The Princess of Chaos Copyright © 2020
Candice Wright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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For T
I’d take a bullet for you. Well, a Nerf bullet, but that still counts right?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Sneak Peek: The Queen of Carnage
Also by Candice Wright
Acknowledgments
About the Author
When they tell you that you can’t do it,
Do it twice.
Chapter One
Megan
Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. I chant silently to myself, feeling nausea swirl inside me as my legs threaten to buckle in protest of every step I take.
I might not be able to hear the sound of my heart rapidly trying to beat its way out of my chest, but I sure can feel it. With each of my hands firmly held by the imposing bikers either side of me, I find myself being led out of the Carnage clubhouse towards the two shiny black Harleys parked near the huge iron gates that protect the Kings of Carnage property from the outside world.
The Carnage MC members look dark and formidable as they part to let us through. None of them are happy with this shitty situation, but we all know my going with two Chaos Demons is the only way this truce between the two clubs will work.
The Kings of Carnage won’t attack the Chaos Demons and risk me getting hurt. In return, the Chaos Demons won’t damage their shiny new pawn and run the risk of Carnage burning their compound to the ground in retaliation.
The Carnage members watch me avidly, looking for any signal that I might need them to step in. The risk is too high to let that happen, so I keep my eyes focused forward, pull my shoulders back, and hold my head up high. Fake it until you make it, right?
I watch as the man they call Viper, the new president of the Chaos Demons, the club that is home to most of my nightmares, climbs onto one of the chrome beasts and waits. Zero, the guy still holding my hand, lets go before placing both of his hands gently on my waist and lifting me behind Viper.
I loosely grip Viper’s waist and turn to look back towards the Carnage clubhouse where both my brothers stand with their arms crossed over their chests and angry scowls adorn their faces. Standing between them is my best friend Luna, the soon-to-be mother of my niece or nephew. That little baby is the reason I’m on the back of this bike, heading back to the Chaos Demons’ clubhouse, the very place I spent so long trying to escape.
Oh, Luna would have come instead of me. She tried fighting me over it, knowing just how much going back there was going to kill me, but I would be fucking damned if I let anyone I love anywhere near that godforsaken place. It had already taken so much from me. I refuse to let it take anymore.
Don’t throw up. Just think of the truce, I remind myself. My reluctant stay at Chaos is the only way to ensure peace between our clubs. At least until they can learn to trust each other.
My eyes lock onto Luna. If I have to play at being a pawn for a little while so the queen doesn’t sacrifice herself, then so be it.
I try to blank my emotions but I know she sees right through me when she starts signing.
You’ve got this. You are so fucking strong that I’m humbled by you. I have a feeling you’re going to bring that club and those men to their knees.
I frown in confusion. What is she trying to say?
Time to take back that crown, sweetheart.
I snort and roll my eyes at that. I might have been raised as a Chaos Demon but I was far from their princess.
Oh, and Megan, I have eyes on you. Take care.
My eyes widen at her words. Things to know about my friend? She could be batshit crazy when she wanted to be, and she was ridiculously protective.
What did you do? I sign to her.
Say hi to my brothers for me. She smiles and I can't help it, I smile back. Luna’s brothers Oz and Zig are as crazy as she is.
I can tell when Viper starts the bike, feeling the engine vibrate as it comes to life beneath me. He pulls away, making me hold his waist tightly. Unable to sign anymore, I offer Luna a reassuring wink as we leave behind my family and head back to the hellhole I was raised in.
I tighten my grip and swallow the bile in my throat. One hour. That’s how long I have until everything I thought I had survived gets a second chance to start taking shots at my soul.
The hour passes in the blink of an eye, my nerves growing as I recognize where we are. I turn my head in the direction of the compound, but instead of turning right towards it, we veer left and continue down a gravel road for a few miles until we pull up outside a small wood-stained cabin with a wraparound porch. I remember this building from when I was a kid, but I’ve never been inside it.
The bikes stop and the vibrations cut out as the engine shuts down. I look around and see nothing but trees filled with pretty blooms of baby pink and crisp white cherry blossoms that sway in the early spring breeze.
As pretty as it is, I can’t help the shiver that travels down my spine at how isolated it is here.
I eye Zero warily as he climbs off his bike and offers me his hand. I stare at it for a beat, like it’s covered in flesh-eating ants, before slipping mine into his. He helps me slide off as Viper holds the bike steady. When I try to pull away from Zero, he tightens his grip, making me swallow hard. I stop tugging and let him hold my hand, for now, quickly reminding myself to pick my battles wisely.
Zero says something to Viper, but he’s not looking directly at me so I can't read what he’s saying. Whatever it is, Viper nods in agreement as he climbs off his bike. He jogs up the steps and opens the door, holding it for us to pass through.
Zero finally lets go of my hand, so I quickly wrap my arms around myself before he can snag it again.
It's dark in here, now that the evening is drawing in, so Viper flicks a lamp on, bathing the place in artificial light.
I take in the large space, all open, one-room seamlessly leading into the next so you can see everyone no matter where you are.
The living room seems cozy enough—‘lived in’ is the phrase that pops to mind—with a couple of brown leather sofas facing a large flat-screen television that’s mounted on the wall above a huge brick fireplace.
Just in front of that is a dark wood coffee table situated in the perfect position to put your feet up while you kick back and watch TV. Judging by the empty beer bottle
s and pizza boxes that litter the top of it, I would say this space is very well used.
A hand on my shoulder has me reacting before my brain can kick in. Lucky for me, Zero’s reflexes kick in just as quickly and he catches my fist swinging towards him before it connects with his jaw.
“Shit!” His lips form the words as he glares at me. I look down, embarrassed, and wait for him to let go of my hand. A finger under my chin tips it up until I’m eye to eye with his pretty green ones. My eyes drop to his lips when he starts speaking.
“You react like that a lot, or just for handsome bikers like myself?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.
I don’t answer him, obviously, but he refuses to let go of my chin, searching my eyes, for what, I have no idea.
“We can’t sign at all, so this is fucking hard.”
A movement out of the corner of my eye has me pulling free from Zero’s hold to face Viper, who is walking towards me with a pen and notebook in his hands.
“You write, though, yeah?”
I snatch the paper and scribble fast, letting my anger take over. I shove it against his chest and stomp over to one of the sofas, sitting down on the edge of it so I can keep my eyes on them both.
Viper reads my words, “No, I’m a dumb illiterate bitch.”
“Being deaf doesn’t make you stupid, asshole,” he continues to read before he lifts his head and glares at me, then stomps over. I swallow hard when he grips my chin, which he doesn’t miss. Sighing, he loosens his hold and makes sure I’m watching him before he speaks.
“You can make your time here as easy or as difficult as you like, Megan, but making an enemy out of Zero and me won't do you any favors.”
I hold my hand out for the stupid notepad and when he gives it to me, I start to write.
I don’t need any favors from you. I’m afraid to even ask what the price of a favor would cost me. No, I think I will take my chances, just keeping myself to myself.
I hold the paper up for him to read. He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else.
What are the rules? I write and wait for him to read it.
“What are the rules for you while you are here?” he clarifies, making me nod.
“Tonight, you will stay here. Zero and I will head over to the compound and make everyone aware of what is going on. You will have a prospect on you, so don’t even think about running.”
I flip him off. I won’t run without provocation. I’ll never willingly put my family in any unnecessary danger.
He reaches out, grips my hair, and pulls me up until his face is as close to mine as it can get while remaining just far enough away for me to be able to read his lips.
“Be very careful with that attitude of yours, Megan. It doesn’t matter what you think of Zero and me, or this club. It doesn’t change the fact that I am the goddamn president and you will treat me and my brothers with some fucking respect.” The vibrations of his voice rumble over my skin. He lets go of my hair and pushes me back down onto the arm of the sofa before taking a step back.
“Tomorrow we will be moving into the compound.”
My face must pale because his aggression disappears.
“You’ll be safe there, Megan. The Chaos Demons have enemies and while we are sorting through this shit, I will feel better knowing that you are protected.”
I don’t respond. He has no clue what being back behind those gates will do to me and I doubt very much that I will be any safer in there than I will out here.
What about work? I write.
“You can still go to work, you just need someone with you. Give us a week to get you settled in and I’ll make sure someone is available to take you every day, okay?”
I nod my agreement, knowing that if they wanted to they could stop me from going completely. My shop is my baby. I can't stand the thought of not being able to be there. Thankfully, I haven’t reopened it yet since all the shit that went down with Stokey, that traitor my brothers knew as Weasel. I’ve just been doing the cleanup. It’s ready now but another week won’t hurt in the grand scheme of things, being as Wyatt is still filling and shipping orders from the warehouse.
“That will do for now. You grew up in an MC, Megan, you know the rest of the rules. They all still apply to you.”
I turn when Zero steps up to me and snags a piece of hair and starts twirling it around his fingers.
“—Food in the fridge.” I catch the words on his lips, missing the start as I was too busy trying unsuccessfully to pull my hair back.
“There are three rooms. Find a bed and crash. There is no point waiting up for us; it's going to be a long-ass night,” he tells me, letting go of my hair and stepping back. They both turn to the door and stare at it for a moment. Viper heads towards it and pulls it open, revealing a red-haired guy an inch or two shorter than Viper’s six-foot-three frame. He looks to be the same height as Zero, maybe six-one, at a guess. I take in how differently they all look. Viper, with his inky black hair and ice-blue eyes that are intense and laser-focused. And then you have Zero with his deep mischievous green eyes and I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-this-way sexy blond hair. A redhead, a brunette, and a blonde. Sounds like the beginning of a joke. Lord, please don’t let me be the punch line.
The leather jacket, or cut as the MC calls them, the redhead is wearing has a badge declaring him a prospect, which surprises me. He has an air of confidence about him that you don’t usually get when you are the lowest ranking person on the premises, and that’s basically what a prospect is. They’re little more than glorified servants until they prove their worth and their loyalty.
Viper says something to him. I can’t make out what it is from here, but the prospect nods and heads back outside.
“Be good, Megan,” Zero tells me before making his way over to Viper and out the door. Viper throws a look my way that I can't decipher before following Zero out and closing the door behind him.
I take a deep breath and crumple to the sofa.
Shit, shit, shit. I can't do this. Lifting a shaky hand, I wipe a stray tear from my face, born more from frustration than fear. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself down. I need to mentally prep for what’s going to happen tomorrow.
I close my eyes and count to ten, breathing in slow and deep, fighting down the memories that try to make themselves known. I have fought too damn hard and long to make my way out of the darkness to give in so easily now.
Growing up in the heart of the Chaos Demons’ territories taught me many lessons. How to be seen and not heard. How to keep my mouth shut and my head down. How to blend in. It worked for the most part—except when it came to Crogan. Being the president's daughter should have offered me some kind of protection, but for that, my father would have had to acknowledge my existence, wouldn’t he? Most of my life, I thought my mother was one of the club girls who had gotten pregnant, much to the disgust of his old lady Wanda. It wasn’t until years later that I learned the truth. My father wasn’t my father at all. That title belonged to the recently disgraced and deceased Joker—the former president of the Kings of Carnage. It also came to light that my mother wasn’t so much a club whore as she was a hostage, as I, her only daughter, was held as ransom.
I don’t know who is privy to the truth, or if they will even care. Despite everything, nothing can change that my mother killed the president of the Chaos Demons and his stepson, Crogan, before turning the gun on herself. The whys don’t matter anymore, if they ever really did to begin with.
I stand and shake off my bleak mood. Strolling down memory lane changes nothing. I walk over to the clean, if slightly dated, kitchen and open the fridge before slamming it shut again. Eating with my churning stomach is not a good idea. I look over to the huge TV before turning to the hallway, which leads to the bedrooms and decide to just sleep the rest of this fucked-up day away before the worries eat me from the inside out.
The hall has two doors on each side. One reveals a bathroom, the other three lead to masculine bedrooms.
I pick the one on the other side of the bathroom as it looks into the woods at the back and is the farthest away from the prospect stationed at the door.
The room is tidy and the bed is made, which is good enough for me. Lord knows I’ve slept in worse.
I tug open one of the drawers of a tall pine dresser and find some T-shirts. Snagging the first one my hand touches, I take it with me to the white nondescript bathroom and take a quick shower after making sure the door is locked behind me. I’m as quick as I can be, drying myself off with a huge navy blue towel before donning the soft gray T-shirt I’ve claimed to sleep in. It falls to my knees and covers everything it needs to in order to preserve my modesty. Not that I think they will try anything after how hard they pushed for this truce between the two clubs. Me being here is meant to keep the peace between them until they learn to trust each other.
Besides, fondling the Carnage president and VP’s sister the first night she is under their roof wouldn’t do them any favors. I take a quick look in the mirror and take in my pale face and wide, large blue eyes that are so much like my brothers’, noticing just how tired and stressed out I appear.
My long black curly hair reaches all the way down my back and at the moment, is beginning to soak the back of my T-shirt. I quickly braid it before moving to switch off the light and heading back to the room with my clothes bundled under my arm. Tossing them on top of the dresser, I climb between the cool black and gray checkered cotton sheets. I doubt I will be able to sleep. With so much swirling around in my brain, it will be a miracle if it calms enough for me to actually rest. But as the slight pine scent washes over me from the pillow I’m lying upon, I find myself drifting off almost immediately. I guess today's events have taken their toll and I have reached my emotional limit. Fuck it, I’m not complaining. I can deal with reality tomorrow. For right now I just want to sleep and pretend my life hasn’t just been one series of clusterfucks after another.
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