Little Doll: Queens of Chaos 1

by L. J. Findlay

  As if she could read my thoughts, her gaze met mine and she mouthed, “Fuckkkkk.”

  I giggled, prompting Blaise to tear his gaze from the view whizzing past us. He looked at me and I smiled back. It was insane to think of everything that had passed between us in just the past, meagre few hours. I felt drunk on the madness. I had to give it to him – the boy knew what to do with his body. My thighs involuntarily tightened, the memory of him between my legs hot and demanding but then simultaneously an unwanted coil of sickening stress tightened around my throat. My mind worked overtime; questioning the impact of what I did. I wasn’t sure if I could go back from this. No, there was definitely no going back. There was this inexplicable connection between us which sounded ridiculous, something out of a cliché romance but it was undeniable. Inescapable. But could I trust him?

  I gazed at his impenetrable eyes, the colour of an unfathomably deep ocean, and felt my heart flutter. I didn’t like the feeling of handing over my trust to him. Ecstasy from our brief trip to the mile high had given way to worry; something had shifted and now we were connected. What if I was making a huge mistake? Would I come out unscathed? I didn’t know him. I only know Xander. Knew Xander.

  I thought back to the memories I had of the boy I thought loved me, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised his love was twisted, coercive. He didn’t love me. He wanted to own me. His very own little doll…

  * * *

  I luxuriated against the soft sheets, the sun streaming through the window. My head felt heavy from the night before and my mouth parched. I reached over Xander, whose arm was flung against my ribs, for the glass of water. Finishing it all too quickly, I attempted to leave the bed to get another but was prevented by Xander’s arm pinning me down and a murmured protest.

  “Where are you going, Xan?”

  “Just to get a glass of water, babe.” I tried to leave again but felt him roll over me. I laughed. I could feel his erection; hard, pulsing against my leg. I sighed. I knew what was going to happen. It did irritate me because all I wanted was a glass of water and another hour or so sleep then, and only then, I might be in the mood. Xander often joked that he needed a harem of girls to keep him satisfied. It wasn’t a joke I found funny. I reasoned that our love was so strong and pure that Xan would never hurt me. I should just let it happen and it would be over soon.

  He rolled over me, bracing himself over my body, blonde hair falling haphazardly. I moaned uncomfortably into his kiss. He took this as a yes. His knee shifted my legs apart and I whimpered. He brushed another kiss over my lips, his tongue forcing my mouth open. I acquiesced. As bloody always. He reached down to position himself closer to my entrance, forcing the tip in.

  He groaned, “Fuck… you’re always so tight in the morning, Xan. Like a bloody cheese grater.”

  I mumbled something in response, unsure what to do. I just felt really uncomfortable as all I wanted to do was go back to sleep but I knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was fine because we loved each other so if he needed it, then I could just grin and bear it. It would be over before I knew it. Xan smiled down at me and continued thrusting until he was seated all the way inside of me. I felt nausea boil up in the back of my throat and gazed at a spot on the ceiling. I would just wait until he was over and then I could get that glass of water and have a nap, sleep off the debauchery of last night.

  It seemed to last for ages but finally Xan roared his release into me and fell to the side, breathing heavily. He looked over at me and smiled, assuming that I enjoyed it. All I could do was smile back weakly, chanting over and over in my head; we loved each other, I was just out of sorts because of last night, things would be normal in a couple hours.

  Wriggling out from under him, I headed to the bathroom. I fell inside and locked the door. While I was waiting for the shower to heat up, I gazed at my reflection and my usually lively blue eyes now dead; flat and dull. I hated it when Xan did this because I felt like I was covered in slime, drowning me in shame, sickness. I felt weak. Xan was the only boy I had been with, something I heard him crow about with his friends, so I had no point of reference. Intrigued, I had read some romance novels and nothing like what happened this morning was portrayed in a positive light in those books. I assumed it was something just Xan and I had then. Maybe that was why our love was so unique?

  Stepping into the shower, I pulled myself together and ran my hands through my dark hair but I couldn’t stop the insidious, icy grip of panic from coiling round my throat and wracking my body with shakes so hard I found myself sitting down. The water continued to run, mingling with my tears…

  * * *

  A hand squeezed tight around my throat, pulling me back into the present. My treacherous pulse thrummed like a distressed hummingbird. My fearful gaze met Blaise’s and I saw confusion flicker briefly before sheer rage blazed across his features. His grip tightened on my throat holding me captive.

  “The deed is done. Alia iacta est. We are in Paris,” he murmured, caressing my pulse. “Some would say it would be wise to trust me.” Blaise arched an eyebrow at me. I swallowed. He obviously picked up on my brief flash of reticence from earlier.

  Smiling and feigning dissonance, I responded. “And so I willingly went on an adventure with the devil.”

  Blaise regarded me impassively but loosened his grip, allowing me to brush my lips over his. The die had been cast and we were set on a path but I had no idea where it would take us. Tossing my hair back, I moved out of Blaise’s embrace. The suffocating secrets, the uncertainty swirling between us, and addressed the others. “Now, how about another line? Feel like we’re getting close!”

  Blaise stared at me for a few, long moments more before shaking his head and tuning back into the conversation.

  “… let in!” Noelle was saying, stirring shit as usual.

  I laughed, “Of course I will No-No. I’m a grown woman who can handle the cocaine.”

  Gem laughed at me and said, “Well get control of your jaw then otherwise the bouncers will think otherwise.”

  I pouted at them in protest, snorting up the line that Ludo had racked up, whooping in happiness once I was done. Gemma rolled her eyes despairingly.

  “Xanthe’s my kind of girl,” Ludo commented approvingly. I felt Blaise’s hands tighten on my hips. Possessive bastard.

  Bastien saluted me with his glass and toasted. “Cheers to the new Xanthe, freed from an age of oppression!”

  “Only to be enslaved into another if Blaise is always this moody,” Noelle chimed in, her eyes flashing with mischief.

  This reeled in a reaction from Blaise who scowled at her, squeezing my hips ever tighter making me curse. It would surely leave a bruise come morn. I wriggled in discomfort but to no avail.

  Damien, shrouded in shadows, regarded our trite interactions with what I imagined was boredom and disdain but spoke up, pulling Noelle into the shadows with him. “Now, now, Noelle. Wouldn’t go there if you don’t know where you’re going.”

  I smiled up at Blaise reassuringly, “You couldn’t enslave me if you tried.”

  He smiled down at me and murmured in my ear. “Don’t fool yourself, darling. This is nothing more than a weekend for us to indulge in our desires.”

  I leaned back against him, pouting. There was so much I wanted to debate with that pathetic phrase but I knew that it wouldn’t do to cause a scene. If my girls were to know the full extent of Blaise’s threatening mystery, well, it was safe to say that we would find ourselves separated from them in a heartbeat and in disregard of any consequences.

  “…nothing a line can’t fix.” Ludo held out the rolled up note expectantly and Blaise leant forward, the storm temporarily abated.

  The car slowed. I peered out of the window to see classically Parisian buildings tower on either side of us. I had only been a couple of times so my geography of the city beyond the main attractions was shaky to say the least. The avenue we were cruising down was lined with bars, fronted by attractiv
e awnings, and terraces now devoid of the usual crowds given the late hour. There was the occasional reveller stumbling down but otherwise it was muted, lacking any clue of where we might be. We truly were at the mercy of the boys, I thought in a brief flash of panic.

  “Montparnasse,” Blaise announced.

  “Montparnasse?”

  He dismissed my question, turning his attention to the passing city. The car pulled to a stop and he led us out, with me tucked under his arm. We led the others to a dark door issuing heady beats; clearly the club’s entrance from the line fanning out along the wall on the other side. The queue, corralled in with a velvet rope, was bypassed much to their disgruntlement I noted with amusement. Blaise exchanged a few terse words with the bouncer at the door who stepped to one side, admitting us.

  Inside, the darkness was sliced by jagged flashes of light, illuminating the dancers lost to hedonism. The music was sultry, pounding, vibrating through my very core. Inviting us to lose ourselves, to dance until the morning. I raised my hands up, threading my fingers through the beat and Noelle came up behind me, shimmying her hips. I tipped my head back, dancing with her, guided by the music. I reached out to Gemma, pulling her away from Bastien, and we danced together, seduced by the music. The laser focus of the guys on us only egged me on further. The attention was intoxicating, addictive, and I couldn’t get enough.

  “Come on, babe. We don’t have time for this,” Blaise said, impatiently pulling me back into him. I grinded up on him, excited by his visible reaction, earning myself a bite on my neck. “Not now, Xanthe.” He dragged me through the throng of people to a smoking area, finding us a quiet booth.

  He offered me a cigarette, lighting me up, as the others filed into the booth, his features defined by the orange glow of the lighter. He looked feral, in control, in his element. Untameable. I felt a frisson of fear. What had we got ourselves into this time? Was it something we could get ourselves out of?

  Pouting at him to mask my fear, I tilted my head back, soaking in the atmosphere of the fellow partygoers and stared at the buildings rising tall around us, piercing the stars. The cigarette centred me, focused in my spinning thoughts, alleviating the effects of the cocaine, the drink. The thrum of fear simmered down to the background. I looked up at Blaise, thoughts whirring in my head. Namely, what was their mission? Why did it involve coming to Paris? Why was it so urgent?

  Gem kissed my cheek, drawing me out of my thoughts, back to the blessed present. I smiled at her and pulled her into an embrace, much to Bastien’s discontent on the other side. We both smiled at Noelle who blew us a kiss from the other side. Giggling at our dance with insanity, I tuned into the conversation.

  “You know you can access the catacombs from this place?” Damien was saying.

  I glanced across the table at him and smiled at him, his face even sharper in the relief of the soft lighting and the glow of the cigarettes. He reminded me of something akin to a rodent. A good-looking one of course. I inhaled more of my cigarette. It was the eyes I decided; sharp like a rat’s, constantly assessing, and his lithe figure. Lean and nimble, quick to slip in and out of the shadows. In all honesty, he frightened me somewhat. Out of all the boys, he exuded the most clandestine and mysterious vibe, shrouded in secrets I wasn’t sure I wanted to be privy to. Of course, he would be the one to bring up something so morbid.

  I remembered visiting the catacombs last time I visited Paris. It was Halloween and we thought it would be a laugh. It was interesting but the tunnels filled with bones seemed to stretch on endlessly. I shivered at the thought of it extending further than its mandated reach, like insidious fingers of ivy wrapping crumbling buildings into a chokehold back into the earth, erasing it from existence.

  Noelle had no qualms, of course, and leant across the table, cupping her chin, staring at Damien’s fathomless eyes, quivering with excitement. “The catacombs you say? I thought that was restricted.” I wanted to roll my eyes at this. He was the exact boy who should be kept well away from her. Together they would be a lethally fatal and toxic combination.

  “Restricted doesn’t apply to us,” Ludo interjected, blowing a plume of smoke sagely.

  Gem giggled. “Don’t say that, Ludo! You’ll only encourage Noelle and Xanthe even more. Especially Noelle because she loves anything associated with death. Skulls. Graveyards. Satanic rituals. Absolute nightmare. I mean look at where we are now – fucking Paris!” Pinning us with the minute force of her gaze, she continued. “Girls, this was not the plan!” I laughed at that. Gem was such a kitten when she was mad, an infuriated kitten batting sharp claws. “Xanthe! This isn’t a laughing matter.” I loved the girl and I knew that Noelle and I sometimes took advantage of her; tonight was a classic example of how she willingly danced along with us to the tune of excessive, chaotic debauchery when all she wanted was for us to head home when the pub closed. It was fine, I reasoned, she was having fun and she was with Bastien. If she really didn’t want to do something she would say no and we would listen because we loved her and she was part of our chaotic sisterhood.

  “Of course, babe. Think you need another drink – calm yourself down.” I smiled, cuddling her in closer.

  “Eh, it was in the plan – distract Xanthe. Also, we got ourselves in this mess so we can bloody well get ourselves out of it,” Noelle added, nonchalantly stubbing out her cigarette.

  Damien pulled her attention back to him. “Is this routine behaviour for you?”

  “Well, not going to Paris. but yes!” Gemma spluttered despairingly.

  Noelle laughed. “I guess we get ourselves into the odd scrape but it’s chill.” She stared intently at Damien. “Catacombs you say?”

  “Babe, you’re so bloody morbid…” I interjected.

  He ignored us, pulling on his cigarette. “They are restricted but that doesn’t mean you can’t access them… they spread all over the south of Paris, accessible anywhere. Even from here…”

  “I want to go.” She demanded.

  “No,” Blaise interrupted. Noelle glared at him and I laughed. “D, we have a plan tonight. We don’t need to be disappearing down tunnels like we’re in Alice Fucking Wonderland.”

  “Spoilsport.” Noelle pouted, sticking her tongue out. I sighed. I knew I was going to have to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t go disappearing down any tunnels.

  “As I was saying, now that we have extra baggage thanks to Bastien…”

  I felt a sting of annoyance at that. Is that all he saw me as? Baggage? Blaise was back to Stuck Up Twat. No sexual skills excused that behaviour. He was deluded if he thought that he would get away with it. I tipped my chin at him, pulling away from his embrace. “Baggage that you don’t mind wetting your dick with,” I spat.

  “Blaise!” Gemma exclaimed. “You can’t say that!”

  “Fuck’s sake! Shut up everyone or else we will leave you girls,” Bastien made a move to protest but Blaise sailed on. “Regardless of what Delacourt wants to say. Now, Damien, Ludo, and I will go while Delacourt stays behind as a babysitter seeing as he got us into this mess.” Blaise pinned him with a look, “Don’t fuck this up. You do not want to see me angry.”

  He, Ludo, and Damien made a move to go and I blinked away tears. I was not going to become weak over some stupid boy. It was just a good fuck at the end of the day. That’s all. I didn’t need to be the weak girl who burst into tears over a rejection. Gemma smiled supportively at me and Noelle looked livid, seconds from jumping up in outrage. I placed a placatory hand over hers and she scowled at me but settled back against the booth.

  Thankfully, the others were oblivious to the frisson of tension so I plastered a smile on my face and announced, “Drinks girls? Need to get my buzz back after all that talk of dead bodies!” I got up and led the others into the bar, desperately needing a dance and to enjoy this evening. I didn’t come to Paris to be smothered by fucking tension.

  Blaise

  “God man, you really are a dick,” Ludo said conversationally as we he
aded away from the others.

  “And your opinion matters because?”

  He flung his arm over my shoulder and I tried to shrug it off but the fucker only tightened his grip. “Because one of these days you are going to lose something that you really care about and you’ll have to come to us to pick up the pieces. As per usual. And that Xanthe chick, well she’s a real diamond, and it’d be a shame to lose her.” He paused, I simmered in rage under his grip. “She’d be better with me. Maybe you should have learnt to share like D said.”

  That was it. I ripped his grip off me and pinned him against the wall. Bastard needed to understand that he couldn’t have everything. “She’s fucking mine, okay?”

  “Hey, hey. Blaise, let him go.” Damien drawled behind me, bored of our childish antics.

  I paused, glaring at Ludo and reluctantly let him go. The meeting tonight took precedence over people taking what belonged to me. “Jesus, Blaise. You have some fucking issues. I was only joking.”

  I ignored him. I just wanted to meet the shady fucker who scheduled this meeting and get back to Xanthe. This attraction we shared flew in defiance to everything I had believed prior to tonight; there was a reason love is blind. It was blind to logic, to reason and only served to hinder me. If the Elders found out then she would only serve as leverage and God only knew if I could entertain our attraction after I had found out what the task I had to do was.

  Who the fuck did this girl think she was to worm herself in like no other girl had ever managed to do? It’s not like…okay, her pussy was fairly magical but there was still that elusive enigma buzzing around her, calling me in. I reasoned to myself that as soon as this weekend was over I would forget her. She would have faded into insignificance. I would continue as normal. Fucking without care. Not dragging girls into the sordid mess I called my life. Eventually breaking free of the iron grip and surveillance enforced on me. On my brothers. The precious investments. The legacy, the next generation, to The Club but not worthy until all the hoops had been jumped through.