The Princess of Chaos

by Candice M. Wright

  I fumble around some more until I find the handle and give it a yank. It’s locked, naturally, but I can tell by the feel and shape of it what kind of lock it is. More than that though, I’m actually familiar with these locks as I’ve been picking them since I was a kid sneaking down to see my mother. I’m still on Chaos property, I'm just—“Fuck.” I press my forehead against the door and breathe in through my mouth and out through my nose slowly.

  I know exactly where I am. I’m in the basement under the house I grew up in with Wanda and John. I’m in the room that held my mother prisoner. I close my eyes, which is ridiculously unnecessary, but it helps me concentrate on the picture in my head of the basement layout from when I was a kid.

  There is one entry point to the basement, a large wooden door that leads down from the back of the kitchen. The kitchen sits at the back of the old 70s style house with a large archway leading to a sitting area. We will have to make our way through there to get to the hallway that leads to the front of the house. I’ve never given much thought to the layout of this house before but right now I’m cursing whoever designed it. My only hope is that the house is empty or that I can find a weapon of some kind. There is no way of knowing what I’m going to be walking into, but staying here isn't an option.

  Knowing where I am means I don't have to worry about being quiet because this place is soundproofed. It also means that if someone comes back to finish us off, nobody will hear us scream. The house is set at the back of the lot near the woods. If I can just get us outside, we can find coverage in the trees and make our way back to the clubhouse.

  I take another deep breath through my mouth, the thick cloying scent of rot and mold making my stomach turn again. I don’t know what this room has been used for since my mother’s death. Something tells me I don't want to know but if the smell is anything to go by, I doubt it has ever been cleaned.

  I bite my lip hard, shutting down that thought before it can spiral. Knowing this is the place where she died is something I’m not ready to deal with. I can’t fall apart. There will be time for that later. Right now, I’ve got to get my shit together.

  I close my eyes and picture the room as I remember it when I was little, back before I realized it was a cell. Even when she was given free rein of the club, if she wasn't servicing someone she was expected to sleep here like a dog in its kennel. She had nothing and yet somehow, she made it look pretty with what she had. As a kid, I never looked beyond what I could see. My only concern was why couldn't I stay with her when I hated being upstairs with John and Wanda.

  With the childlike blinders off, I can now picture the cold stone walls beneath the dog-eared posters of sunny beach scenes, majestic forests, and wild jungles. All the places she would never get the chance to see. The stone floor remained permanently ice cold with only a single small rug that had been salvaged from the dumpster behind one of the other apartments to break up its bleakness. The far left corner used to house a small single bed covered with a thin threadbare blanket dusted with a little red rose pattern that had faded over the years. Beside it, there had been a rickety bedside table in a retro-style wicker with a small off-white battery operated desk lamp upon it that had been the only source of light in this now dark room. There are no electrical light sockets or outlets down here in the room only ever meant to have been for storage.

  That’s all I remember about the contents but every time I snuck down here, she lit up like she had everything she could possibly need and I guess in a way she did. I was her greatest treasure which unfortunately turned me into the perfect target for them to use as a manipulation tool with threats of violence.

  I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, bringing me out of my memory, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. I know I can pick this lock. I’ve done it a thousand times before. The problem is, I know I’m hurt pretty bad. Do I head to the exit and try to get help and come back for Conner or do I attempt to get him out of here myself, hoping like fuck I don’t pass out in the process?

  I don't know what I’ll be walking into, I don't know which is the best choice, but I just can't bring myself to leave him here even if it's to get help. What if he wakes up terrified? What if he hurts himself? No, I can't leave him behind.

  With my decision made, I slowly descend the stairs, retracing my steps until I find Conner exactly where I left him. After giving his body another once over with my hands, I’m pretty sure he doesn't have anything broken. At this point, it's a risk I’m going to have to take.

  I grit my teeth and use every ounce of strength I have left to pick him up with my good arm. He’s heavy, making my already unstable body pitch forward. Having a useless arm doesn't help matters but I manage to stay on my feet by will alone.

  “I will make it,” I tell myself. There is no other option. Either we both get through that door or we both stay because I’m not leaving him.

  I work my way back around the same route as before, far slower than last time, stumbling occasionally but I make it back to the steps and that's all that matters. I place my foot on the bottom step and center my weight. As I start to take the next step, Conner moves. Slowly at first as he wakes, then his moves turn frantic and I feel him slipping from my grip. With no other option, I drop to my butt and cradle him in my lap. His flailing limbs make him smack against my injured arm, making me scream out. He stills his movements instantly before I feel his little arms wrap themselves around my neck as recognition sets in. A second later, I feel his hot tears scorching the skin of my neck.

  “Conner, Conner, sweetie, I need you to calm down for me, okay? Shh… it’s okay, I got you but I’m a little hurt so I need my favorite little man to help me out. Think you can do that?” Shit. I feel useless not being able to see or hear him. Frustration beats at me again but I refuse to let it break me.

  “You know my ears don’t work properly and I can’t hear you right? Well, because it's so dark in here I can't see you either, which means I don't know if you’re talking to me.” I fight to keep my voice from breaking. He needs my strength right now, not my tears. “We are going to have to stick with yes-no questions for the moment. To answer yes I want you to tap my shoulder like this.” I lift his hand and tap it against my shoulder.

  “Only this one though, as the other arm is hurt, okay?”

  I wait a moment, then feel him tap my shoulder once.

  “Good boy. You are so freaking smart and brave. Right, to tell me no, I want you to feel around for my ear and give it a tug. Now this question is super important, all right? I want you to really think about it before answering. Are you hurt anywhere?”

  I wait a moment before he taps me on the shoulder.

  “Shit,” I curse, balancing him in my lap and placing my hand in his.

  “Can you place my hand on what hurts Conner?” I feel him tugging my hand and lifting it until I can feel his soft hair beneath my fingers.

  “Your head hurts?”

  He moves his fingers to my shoulder and taps once.

  “Oh, baby so does mine. Do you hurt anywhere else at all?”

  A tug on my ear has me sending up a silent prayer of thanks.

  “This is what we are going to do, Conner. You are going to wrap your arms and legs around me and hold on as tight as you can and I am going to get us the heck out of this place. I know it's scary in the dark but I am so impressed with how brave you are being that I can't wait to tell everyone how you helped to rescue us, my very own little hero. We need to move now so climb up and hold on tight.”

  He does as I ask and I can tell he’s trying to be careful of my bad arm, making me smile for the first time since waking up down here. He has our mother’s fearlessness. I kiss the side of his cheek as he buries his head against my neck and wraps his little fingers in my hair.

  I make my way up the steps. Each footstep is agony as the added weight of Conner pulls on the last reserves of my energy but I fight through it. We make it to the top in one piece, thankfully. I lower Conner to the flo
or slowly so I can grab the wire tucked in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Bending down, I use my fingers to feel the tiny opening of the lock and slip the wire into the mechanism. It’s harder with the use of only one hand, taking a little longer than usual to get it open. Eventually, I feel it click and the door handle pushes down with ease.

  Slowly, I crack the door to look out and am met with my worst fucking nightmare.

  I freeze on the spot and try to stifle my sobs so I don't scare Conner but my whole body shakes with the force of them trying to break free. I bite down so hard to stop myself from screaming that blood pools in my mouth.

  It's not what I can see that has me on the verge of a panic attack, it’s what I can’t see that has my mind spiraling at the possible connotations of what this will mean for me. It's as dark up here as it is down in the basement, the blackness so encompassing it’s suffocating me.

  The difference between up here and down there is that this isn't normal.

  I reach out a hand, find the counter, and feel my way across it until I feel the sink. It's exactly where I can picture it in my brain. Above it is a huge bay window that looks out onto the woods. This whole room is usually bathed in light and it probably is now. The problem is, I can’t see it. I can’t see anything.

  The blackness is not coming from the room I’m standing in, it’s coming from me.

  I squeeze the counter with my fingertips as I start to sway when another wave of pain moves through my head. Conner’s small hand slips into mine, reminding me that I can fall apart later but right now I have to get him somewhere safe. I lean against the counter for a moment, letting it take my weight as I picture the layout and find my bearings.

  “Okay, Conner, we’re nearly there.” I bend down and turn to where I assume he is.

  “Conner, is this the house you lived in with Wanda?” I ask him, making sure I’m not losing my mind on top of everything else.

  A tap on the shoulder reassures me that I’m not crazy just yet.

  “Something is wrong with my eyes so I’m going to need you to guide us outside. Do you think you can do that?”

  A tap on my shoulder has me smiling despite myself.

  “Fantastic. You are my hero, little man. I couldn't do this without all of your help.”

  I grip his little hand tightly and use the counter to pull myself back up. I hold on to it for a second before doubling over and puking, hopefully in the sink.

  Conner’s hand in mine is the only thing keeping me grounded and when he squeezes it harder, I know he’s scared. I wish I could wrap him up in my arms and run with him, to keep going until I find Viper, Grim, and Zero who I know would keep us safe, but I don’t think I’m even going to make it through the front door.

  “It’s okay, I’m okay. Let's just go. Nice and slowly now.”

  He tugs me along and I follow, concentrating on staying upright. I catch my foot on something, smacking my bad arm on the wall and hitting my hip on the corner of the table that wasn't there before. It doesn't matter, I don't feel any of it anymore. My body is shutting down at an alarming rate but I won't stop moving until Conner is out of this house of horrors.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, we make it to the door. I pull it open, surprised to find it unlocked, before finally allowing myself to sink to my knees.

  “I need you to listen to me now, Conner. I need you to be brave for just a little longer for me okay? I need you to run to the clubhouse. Don’t stop for anyone except Viper, Grim, or Zero, no one but them. You get them to come and help me, all right?”

  I feel his hands on my arm tugging me, his movements jerky and filled with panic.

  “I can’t come with you, Conner, I won’t make it that far. Come here.” I tug him into my arms, my eyes growing heavy, but I fight through it as hard as I can. “I am so lucky to have you as a brother. I love you. I’ll be waiting right here for you to come back. I’m going to be fine, I promise,” I assure him, feeling my tears slide down my cheeks at my lie.

  “Go now, you have to hurry. Remember what I said. Only trust Zero, Grim, and Viper.”

  A hesitant tap on my shoulder makes me smile even as I lose the fight to stay awake. I feel a soft kiss on my cheek just before my eyes close and then I feel… nothing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grim

  “Everyone in position?” Zero asks me. I give him a nod to let him know we’re ready. I hope he knows what he’s doing because there is no coming back from this. “Let’s move out,” he orders.

  I give the signal for the others and we make our way through the gates, the prospects doing nothing to stop us. We fan out around the compound, knowing everyone is already inside. The loud talking and bright lighting give them no indication of what’s about to go down.

  I slam open the door and push myself ahead of Zero, offering him protection even though the dozen or so other people heading in behind us will ensure his safety.

  “What the fuck?” someone yells as the screechy voice of some 70s rock song stops abruptly.

  “Where is Megan?” Zero roars at the room at large.

  People start moving for their weapons but they pause when all the people at our backs point their guns at them.

  “Do not make me repeat myself,” he grits out to the room. Half of them look shell-shocked, the other half betrayed. I shrug indifferently. All I care about is finding Megan. Nothing else matters beyond that and Viper pulling through.

  “Prospects? You fucking fool. Prospects aren't trained like the rest of us. We could take them out before you blink,” another voice yells.

  Kaz has him out of the chair he was sitting in and unconscious on the floor in less than three seconds.

  “These guys aren't just prospects,” I tell them, scanning the crowd and watching the sea of faces.

  “These are our brothers from our unit,” Zero chimes in. “They have saved our asses time and time again, making our trust in them unbreakable. That's more than can be said for the rest of you, isn't it?”

  “One of you knows where Megan is,” Grim bites out. “One of you is responsible for shooting Viper and we aren’t leaving until I find out who did it so I can return the favor.”

  “You’re a fucking traitor.” Rock stands up, kicking his chair over in the process.

  Orion, Gage, Halo, and Diesel step up beside us with faces etched with fury.

  “A traitor? For calling on their old lady’s family? Or because he knew if we were going to take out your president we would have been a hell of a lot smarter about it than to leave the word ‘Carnage’ carved into his chest,” Orion seethes at the once president of Chaos.

  “The only traitor as far as I’m concerned is the rat within Chaos who tried to break the truce between our two clubs and start a war using my sister as a fucking scapegoat. Well, not this fucking time,” he tells them.

  The Chaos Demons stare at us in confusion. Having been put on lockdown by their VP, only to find themselves being held at gunpoint by the same man will do that to a person.

  “They came to us because they can’t trust you. That doesn't make them weak or traitors. It makes them smart. They avoided a war with a club that is a fuck of a lot bigger than yours and a group of mercenaries that would happily slaughter you all in your sleep without you knowing.

  “I’ve despised this MC for what they did to my mother but I have a hell of a lot of respect for the men who are trying to turn it around,” Diesel tells the crowd before turning to look first at Zero then at me.

  “You’re still not good enough for my sister though,” he grumbles, making my lips twitch. “But I will put any plans of mass murder on halt for a while,” he tells me begrudgingly.

  “Appreciated,” I say dryly.

  “My nephew is lying in the fucking hospital thanks to some fucker—” Rocks tirade is cut off as a commotion takes place behind us.

  “Hey, stop you can’t go in there,” I hear one of the Carnage guys yell a second before something coll
ides with my legs, making me stumble.

  “Holy fuck,” Zero says.

  I look down and see Conner wrapped around my legs, shaking. I bend down and wrap my arms around him, holding him to me tightly as he struggles to get his words out.

  “M… Megan,” he stutters, a sob ripping from his throat as the room goes wired.

  “Hey, it's okay. Take your time,” Zero reassures him, crouching down, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down his back.

  “She’s at my house,” his shaky voice whispers, making us look up at each other sharply.

  “Wanda’s place?” I ask Zero. He shrugs and nods for a couple of the prospects to head out and check. I’m itching to go myself. I need to see her with my own two eyes.

  “Conner. I want you to stay here for me, all right. I’m going to go and fetch her and make sure she’s all right.” I stand up and turn him to face the room. He looks up at Orion and Diesel, who look down at him in shock.

  “Holy motherfucking shit,” Halo whispers from his spot beside Orion.

  “Explain,” Orion barks at me, making me want to nut punch him even if I do understand where he’s coming from.

  “No time. I need to get to Megan but we will explain it all later. In the meantime, this is Conner, your brother. Conner, these are Orion and Diesel, the big brothers your sister was telling you about.”

  Conner looks up at them in wonder before something over Diesel’s shoulder catches his eye, causing what little color he had to bleed from his face.

  “Hey, what is it?” I look to see what he’s looking at and find Rock staring at us.

  “Conner?” Conner looks up at me, his eyes wide with fear.

  “He hurt Megan.” He points at Rock, making me whip my head around in surprise.

  Gage and Halo are one step quicker than me though and have Rock on the floor with his hands behind his back and a foot pressed down between his shoulder blades.