The Devil’s Chaos (The Brotherhood #2)

9. Nine

9

NINE

HAVEN

M y body trembled with anger and excitement as I watched the blue-eyed stalker slash pain in my ass leave through my front door.

As he walked away, I heard him holler over his shoulder, “Make sure to ice that pretty face of yours.”

I taunted him, sticking out my tongue, before quickly locking the door behind him before he changed his mind and stumbled back in.

But then the realization that he had managed to get past my locked door sent a shiver down my spine. I frantically searched for something to barricade it with, my heart pounding in my chest. I grabbed a chair from the dining room table and jammed it under the handle before stepping back to admire my makeshift barrier.

His scent still surrounded me, taunting me with hints of tobacco and sandalwood, caressing my senses, and lingering in the air like a ghost. Even though he royally pissed me off, I felt an odd sense of emptiness in his absence and a strange longing for his overwhelming and all-consuming presence.

His piercing blue eyes seemed to haunt me as I tried to push away the images of him flashing in my mind. I replayed our conversation while grabbing ice cubes from the freezer and wincing as I pressed them against my bruised face. Sulking back into bed, I left the balcony doors open, slid back into my cool sheets, and wrapped myself in my fluffy blanket.

He knew about Alex hitting me, but how? Had he witnessed our altercation in the hallway? Had he been there the entire time, watching me from a distance…watching me as Gerald forced himself on me?

The fire.

No, he couldn’t have been the reason the club caught on fire… could he?

My heart pounded in my chest as I fought to stay awake, replaying the night's events over and over in my mind. But in the end, exhaustion settled in, and I drifted into a deep sleep, my dreams plagued with him.

Birds chirping loudly and obnoxiously through my open balcony doors woke me from sleep. I groaned and mumbled words of disdain as I swatted my unruly hair away from my eyes. His presence lingered in the room, like a ghost haunting the edges of my consciousness. I could almost feel his breath on my skin and hear his deep voice whispering in my ear. Any average person would be terrified of him, of the power he held over me with just a glance. But instead, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him in a way I couldn’t explain. There was something magnetic about him, something that called to me on a primal level.

As I reluctantly got out of bed, the makeshift ice pack fell to the floor and spilled water all over the rug.

Fuck me.

Cursing a few more times, I groaned in frustration, my head spinning from the alcohol, and bent down to pick up the empty bag. After I discarded it, I laid a towel down, blotted up the water, and threw the wet towel in the dirty laundry basket in my closet. I checked my cell phone to see multiple missed calls and texts from my brother.

Why aren’t you answering?

Where are you?

You better answer, or I’m coming over.

CALL ME!!!

Fuck me twice.

Alex got angry when I didn’t respond to him in a timely fashion. My guess was he was already on his way over here, which meant I needed to make a decision: call him and hope he wasn’t outside my door, or wait for him to knock on my front door, which would quickly turn into forcing himself inside.

I opted to call him and crossed my fingers and toes, hoping he wasn’t heading up to my apartment right now.

The phone rang twice and answered.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring my phone calls?”

“I was sleeping,” I reply, trying to calm my voice.

“I don’t care what you’re doing. You answer when I call.”

“Okay, Alex. Sorry.”

“I was on my way to see you, but since you called me back, I’ll make this quick,” he snapped impatiently. “Someone set that fire at the club, and the camera footage was sabotaged. We’re looking into it, but for now, we’ll plan on finding an alternative location while repairs and renovations are completed. I’ll text you the location of the temporary club when I have it. Also, something has come up, and I need you to free up your evening.”

“I’m not really feeling well after you and one of our father’s esteemed guests gave me a concussion.”

“Are you talking back to me?”

I stayed silent.

“I don’t care if you have a broken leg. I need you to do what I asked. Am I clear?”

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes.

“Jesus. Tonight, there’s a party at the quarry near St. Mary’s, and I need you to go and hand out party favors and keep an eye on a couple of people.”

“Who?” I dared to ask.

“Just some douchebag from The Brotherhood.”

‘Archer King,’ I said in my head.

I already knew the minute he said The Brotherhood that the man set to inherit his father’s empire, and the one my brother constantly bitched about would be who he would have me follow.

I pulled my phone from my ear and opened his text message. Archer had dark hair and the greenest eyes, similar to mine, and tattoos covering him from head to toe. He was actually pretty hot. But my thoughts immediately went back to my stalker.

“His name is Archer King. I need you to go to the party, get everyone high, and watch what he is doing and who he is with. I want you to text me with everything he and his little bitch-ass friends are doing. If they go and take a piss, you follow. If they scratch their nuts, I want to know if it was the left or right. Got it?”

“Since when do you want me involved in the family business?”

“I’m sorry, I think you must have me confused with some chode who allows women to talk back or ask questions. Do I need to hit you again and knock some fucking sense into you?” he growled.

My head was pounding, and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to his constant, whiny voice. I had so much on my mind; for some reason, the filter from my brain to my mouth decided now was the best time to stop working.

“If you want to lose a hand in the process, by all means.”

Fuck.

I put my fist in my mouth and dramatically spun as my heart thudded in my chest.

“Are you threatening me, Haven?”

“Not a threat, but a promise. You’re lucky I didn’t go running to our father and show him how you bruised his favorite bargaining tool,” I challenged, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jesus, Haven. Get it together. Why the fuck can’t I keep my mouth shut?

There was a moment of tense silence on the other end before Alex spoke again, his voice dangerously low. The voice he used when exercising extreme restraint to control his emotions didn’t happen often, but when it did, something terrible was about to happen.

I held my breath and bit my lip to stop myself from saying something snarky back, knowing that he could make things so much worse for me if I didn't stop now.

“The party starts at sundown. Dress like the slut you are, and keep in touch.”

The phone call ended, and I let out the breath that had been stagnant in my chest, doing my best to fill my lungs.

My mouth really would be my cause of death one day.

At least then, my nightmare of a life would finally be over.