors suggest and as deranged as they imply.”

  She didn’t respond but instead glared back at me, absorbing my words with an indecipherable expression.

  “I’m not a nice person, Desiree. I kill people. I like killing people. It’s been my job for so long that I don’t know how to do anything else. I like eating away their lives and sending their souls to hell. I enjoy their deaths, knowing that I’m responsible for taking the most valuable thing they ever had. Can you actually picture yourself with someone like me?”

  She turned away without answering. Of the million questions swimming around in my head, at that moment, I wanted to know the answer to only one. What did she think of me now?

  17

  Desiree

  The squint on my face was growing deeper as I stared at pictures of myself while fighting to understand Khane. I turned back to him and aimed my finger over my shoulder at the collage featuring images of me at every imaginable angle. There were so many pictures that they took up the full back wall of the closet, some overlapping others.

  “Were these all taken from a distance? Were you ever close enough to touch me? Did you ever sneak into my apartment? Did you stand over me while I slept?”

  He shook his head. “I observed at a distance. Never entered your apartment. I never got too close.” There was no hint of regret. I don’t even think he was ashamed of what he had done. His confirmation that he hadn’t been stalking me closely provided a little relief, but not enough for me to relax.

  Why wasn’t I running and screaming my head off at this situation? Because you’re on top of a mountain with no place to run, the irritating voice in my head decided to remind me. Because he kills people for a living and could take you out within seconds. I shook off the warnings I tried to give myself.

  After another long hard stare at the wall, I turned and faced Khane full-on.

  “We need to talk.” I marched past him, my eyes formed into slits as my feet slapped hard against the floor.

  My sharp tone made him tense, but he followed me from the closet. Neither of us spoke a word as my quick steps sounded until we were in his living room. I pointed at the couch, demanding that he sit. The Evans’ temper had emerged, and I no longer cared who the hell Khane was, because righ
t now, I intended to give him a piece of my mind.

  He clamped his mouth shut, but I had caught his dropped jaw and quick eyes when it registered that I wasn’t afraid of him, even in light of what he had revealed. I sat on the couch next to him and turned so that I could get a close view of his face as we talked.

  “I know why you showed me your little shrine.” It was anything but little, but I had to find a way to minimize it in my own head. “I know you know that I’m drawn to you, attracted to you, and in a desperate attempt to scare me off, you revealed what may have been one of your deepest secrets.”

  A few quick breaths rushed out and sounded loud in my ears as I sat waiting and staring at him. “Make me understand this, Khane. I need to understand how you, the epitome of strength and confidence, could fear approaching me enough to do something like this.”

  He eyed me, unblinking, before releasing a harsh breath. He squinted before closing his eyes for a few seconds, his head tilting in what appeared to be confusion. He eased back into the couch, brushing his hand along his legs before releasing a sigh. He reconnected his gaze with mine when he was ready to talk.

  “I didn’t fear approaching you. I had been taught not to. I had been taught to live in the dark. Hunt, kill, train, and use anger as my motivator. I was trained to look the part, to act the part, and to play the roles, but I had never allowed myself to enjoy anything other than what I had been trained to love. After our father, Arjen caught on quickly to the fact that we could start embracing other joys in life.”

  The anguish in his tone was palpable, a living representation of the pain he had endured. I wanted to know so much more and wondered if he would tell me if I asked. For now, I needed to focus and figure out why he had me as the wallpaper in his closet.

  “When I saw you that night at the party, it set something off in me. That one encounter with you, that one shared touch was like an awakening. It was like a calling that revealed to me that I wasn’t all monster, that I didn’t have to be all monster, and that there was more to be had than what was drilled into my head. However, the fact still remained, that I was still a monster who had nothing to bring to the table but death.”