Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 69

SIXTY-NINE

EV ERETT

sit at the bar, working on a drink. I’m not sure how many I’veI had at this point. I’ve been here since they opened.

The club is packed on this Friday night. I’m not in a people mood, but I’m in a get-fucked-up mood, and the loud music is drowning out my thoughts. So that helps. Plus, my house is the first place Kashton will go to look for me when he re alizes I’m not re turn ing to Car nage.

I spent the day with Janice, pre tending to care about food and dec‐ o rations for a birthday party I don’t want to have, when all I wanted to do was bang my head up against a wall.

Needing to use the re stroom, I get up from the bar. I’m hover ing over the toilet—you couldn’t pay me enough to sit on them—when I hear the door open and close and several sets of heels clap on the floor.

“Fuck. That man is so fine,” one of them says dreamily.

“Tyson Craw ford is definitely my type,” another laughs.

“Yeah, well…did you see the guy who walked in right before us?

He’s my type. Motorcycle and all. He can take me for a ride any‐

time.”

“No. Who was it?” another asks.

“Kashton Pierce.”

I hold in a sigh. No doubt Adam called him, and he’s here to drag me home.

“Bitch, I’d take both of them, and don’t pre tend you’d turn down Tyson,” one giggles and I roll my eyes.

“Who’s the Kashton guy?” a third voice questions.

I snort at that.Only the most amazing man alive.

yg

“He’s a Lord.”

“They both are,” one corrects her.

“What’s a Lord? That like some kind of fraternity or something?”

“Yeah,” the first one answers, and I smirk. If that’s what you want to call them.

“They’re the reason I didn’t get to go to Bar rington,” one whines.

“But your sis ter Millie went, didn’t she?”

“Yep. She and her best friend went to the House of Lords for a party, and her friend got knocked up by one. The guy got in deep shit for having sex—which is crazy because I’ve been told it’s one big orgy—anyway, his father paid her two hundred and fifty thousand to have an abortion.”

I exit the stall and walk over to wash my hands. They glance at me but con tinue their conver sa tion.

“Fuck that. I would have had the baby. She could have gotten way more than that in child support.” One frowns, looking at herself in the mirror. “Aren’t they rich?”

“I don’t think all of them are, but the majority, yes.”

“Anyway,” the third girl says, “they’re both married.”

“Kashton isn’t,” the brunette argues.

“Yes, he is.” She runs her hands through her hair. “I looked, and he’s wear ing a wedding ring.”

The original one snorts. “Like they fuck ing care. My sis ter told me what went on at those parties. They all pass their girlfriends and wives around. Plus, they have more side chicks than days of the week. I’m going to shoot my shot.” She pops open her lipstick and smears it over her trout pout.

It makes me think of the Spade broth ers and Ashtyn. How Saint passed her around to his friends. Not like she had a choice. Saint is partly at fault for the way Ashtyn is. He made her the cen ter of all their lives knowing he would one day take that away from her.

“Like Kashton will turn you down.” The redhead laughs. “Are you still on the pill?”

“Yeah, but I was on antibi otics last week.” She winks, and I want to slam her face into the counter. Up until now I didn’t mind her infat u‐

ation with my husband. I mean, I get it. He’s hard to re sist. “I’ve had baby fever the last few months.”

“Your mother would kill you,” one tells her with a frown.

“She’d be mad at first, but I think she’d come around.”

“Good luck,” I can’t help but join their conver sa tion, smiling at her in the mir ror.

All three of them look at me. The one in the center, the one plan‐ ning on fucking my husband, smirks at me.

“Our girl doesn’t need luck,” the redhead quips. “Just look at her.”

I take the invitation and examine her. Short dark bob with a glittery silver dress and Gucci heels. She’s pretty, but I don’t care who she thinks she is; my husband won’t want anything to do with her. “I don’t think you’re his type.”

Her brown eyes narrow on me, and I smile, drying off my hands before exiting the bathroom and making my way back to the bar. I stand at the far end right off the hallway so I can scan the club while “Sweat” by Open Till L8 blasts throughout.

I spot Kashton across from me at the opposite end immediately.

You can’t miss him under the flashing neon lights. He’s standing, giv‐ ing me a side view as he speaks to Colton and Alex.

“Another?” the bartender hollers over the music, noticing my re‐ turn.

I nod at him while staring at my husband, waiting for him to glance my way.

“Here you go.” The bartender drops my drink in front of me, and I catch sight of the woman come into view while she rounds the bar.

I stand up straighter when she walks right up to Kashton. It’s hard to miss the disco ball she’s wearing.

Alex notices her, but Colt and Kash both ignore the bitch. She bumps into my husband, and he glances her way and then steps back from the bar, giving her space.

Good boy. I’ll rip his balls off if he entertains her advances.

She frowns, looking across the bar at her friends, who are nodding and smiling, encouraging her to try harder.

This bitch.

She taps his arm, and he looks down at her. Rising on her tiptoes, she cups her mouth, trying to talk to him.

His eyes find mine across the bar the mo ment heat rolls over my body like a raging fire when she leans into him.

Picking up my drink, I begin to move, shoving my way through the club and to the opposite side. As I approach them, Kashton reaches out to grab my arm, but I pull away, walk up to her, and throw my drink on her.

She gasps, her arms flying out to her sides when she steps back.

“What the—”

“He’s married. Fucking bitch.” I punch her in the face.

She imme diately falls to the floor, passed out. One hit to the face, and she’s out.

That felt good, to let out a little aggres sion, but don’t try and fuck some one you know belongs to some one else. I’m his wife. Not some fuck he sees every other Monday.

Her friends rush over and try to help her up, but Alex intervenes.

“Everett.” An arm wraps around me from behind and my heels are lifted out from underneath me. I’m hauled back through the crowd and set down on my Jimmy Choos in the hallway that leads to the bathroom.

I spin around to yell at Kash, but he wraps his hand around my throat, shoving my back into the wall. “Goddammit, Eve,” he growls in my face.

“I’m sorry for interrupting. Did you want to fuck her?” I snap, breathing heavily.

His hard eyes search mine, and I glance at his lips, licking mine.

Fuck, I’m so horny. I want him to fuck me in front of the bitch. Show her what she’s missing while showing he’s taken.

My hands fist his shirt, and I pull him closer to me, want ing his body on top of mine.

I lean into him, and he goes to kiss me, but Colton comes up next to us. “Tyson wants to see you two in his office.”

“Fuck,” Kashton hisses, letting go of my neck. He grabs my hand, yanking me from the hallway and to the ele vator.

My anger grows at Tyson interrupting. I need some hate fuck right now. Put me in my place while he proves to me that I’m the only one he wants. Is that too much for a woman to ask?

KASHTON I pull her into Ty’s office and shut the door behind me.

“Sit,” I order, guiding her into a chair, and she huffs but stays put.

Alex smiles at her, and she gives him a death glare. He doesn’t want to fuck with her right now. She’s worked up and needs an out‐ let. If she decides to use his face, I’m not go ing to stop her.

Tyson stands behind his desk, sleeves rolled up and hands shoved into the pockets of his dress slacks. He looks like a dad trying to de‐ cide how to discipline his kids. “And here I thought Sin was going to be my biggest problem.” He sighs. “Then you two show up.” Moving his hands to his hips, he glares at Eve. “What the fuck was that?”

“Tyson—”

“She’s wanted for murder, kidnapping, and sex trafficking.” He inter‐ rupts me. “The list goes on.”

“We both know she didn’t do it.” I argue. I might be pissed at my wife for the scene she just caused, but I’m going to defend her.

“They don’t know that.” Ty looks over at Colton and demands, “Where the fuck are Finn and Jenks?”

“With the girls,” Colt answers. “Making sure no police re ports will be filed.”

The door opens, and I look to see the detective who wants to frame my wife for murder enter the room, followed by some younger

guy dressed in his police uniform.

Fuck this night.

“What are the odds?” De tective Haynes comes to a stop, spotting Eve. “Officer An ders, take this woman into custody.”

“With pleasure,” the kid says, pulling the hand cuffs free from his duty belt.

Alex and Colton both stand, but I’m quicker. I re move my pock‐ etknife and flip it open. Stepping into the detective, I slam it to the hilt into his upper thigh, making him hiss. “Goddammit.”

The other pulls out his gun and trains it on me. Everyone else in the room does the same, but theirs are pointed at the young cop.

“If he touches my wife, I’m going to slice your neck open. Do you understand me?”

He swallows, his wide eyes going to the punk kid who I can see out of the corner of my eye re mains by the door with his gun pointed at me. The de tective growls, “She’s a murderer.”

I don’t deny it, twisting the knife a little. “I’m going to murder you if he touches her.”

Bar ing his teeth, he tries to catch his breath. “Stand…down,” he

tells the kid.

“But—”

“Stand down,” he shouts, and the cop puts his gun away. Everyone else keeps theirs trained at him just in case.

“Leave.” It’s Tyson who gives the order, and I yank my knife from the detective’s leg, making him grunt. It wasn’t deep enough to kill

the man, but he’ll need stitches.

“Tyson—”

“We’re in the middle of an important meeting. Get the fuck out.

Next time, you call and give me a heads-up before you walk into my club.” He glares at the kid. “And don’t ever come here dressed in uniform again.”

The detective squares his shoulders, and I smile down at him as I take my pocketknife’s bloody blade and run it over his white shirt, cleaning it off.

He turns and exits with a limp, the rent-a-cop slamming the door shut behind him. I close the knife and turn to face my wife. She sits in her seat, arms crossed over her chest with a look of hatred on her face like I did something wrong.

“You’re mar ried?” Alex chuckles, his eyes falling to both of our rings. She wasn’t wearing hers when she set up that guy for Hooke.

“Congrats, man,” he adds, putting his gun away.

“Thanks,” I say dryly. “It’s a blast. You should try it.”

She arches a brow at my sarcasm. I can practically see the steam rolling off her, she’s so heated.

“I can see that.” His laughter grows louder.

“You two —”

“Don’t worry, Ty. We won’t be coming back for a while. I’m putting my wife under house arrest.”

Eve snorts like I can’t keep her in one place. The collar and chain in my base ment prove other wise.

“I guarantee he’s waiting for you guys in the parking lot. Already called in re inforcements. And probably has a roadblock set up to stop you and ar rest her,” Tyson says. “You can take my car. Lake can come get me, and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“Give me your keys.” I reach out my hand to my wife, and she digs in her clutch before tossing them at me even though my hand is right in front of her. She’s silently beg ging me to take my belt to her ass when we get out of here.

I bend down, pick up her keys off the floor, and hand them to Colton. “Drive her car.” Then I turn to Alex and give him mine. “Ride my bike. Keep them busy.”

“Meaning?” Alex questions for clarification.

“Slow them down. Speed them up. Anything to keep them off our asses so they don’t follow. I don’t care if you have to crash it or get ar rested. I’ll pay your medical bills or bail you out.”

“Got it.” He nods and Colton just smiles.

I grab my wife’s hand, yank her from the seat, and leave the office, letting the door shut behind us.

We were able to slip into Tyson’s car and get out of there with out any is sues. Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling up to the mo tel. She gets out, slams the door, and enters room 111.

I exit much slower and check my phone to see if the guys had any problems, but I don’t have any texts or missed calls. It makes me even more nervous. Why didn’t he chase us?

This is exactly why I didn’t take us to her house or mine. I figured he might be waiting there for us.

I walk into the mo tel room to find her sitting on the bench. I stand in front of her, my ass resting on the dresser the TV sits on with my arms crossed over my chest. “Want to tell me what tonight was about?”

Her pretty green eyes glare up at me. “I find it hypo critical that you’re mad at me for hitting a bitch who wanted to fuck you, yet you stabbed a man who was going to touch me.”

I want to laugh at her logic but instead I explain the obvious. “One, I’m not going to fuck anyone but you. Two, he was going to ar rest you. And three, I was re ferring to you going to Blackout tonight in

the first place.”

She looks away. “I wanted a drink.”

“Bullshit,” I argue and she huffs. When she re mains silent, I add, “Adam called me—”

She gives a rough laugh, getting to her heels. “I fuck ing knew it.”

“Eve—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She walks toward the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” I bark, pushing off the dresser.

“The bar—”

I grab a hold of her upper arm and yank her back, cutting her off.

“No, you’re not.”

“Let go of me,” she growls, trying to push me away.

I shove her onto the bed, and she tries to kick me, but I manage to push her leg out of the way, grab her arm, and flip her onto her stomach. I grasp both of her arms and pin them behind her back.

“What the fuck is wrong?” I demand.

Adam told me, but I want her to open up to me. She has about other parts of her life, why not this? Did he mean some thing to her?

He said that she didn’t re member, but maybe she lied to him. Maybe she thought it meant some thing to him and when he explained it didn’t, it hurt her.

She softens under my hold, but I don’t fall for it. In stead, I hold her in place. If I let go, she’ll try to hit or kick me. Worse, I haven’t checked to see if she’s carrying. She might have a gun strapped to her chest for all I know. I don’t want to get shot tonight.

I lean over her body. “Eve —”

She rises up and slams the back of her head into my face. I let go of her and stum ble back as my vision is mo mentarily taken away from me. It doesn’t matter how lightly you get hit in the nose; it al‐ ways makes your eyes water.

“Fuck,” I groan, cupping it to see if it’s bleeding.

The sound of the door slamming shut tells me she’s gone to the bar, because I’ve got Tyson’s car keys in my pocket. I guess she could hitchhike, but I’d put my money on her over any unlucky bas‐ tard who offers to give her a ride.

She’s still feeling emotions from the drugs that fucking bastard dropped on her thigh. I’ll have to fuck it out of her later. Tied up tightly with her cunt and ass stuffed should change her attitude quick.

I don’t follow her. In stead, I go to the bathroom and turn on the sink, grabbing a towel and getting it wet before holding it to my face. Glancing up, I re move it to look in the mirror, and I’m surprised that it’s not bleeding. She didn’t hit me as hard as she could have.

Good one, angel.

I smile, turning the water off and tossing the towel into the sink.

My girl wants to play. I’ll make sure to play with her.

Ex iting the room, I go to Tyson’s trunk and pop it open. “Bingo.” I smile to myself, reach ing in and grabbing the bag. You can al ways count on a Lord to have the essentials on him at all times.

Closing the trunk, I make my way back into the mo tel room. I pull out my cell and go to my music. Seconds later, “Even If It Kills Me” by Papa Roach fills the small room.

I throw the bag onto the bed and unzip it. I’ll be ready to play with my girl when she gets back.