Shattered Chaos (Steel Roses Book 1)

by Samantha Bee

  I allow him to get in a few more hits but don’t let him unseat me so he’s stuck underneath me. I see the moment he realizes how utterly screwed he is, and I know he’s a second from tapping out.

  The crowds’ screaming amplifies my own rage. They’re calling for his blood as much as I want to spill it. The deaths here are what the ring is known for. We have rather bloodthirsty fans. I am nothing if not happy to oblige.

  Right as I see him move to take the pussy way out of the ring, I grab his head and repeatedly slam it into the bottom of the ring. Relishing in every crack I hear reverberate through his skull. There’s no coming back from this. I know it, he knows it too.

  I watch as the light fades from his eyes and it’s like I draw it into my very soul as I rise onto my feet with a victory cheer.

  The crowd is on their feet, screaming and hollering. I make eye contact with Luca and he’s god damn laughing. In public. That may be a first.

  At least it totally adds to his psychotic vibes.

  I doubt anyone will be saying a bad word against our girl again. I jump out of the ring, leaving behind the bleeding and broken body of Emel. Not my problem now. Some of the guys will take care of it.

  I’m riding the high of my win as I make my way back up to Luca. I find Rachel sitting at the table laughing with Luca at my manic energy.

  I lean down and kiss her cheek, “Sorry babe, I have a girl to get home too while I’m still riding this high. Let’s go Luca.”

  He chuckles, “Come by Wednesday and I’ll have the information for you,” he tells Rachel as we get ready to head out.

  Fuck I missed fighting but now I miss my girl. I want to share the blood of our enemies with her.

  And taste that pretty pussy. Finish what I started this morning.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wake up to the little body next to me thrashing around the bed as she struggles against the sheets and makes a strange mewling sound. It sounds like she wants to scream but it's getting stuck in her throat.

  I wonder if there is something wrong with her vocal cords and that’s why we haven’t been able to get her to talk to us.

  I carefully gather the little girl up in my arms, mindful of her wounds, I hush and murmur sweet nothings to her the same way I did earlier. She doesn’t relax or respond in any way but keeps throwing her arms out and making those heart wrenching noises.

  I can’t help the tears that start to stream down my face. I can’t believe how emotional I’ve been today, but the girl pulls on my heartstrings like no one has managed to do since my sisters.

  She reminds me so much of them and I don’t know if that’s why I felt such an instant connection with her or if my broken soul reached out to her bruised and battered one. All I know is that our souls touched and she’s pure light in this world of darkness and I don’t want it to be too late to save her.

  I gather her close to my chest as I rock her back and forth, some deep instinctual part of me calls to me to start singing. I start out by humming and I notice her relaxing just a hair. I hum as I get the melody and start singing the song that had popped in my head.

  The lyrics to Ruth B’s Lost Boy pour out of my mouth as I rock her back and forth against my chest. It’s a sweet song about Peter Pan and running away from reality. I feel like we both could use an escape right now.

  I run through the entire song a few times as she slowly relaxes with every word and note that comes out of my mouth. Finally, she falls still and cuddles deeper into my chest.

  I kiss her forehead and squeeze her to me. I’m not going to be able to let her go. Something in me is telling me that she is mine. A vital part of me now, from the first moment I laid my eyes on her. I don’t know how we are going to deal with it, but I know I will do whatever it takes.

  I wipe the tear tracks off her cheeks as I tuck her back into the bed. I stare at her little features as I brush the hair off of her face. I don’t know how long I lay there and stare at her, gently stroking her hair.

  I really wish we knew her name. As soon as she wakes up that’s going to be my first priority to learn. I still have all the information we took from them today too. We may be able to track her family that way, as well.

  I’m not sure why but I feel pretty certain that this little girl doesn’t have a real family to go back too. It’s strange how much I want to give her that. A real family.

  I scoff at myself, the fuck would I know about a real family?

  We will find a good foster home for her close by so I can visit her. I can be a fun aunt. That’s a role I think I can figure out fairly easily. I smile thinking about watching this little angel growing up. Watching her being showered in love.

  I might not be the right person to give her that life, but I will make damn sure she gets it anyways.

  I sigh and study her features one more time. There are no signs of her earlier stress, she seems to be in a deep sleep now without the nightmares haunting her.

  I slowly move away from her as I watch her to make sure she stays asleep as I get out of bed.

  My demons are closing in and I need ice cream and some whiskey to drown them back out. That little girl pierced my armor that I thought was indestructible. She burrowed right in there but the emotions she’s let loose have my demons escaping their binds.

  Dancing tomorrow and partying with friends should be able to help me bury them back down under layers of alcohol and cheap thrills. Maybe I’ll convince Kade we are due for more tattoos.

  Once I’m safely out of the room and I can’t hear anything but her deep, even breaths I feel myself relax as I head to the kitchen.

  I walk in and find that Ryder has already beat me to my own stash of ice cream. He looks up at me and nods in greeting, “Ice cream?” He offers me my ice cream as he turns around and grabs another spoon for me. I notice he grimaces as he turns, and I wince sympathetically. Bruised ribs are a bitch, at least the doctor confirmed they weren’t broken.

  I take it but raise my brow at him. I’m glad he’s made himself at home here but that’s my fucking ice cream and I don’t like to share it. If it was Kade I would have already bit his damn hand off.

  “I swear,” he sighs, “this is the best damn ice cream I have ever had. I might ask Luca to marry me for this alone.”

  I chuckle, fine, I guess I can share if he’s going to be so damn passionate about it. It’s like he thinks if he licks the spoon enough, it’ll give him babies. Hmm interesting thought to recall, umm, later.

  “You’re welcome,” I answer him. “Luca keeps it stocked for me,” I explain before he can ask.

  He laughs, “Of course you’re the reason behind this.”

  I shrug because he’s not wrong but still ask, “What makes you say that?”

  He hums in thought as he studies the ice cream carton, “Luca just doesn’t seem the type to allow himself to indulge in something like Toffee Coffee ice cream.” He uses his spoon to point at me, “You on the other hand seem like the type that likes to indulge in even the littlest of things.”

  I smile as I take a huge bite of ice cream, “Doesn’t everyone always tell you to enjoy the little things?”

  He nods, “That’s fair. I’ve been around for half a day and even I already know that Luca caters to your every whim. So, it’s no surprise he would have his house stocked with your favorites.”

  A full belly laugh escapes out of me and I don't know who is more surprised by it. “You’re not wrong,” I concede. Luca does always make sure that I have what I need at his house even though I’m not here all that often.

  He has extra clothes for me, my favorite snacks, my go to beauty products. All ready for me whenever I may show up here. It’s really quite impressive.

  “Was that the first time he ever tore into you like that?” he questions. I can’t contain the flinch that takes over my body.

  I scoop another huge bite of ice cream into my mouth. I suck on the spoon as I think back to the fight with Luca. He had every right to yell at m
e. I’ve always known he loved me, but I guess not even I knew just how deep that love ran and how interconnected our souls already were.

  What was even more surprising was the tender look in Kade’s eyes when he held me in his arms and the way it didn’t scare me. I guess I always knew he cared about me on a deeper level than a fuck buddy because of our past.

  It just felt so natural to go back and forth between the two, it makes me realize how often I’ve done that in the last eight months. Found my balance between the two of them. When one pushes me, the other pulls me back to sanity.

  It’s always been like that with the three of us though. Even the first time we met as kids, one teased and questioned, the other comforted me. I don’t think they realize I remember that day at the park all those years ago, but I always remembered them.

  I spent a lot of years missing them. Especially when I knew they watched me from afar. I just didn’t know how to bridge the gap between us before I landed in that group home right alongside them.

  “Only once before,” I finally answer Ryder as I tap my spoon against my lips.

  “What was it about?” he asks.

  I tilt my head to the side and study him. He seems genuinely curious but also in the way that seems like he needs the distraction.

  I think back to the only other time Luca lost his cool with me and let me have it.

  “I guess you could say it was pretty similar to today. He thought I was putting myself in danger for the sake of someone else.”

  “Were you?”

  I smile but it's a sad one, “Maybe, after all these years I’m still not sure.”

  “You’re not sure if there was danger?”

  “I’m not sure if there was enough danger worth losing him,”

  “You sound pretty sure.”

  “Hmm, maybe,” I answer noncommittally but some part of me knows he’s right. There was no amount of danger that was worth what I did to him. Looking back, I don't think we made the right call.

  “Kade?”

  I give Ryder credit, he’s far more perceptive than I’d expect from someone who got caught in a raid.

  I arch my brow at him but give him no answer. It doesn’t seem to deter him any. He smirks as he looks around the kitchen before turning back to me, “Wanna play truth or dare?”

  I snort, “What are we? Fifteen? Trying to figure out if I have a crush on you?”

  He laughs but shrugs and I can tell he wants to push it. For some unknown reason, I find myself not wanting to totally blow him off. I turn my back to him and reach into the cabinet to pull out my favorite whiskey. With my back turned to him, I sigh, “Go ahead and ask your damn questions.”

  I turn around, whiskey in hand to find him perked up in his seat. I tilt my head and can’t help but crack a smile, he looks like an overeager puppy. “You’ll really answer my questions?”

  I laugh, “I didn’t say that.” I uncap the whiskey and bring it to my lips as I take a long swallow.

  “So, you’ll drink if you don’t want to answer a question?”

  I scoff, how naïve he’s turning out to be. “No, I’m drinking regardless. Life is fucking messy but at least when the lines start blurring between right and wrong, I can blame the whiskey.”

  “You know, you can ask me questions too.” His tone is playful but that pain that I recognized earlier, is still in his eyes. I can almost see it weighing down on him physically.

  I know how that feels and some part of me really wants to take some of that away from him the way Kade does for me. Kade’s playful energy and reckless nature is the perfect distraction. I’m all about distractions, maybe for once I can be the distraction someone else needs.

  I hum, “I guess there are a few things I wouldn’t mind learning about you.”

  He chuckles but cuts himself off abruptly, instead nodding in agreement. That’ll probably happen a lot until his body heals up a bit more. It wasn’t as bad as he first appeared but he’s going to be in some pain. I pour a shot for each of us and nod towards him, waiting for him to take his before throwing mine back. Might as well start this shit off right.

  “Okay, let's start easy,” he teases, “Favorite color?”

  “Blue,” I answer right away.

  “Really?” he asks, surprised, “I would have guessed black or red.”

  I shrug, “Black would be my next choice. I love to wear red, but blue is my favorite color.”

  “Embarrassing childhood memory?” I ask him.

  He chuckles and rubs his jaw as he thinks, “Oh, I have a good one. My first crush on a girl,” he starts, “I had a birthday party at my house, and it was boys and girls invited. It was very cool and the talk of Miss Smith’s fifth grade class.”

  I start laughing, trying to picture a ten-year-old Ryder throwing a birthday party just so he could hang out with his crush.

  “Well, the party started, and all was going well. Everyone was having a good time. I was officially going to be crowned the coolest kid in fifth grade,” he brags, dragging out the excitement and really building up to the embarrassment.

  “I was really feeling myself, so I worked up the courage to finally talk to my crush. Just as I was walking up to her, I bumped into someone and they spilled their drink all over the front of my jeans.”

  I can’t help but laugh imagining the scene playing out. It’s such a classic childhood embarrassing story.

  “Oh, it gets worse,” he shakes his head and chuckles, “my sister,” he pauses and swallows as he starts to get choked up. He shakes the emotion off and starts again, “My baby sister came out just after it happened and said, ‘What has mom told you about using the bathroom Ry? We pee in the potty, not our pants,’ making it seem like it was something I did all the time,” he finishes with less enthusiasm but his tone affectionate, eyes filled with pain.

  I realize the darkness I’ve seen in him must be because of his sister. If I were a betting woman, I would say he lost her to human trafficking. I’ve said it before, but no one gets involved in this business for anything less than personal reasons. I think I just found Ryder’s.

  Being the good distraction, I promised I’d be, I don’t bring it up but instead tease him on how he must have lost the coolest kid crown after that. He seems relieved as he takes my teasing and laughs it off.

  The darkness still surrounds him, but he seems a fraction less solemn as he gets ready for his next question.

  “Exactly how involved in the MH foundation are you?”

  I just barely manage to contain the grimace, “Very,” I answer simply.

  “That’s not exactly,” he counters.

  I raise my brow at him and shrug. He isn’t getting anything else out of me and I never promised him answers.

  “What were you doing before you got involved in the vigilante group?”

  “Nothing worth going back to,” he answers. I raise my brow but don’t push, sticking to trying to be his distraction.

  We trade questions back and forth, passing the bottle between us, getting a couple laughs and other embarrassing stories out of each other. Ryder has been pretty observant and asks a lot of questions about Luca, Kade, and I. I’m surprised with how much he’s been able to pick up on.

  Ryder has answered most of my questions except those about his most recent past. As nice of a distraction it’s been, I can see the weight of his burdens weighing down on him more and more as we sit here. He seems to be just barely hanging on to his sanity at this point.

  “Do you want to tell me about your sister?” I ask him, knowing she’s the source of his pain.

  “Not really,” he sighs as he throws back more whiskey.

  “Are you going to anyway?”

  He grimaces, “Probably,” and throws back another shot. “Can I ask you another question first?”

  “Sure,” I answer before grabbing the whiskey back and taking a swig straight from the bottle. I already know this conversation is about to get heavier than I normally like.

 
“Do you tell people your story?”

  “Nope,” I answer, swinging more whiskey back.

  “Have you ever told anyone the full story?”

  I study the whiskey for a moment, we’ve almost finished the bottle. I take another pull from it before I meet his eyes. I’m not sure what pushes me to be honest, maybe it's the whiskey, or that my shattered soul recognizes his broken one, or maybe I just like being the one with the advice for once. Whatever the reason, I decide to give him an inch, “Once, to Luca. A little less than a year after it happened.”

  “Did it help?”

  I cock my head to the side as I consider my answer, “It didn’t make the rage or grief or guilt any easier to bear,” I hesitate, “but it did help solidify my path moving forward. It gave me someone who had my back every step of the way too. Luca would have anyway, but it helped that he knew the why behind all my actions. He’s never questioned me, and he even sometimes knows what I need before I do.”

  He nods and I push the whiskey back to him as he takes a deep breath. “It’s not really a complicated story,” he says but doesn't continue.

  I shrug, “Heartbreak doesn’t always have to be complicated. Pain can be as straight as the edge of the knife someone stabs into your back. Doesn’t make it any less real.”

  He nods, “She was taken.” He doesn’t continue right away but I know there’s more to the story, so I just wait for him to get the rest out when he’s ready. Sometimes just staying silent and being physically present is the best way to help someone cope with their trauma. You don't always have to have advice or the right answers. Sometimes there are no right answers.

  After several moments of silence, he finally continues, pain etched into every line on his face as tears start to roll down his face, “I couldn’t save her.” He shakes his head before looking me in the eyes and I’m drawn back by the agony and desperation I see there. Staring into Ryder’s green eyes is like staring into a mirror to my own very fucked up soul.

  “I tried to save her,” he pleads, begging me to understand and maybe even absolve him from some of his guilt. His grief is a raw, living thing, pulsating between us. It’s still fresh, still bleeding. He hasn’t had time to bury the demons, to strengthen his walls, to even wrap his head around his loss or begin to comprehend it.