by Samantha Bee
Deadly Chaos
Steel Roses Book Two
Samantha Bee
Copyright © 2021 Samantha Bee
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Outlined With Love Designs
This book is for every single person out there who has fallen so low they felt like giving up was the only answer.
You’re not alone.
I see you, I hear you, I feel for you.
Don’t be afraid to reach out for help.
It may not always feel like it, but the world is a better place with you in it.
Sometimes it feels like the world is ending, that we aren't enough. Sometimes we just need someone else to remind us that sun will still rise tomorrow and that no matter what, just by being ourselves, we are enough.
There are different types of strength, including in letting yourself be weak, in accepting help when you need it, in letting someone else hold your broken pieces while you try to figure this life shit out.
Being vulnerable is not a flaw.
If you've been that low, if these words hit a little too close to home, this book is for you.
I hope Scar's journey resonates with you like it has with me.
U.S. National Suicide Prevention
Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 Resources: suicidepreventionlifeline.org
U.K. National Suicide Prevention
Hotline: 116 123
Resources: samaritans.org
Australian National Suicide Prevention
Hotline: 13 11 14
Resources: www.lifeline.org.au
Canadian Suicide Prevention
Hotline: 1-833-456-4566
Resources: www.crisisservicescanada.ca/en
Playlist
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TP6iN8AeoS6Wj14TYLew5?si=qDEY0d9vT5Wzyezs9yd77Q
Foreword
Deadly Chaos is the second book in the contemporary new adult series, Steel Roses. If you have not read the first book of this series, Shattered Chaos, I highly recommend putting this book down and picking that one up. The story picks up where the last one left off and will not make sense if you haven’t read it.
It is a reverse harem, meaning the female protagonist has three or more love interests and will not be forced to choose. It is intended for mature audiences and contains themes of violence and revenge, high steam, and foul language. If the word “fuck” offends you, go ahead and just close this book, yeah?
In addition, this series is the first in a saga titled A World of Chaos. There will be character and plot crossover but each can be read on their own. The saga will include a variety of RH, MF, and other types of relationships.
Trigger Warnings: This book contains content that may be triggering for some, including violence, assault, sexual abuse, mentions of the abuse of children and/or minors, and suicidal thoughts. This book is labeled as dark romance for a reason, please take this into consideration before reading. This book does get darker than Shattered Chaos, especially with dark thoughts and mental health, as well as graphic descriptions of violence.
Prologue
8 years ago
My body shakes. My stomach roils. My chest tightens. I can feel myself losing control, an increasing pressure pushing in on me from all sides, dragging me down into a dark abyss I never realized I had within myself.
Kade steps into my view and bends down so his golden-green eyes are locked on mine. Even at only seventeen, the guy’s a beast. He’s so tall he practically has to bend in half to meet my eyes. I can see the concern swirling there, the need to make things okay for me. He wants to be able to take away my pain so badly. But he can’t, no one can.
I feel warmth spread across my back and know that Luca has joined us. They must silently come to an agreement as they both press me between their bodies. Luca is only an inch or two shorter than Kade and they both tower over me. The warmth of their combined bodies swallows me whole. My heart rate slows, and I can feel the trembling begin to stop.
These two are the only ones I can even allow to be close to me, let alone touch me. The physical touch of anyone else sends me into a spiral, but not my two giants. My protectors. My secret guardians for a lot longer than they think I know. I always knew they watched me, they just seemed so far out of my reach.
Until I came here, that is.
It’s been one month since I was released from the hospital and placed into this group home. Five months since my home was destroyed, nothing left but bad memories and ash. Five months since my entire family died, nothing more but the scars they left on my soul.
Being pressed between Kade and Luca is the closest I’ve felt to peace since that night. The only form of comfort I have left. They take the edge off my panic attack, and I can start thinking clearly again. I catch a glimpse of the three of us huddled together in the mirror and sigh. It’s no surprise I had one today. The sight of my uniform on my body feels like a knife to the gut, and trust me, I know how that feels.
Every time I catch sight of the white fabric tucked into my red skirt, I’m reminded of just how far I’ve fallen. I haven’t seen or heard from my peers in months. Not since the accident. Not even Charles, my supposed boyfriend. He said his parents hadn’t allowed him to see me in the hospital, that there was too much media. I call bullshit. He was probably too busy fucking Jackie. It hurts. Another mark against my being. One more wound inflicted on my heart. I don’t even think I love him, but we promised to always be friends first, to not lose the friendship we had. I thought he would always be the friend that had my back at the very least, even if he was supposed to be more.
The thought of him with someone else shouldn’t hurt. Or should it? I don’t think it hurts the way it’s supposed to. It’s just more people abandoning me. The deep sense of loss and loneliness growing more cavernous every day until it feels like it will consume me until it’s all that's left. My brain and heart are so turned around I don’t know how I am supposed to feel about anything anymore. I don’t think I should be taking comfort in two boys from foster care and yet, here we are. Without them I feel completely and totally alone. Like no one would care if I just drifted into the smoke and followed my family.
I spend more time wondering why I couldn’t have just died in that fire than thinking about anything else. In my darkest moments, I curse the unknown neighbor that saved me, wishing I were no longer here. A part of me hates to admit that those low points are an everyday occurrence, but the majority of me just can’t bring myself to care about much.
Except the two boys surrounding me, wrapping me in their comfort.
“Don’t go,” Kade whispers into my hair. It makes me giggle because we’ve had this conversation every day since I found out I was going back.
“You know she has to,” Luca chastises, and I hear the telltale sign that he smacked Kade upside the head. It makes me giggle more. He nuzzles into my shoulder. “I wish you would laugh more.”
I sigh. “I’m trying,” I promise him. Them both. It’s not a lie. Not really. I’m still here. Fighting for every breath I take. Gripping to reality with a fierceness I didn’t know I possessed. Doing my absolute best to not fade even if I’m not ready to be okay yet.
I want to feel this pain. Feel it for my sisters, for my sweet, sweet Harlee and Marnye. For myself. I need to feel this pain, this ache d
eep in my chest where my soul used to reside. I need the reminder that I’m still alive. Everyone thinks pain is this negative thing, but you can’t feel the hurt if you’re dead. I’m thankful for the aches even if I sometimes still wish I hadn’t survived.
“I’m ready.” I lie to my two friends. Maybe the only two friends I have. They can’t come with me to school though, and I don’t want them to worry. I haven’t told them the worst of it yet.
The world thinks my mother snapped after years of abuse, the last straw being my father turning his fists on me. No one knows the truth of what happened in my father’s office. No one knows the level of abuse I took. The torment and degradation my body was put through. No one knows we weren’t alone. No one knows that the men who took my innocence are probably the fathers of some of my peers. No one knows that sending me back to the academy is akin to throwing me into shark infested waters, and they’ve already scented my blood.
The pieces are still fuzzy, and they don’t fit together quite right. Everyday more and more of my torture comes back clearer. Every day the small swirl of violence that thrashes where my heart should be, grows just a little bit stronger. Takes a little bit of the numbness away.
Mostly I still feel grief if I’m feeling anything at all. Grief. Pain. Loss. Guilt. But under all of that is something else. Something powerful. Something waiting for me to be strong enough to wield it. Something that will help me right the wrongs of rich, powerful men. Rage.
Chapter One
Present
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen any of the guys. Kade’s words still haunt me every moment I’m awake. Honestly, they follow me into my dreams as well.
The nightmares have only gotten worse. I hoped that by putting the distance between us, I would be able to build back up my walls that locked my demons away. That hasn’t been the case at all. I wake up every night panting and sweating. I can’t remember the last time I got a good night's sleep.
Maybe the last time I saw them? I shake my head. I don’t have the time to be thinking about this right now. I can’t miss them. I’m too scarred, too fucking broken to miss them. We will all be better off if I just stay the fuck away.
I creep silently to the window at the back of the house that I scouted earlier. The world will be better off once I finish this job. This sick piece of shit was one of the worst offenders I found in Romano’s database. I’m not taking any chances with him by handing him over to the police.
Fuck. He is the police. Even with the cops and agents I trust, that trust only goes so far. I sure as hell wasn’t leaving this fucker to chance.
No. He has to die. For every girl he brutalized, he has to die. I would love to torture him first, but I need this to look like natural causes to avoid an investigation. The syringe of succinylcholine will be enough to insure that.
Succinylcholine is a strong muscle relaxant that in large enough doses can cause paralysis severe enough that the victim slowly suffocates. It’s rarely ever tested for in a toxicology report and mimics the effects of a heart attack. The coroner just so happens to owe me a favor though, so I have a backup plan to ensure that it goes undetected.
I slip in through the window with ease and make my way to the front of the house where I know his bedroom is.
I find the mother fucker sitting in his office watching his sick home videos. I was planning on waiting until he fell asleep, but this is too good an opportunity to pass up. Let them find his body hunched over in front of these twisted videos he’s playing.
His department can learn just who the fuck the Chief of St Graves police department really is. A perverted psychopath who takes joy in abusing those he is sworn to protect.
It’s almost too easy to slip behind him as he focuses on the atrocities playing out on the screen in front of him. He slides his hand down his pants and stands as he pushes them off.
I could have lived my whole life without seeing this man’s ass, but I take the opportunity granted to me. It just so happens to be a great injection site and he presented it to me like he really does want to die.
I stab the syringe in and release the poison before he even realizes he isn’t alone. The succinylcholine is fast acting, and the effects are noticeable quickly.
He sputters as I shove him back into a sitting position in front of his computer. I watch as he grabs his chest, and his breathing grows more and more labored.
I lean over and whisper into his ear. “Evil men deserve only to feel the cold hands of death.”
I wait until the life fades from him before I leave through the same window. Leaving no sign I was even there.
Hollow.
Cold, aching, and completely fucking hollow.
What happened to the days where a kill revitalized me? Where I relished in the addictive rush of taking a life? Now it all just fucking hurts.
I turn the water up hotter, hoping to expel the chill that has sunk into my very bones. My skin is already a vibrant shade of red that tells me I'm burning myself. But still, I can't feel it. I don't even have the energy to sigh as the bone deep sense of loss slowly consumes me.
I rinse my hair, in no hurry to leave the scalding water. If I stay under it long enough, I can just barely start to feel the tingling of my skin. It's the most I've really been able to feel. Even burning is better than feeling nothing at all. If life has taught me anything, it's to appreciate the pain our body is capable of feeling.
The pain we can survive.
The loss we can overcome.
The strength to continue.
The last one hasn't really hit me yet. I've always been a survivor. A fighter. I've never doubted my ability to do either. My ability to succeed, to survive. Until now. For the first time ever, it feels like I just may not have the strength necessary to overcome this latest obstacle. I'm still living firmly in the haze of numbness. The heart wrenching devastation so intense it feels like nothing at all. Thinking about any of them, drives a white hot agony to sear through me, threatening to tear me apart with my regret.
Regret.
Such an interesting word. It can mean so many different things. I've lived with regrets for almost the last decade. Regretted not saving my sisters. Regretted not seeing who my father truly was before it was too late. Regretted leaving Kade. Regretted dragging Luca into my mission.
My regrets have only grown.
I'm a poison, infecting all those around me. All of the guys would have been better off if I had never got my claws into them. They wouldn't have been infected with my pure, vitriol darkness. Like a slick oil, coating their insides, slowly corrupting everything about who they are.
They're lucky I left them behind before I destroyed anything good left in them. So why do I still feel like this? So goddamn low. Like I'll never be whole again. Like I'm one misstep away from disappearing for good.
Maybe the world would be a better place if I did.
Maybe it isn't revenge that I need. Maybe it's time to give up, give in. Cave into the pain and the demons calling for my blood. Maybe the time for safe and carefully plotted kills is over and it's time to make a statement. One where I can take Romano out and follow after him. The world would be a better place without either of us.
It's fucking hard to even get up anymore. The only thing that drives me is the need for blood. I'm not willing to give up mine, not yet anyways. It gets harder and harder to make that choice as the days pass. With every kill there's this small ray of hope that it'll fill the hole in my chest. So far it hasn't. Every kill just chips away a little bit more at it. Making it grow ever wider, all the more consuming, all the harder to keep fighting.
Maybe it's time to give in.
The words whisper through my mind, a near silent, gentle coax. A sweet promise to feel something other than the ache of loneliness.
I look down and find my knife in my hands. I don't even remember getting out of the shower. Can't recall the feeling of the fluffy towel drying the water from my skin. Have no memory of slipping into an
old band t-shirt and a pair of blue lace panties. I definitely don't remember grabbing my blade.
I stare down at it, unable to draw my eyes away from the little red diamond in the handle. I fixate and I obsess. Completely oblivious to anything else, all thoughts rushing out of my head as my entire focus, my life in this moment is tied to this one single red diamond.
Everything it represents. The memories that try to break through the barriers I put up to protect myself. Memories of being a scared little girl being held together by a boy. Of doing everything side by side. Growing and becoming undefeatable together. Every step of the way, together. Who am I without him?
I bring my eyes up to the woman in the mirror. I flinch not recognizing who I find there. The same green eyes, but with no sparkle of amusement in them, not even the bloodthirsty glint I normally have after a kill. My hair hangs limply in my pale face, dripping water into my shirt. My cheekbones seem more prominent, my cheeks hollow and gaunt. My lips flat in disapproval as I study myself.
I look away, unable to face who I've become.
The sweet whispers and promises of bliss grow louder in my ears, building into a growing roar. Drowning out any other thought I could have. Promises to take the guilt, to take the pain, to take the regrets. A promise to make me forget all the regrets.
I don't even fully notice I'm digging the knife into the soft flesh of my wrist until my eye catches the vibrant red dripping down my arm. My eyes lock in on that little stream of blood, free flowing down my arm now.
The bright drops of red hit the floor, marring the white tiles. It stands out so much, it's hard to focus on anything else.