Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 82

EIGHTY-TWO

KASH TON

e enter my room, and I notice I’m still covered in blood fromW try ing to stop her from bleeding in the car on the way to Car‐ nage. “I need a shower,” I tell her, gently setting her down on her

feet.

“I’ll take one with you.”

I hate how soft her voice is. My wife likes to be heard. She speaks her mind, and she yells it for all to hear. She seems so unsure of what to do or how to act. Maybe she thinks I’m mad at her. Hones‐ tly, I’m not sure what to be. I still don’t have any answers on what the fuck happened or how it went down. But I know they’ll come.

Right now, all that matters is I’m not hallucinating and it’s not her that I buried in the Carnage cemetery.

We walk into the bathroom, and I turn to face her. “Let me help you.” I don’t give her any room to argue, and thankfully she doesn’t try to fight me. I grip the hem of my T-shirt that she wears and pull it up over her head care ful with her arms. Then I push the sweat‐ pants down her legs and help her step out of them. She’s naked un‐ derneath.

I scan over her right thigh. There’s a fresh scar and bruise. Running my hands up her hips and over her ribs, I look at the new bandage that I know covers the fresh stitches that go from her shoulder to her underarm.

Then there’s another scar and bruise on her upper arm. They match the body that I found on the floor of the cathedral, the one on the tape, where I watched her get shot. My hands go to her neck, and she arches it for me as I run my fin gers over her throat to

check for bruises. There are none. It has been three weeks, though.

A gunshot wound would leave longer visual effects than whatever they used to strangle her. That just makes me even more confused.

How could there be a body that had the same matching injuries?

I know I didn’t imagine all of that. The guys were there. Devin bathed her, brought some one in to embalm her before he helped me bury her. I watched her get shot three times in the fuck ing video.

I think I’m going insane.

“Kashton.” She wraps her soft hands around my wrists when mine begin to shake on her neck. “Talk to me.” Her worried eyes search mine.

There’s so much I want to ask her, but I’m not sure if I want the answers. I went to a dark place when I thought she’d died. If I ask her questions, she’ll ask me some as well. And I don’t want to an‐ swer them. “Come on.” I let go of her and step into the shower, turn ing on the sprayer, checking the tem perature of the water. I help her inside and then I hurry to undress and en ter behind her.

“I don’t think I can get this wet.” She gestures to the fresh ban‐ dage.

“I’ll be care ful,” I as sure her before quickly washing off the blood and then turn to grab her shampoo. I squirt it into my hand. I haven’t thrown any of her stuff away. I just couldn’t get rid of her pres ence. I wanted the re minder that she was all mine. Even if it was for such a short time. When I left this world, I wanted to make sure all our stuff was in the same place she had it.

“Sit on the bench.” She slowly sits down and turns the best she can to give me her back. Lather ing it in my hands, I begin to shampoo

her hair.

EVERETT We both re main silent in the shower. My mind is racing as quickly as my pulse, but I don’t know what to say or how to act.

I’m afraid things have changed. What were they talking about when I walked in there? What does he know that I don’t?

Getting out of the shower, I allow him to dry me off. He’s treating me as if I’m incapable of taking care of myself. Maybe I am. Will he

chain me up in the basement after this? That way he al ways knows where I’m at and I can’t put myself in danger?

I’d let him. If it meant I’d never see him like he was in the mo tel again.

We enter his bed room, and he pulls back the covers, gesturing for me to crawl in. I drop the towel and slide into the cool sheets.

He climbs in beside me. I’m not sure what day it is, much less what time it is. The curtains to his balcony are open and it’s dark out.

Lying side by side, the silence eats at me, and I know he wants to turn on the TV.

He drapes his arm across my chest, and I flinch. “I’m sorry,” comes his voice.

“I’m fine,” I as sure him. I’m not some delicate flower, and being shot doesn’t change that. I want him to know that I’m still the same woman he wanted to marry.

I sit up, ignor ing the sting in my chest and shove the covers away as I straddle him.

“Angel,” he warns, and his hands go to my hips. I have a mo ment of panic that he’s going to shove me away. Deny me.

His fear is aban donment and mine is for him to stop loving me. I never knew it could be like this. I’ve become dependent on him and can’t imagine a life with out him.

“I didn’t know you thought I was dead,” I say softly. My nails gently run up and down his chest. I know how it sounded. My goodbye call to him. But that was in case I didn’t walk out of there. I would have never wanted to put him through that unless I re ally was dead.

“But you were willing to die for me,” he counters.

I bite my bottom lip ner vously. “You would do the same for me.”

“As your husband, that’s my job.”

“No. Your job as my husband is to love me unconditionally.”

I feel him shift, and then the light on his night stand turns on. He places his hands on my face and frowns. “You think I don’t love you anymore?” I open my mouth, but he continues. “I…” He looks away for a second be fore he glances back at me. “I was a wreck with out you, Eve.” I swallow the knot that lodges in my throat, re membering the call I over heard with Saint and Adam. How Kash had killed their

prisoners and left. “I was so mad at you…” He closes his eyes. “For leaving me.” He looks up at me, and my chest tightens think ing of him in that motel all alone. “You may not have died, but you willingly walked into an ambush knowing damn well that you might not walk

out.”

“Kashton—”

“And that fuck ing voice mail,” he adds with a growl.

So, he heard that. “Kash—”

“I begged you not to do it.” He interrupts me again. “To give me time to save you.”

“That’s what they wanted. They were going to kill you.”

“Why?” he questions, his brows draw ing together in confu sion.

“What did they want from me that you thought you could give them?”

I frown at his question. He makes it sound like he al ready knows.

“I…I don’t know,” I say hones tly. “There was a text…and I knew it was either you or me.”

“It’s always me,” he grinds out. “In any situ ation like that. It’s me.”

“Is that why you were going to kill your self?” I ask.

He glances away and his jaw sharpens.

I place my hands flat on his chest and dig my nails into his skin.

“Tell me how that’s any different, Kashton.”

He snorts. “The sad part is you actu ally expected me to go on with‐

out you. As if I didn’t lose my wife.”

“I wasn’t dead.”

“I didn’t know that,” he snaps, and his body tenses underneath me.

Running his hand down his un shaven face, he sighs and re laxes back into the mattress. I scan his stitches, thankful one of the doctors was able to help him. “I buried you, Eve.”

“I wanted to be cre mated.” I smile down at him, try ing to lighten the mood about a pre vious conver sa tion we had, but it doesn’t work.

“I begged a God I don’t believe in to bring you back.” His sad eyes stare into mine. “I haven’t done that since I was a child.”

“Well, if He exists, He heard you,” I try to joke again.

He lets out a long breath. “To morrow morn ing, I’m digging up that body and we’re going to get to the bottom of this, because it was

you. And you were dead.”

I take his hand and gently place it on my bare chest. “I’m right here.” I know he can feel my heart pounding. “Alive. In this bed with you right now.”

His hand trails up and then runs through my wet hair. “I feel like I’m going to wake up from this dream and you’ll still be gone.” He speaks softly, as if he’s too ashamed to say it out loud.

Tears sting my eyes at his confes sion. I lean down and press my lips to his, giving him a soft kiss.

His hands find my hair, and he holds it back when I part my lips for him. He deepens the kiss, and I swallow the urge to cry. I can’t imag ine what he went through. Or how he felt. But I don’t want him to feel that now. I’m not going anywhere.

I grind my hips on his and he gently pulls on my hair lifting my lips

from his. “We can’t,” he breathes.

“I’ll go slow,” I tell him.

“Eve,” he growls when I reach between us and begin to stroke his dick. I didn’t expect him to be hard. He’s too concerned about me after what happened at the mo tel. But he was on top and had no

idea what was happening.

“I’ll con trol it.” I lick my lips.

“No. You won’t.” He grabs my wrists and re moves my hand from his soft dick.

My stomach drops when he gently lifts me up and places me next to him. I lie down while he rolls onto his side to face me. His hand gently brushes my wet hair from my face. “I love you, Eve. More than anything in the world, but I’m not fuck ing you.”

I gently nod at the re jec tion. “I…I would if you needed it.”

He sighs heavily. “You al most died again because of me. This has nothing to do with needs. It has to do with your life, and I won’t risk it. Never again.”