Love and Chaos

by S. M. Soto

I give him a sharp nod and drop my gaze down to Sophia, about to tell her I’m going to handle this, but the expression on her face gives me pause.

  “Oh no, Creed. I’m coming in there too. No more secrets. I may not understand all this high-tech mumbo-jumbo, but you’re not keeping me in the dark. Not when it comes to this. I need to see what they think they have on you.”

  I take her hand in mine. I don’t know why I expected anything less.

  When we get into my office, Monte and Clarence are the only ones in there.

  “Jose and Kam are shooting at the range.”

  I nod. No need to bring them up for this. The shooting range is below the estate, just opposite of the execution room. One of us can always head down if anything happens I need them in on.

  “You got it?” Monte asks.

  I toss the drive at him which he catches effortlessly. He plugs it in, his fingers flying across the keyboard at an inhuman speed. Settling into the chair behind the mahogany desk, I pull Sophia onto my lap, one hand finding her hip and the other I use to massage her back while we wait for whatever Monte finds on the files. Most of the information inside it encrypted, probably as a precaution for purposes like these.

  “All right. We finally have some names. Though, there’s no other information on the agents, probably as a safety precaution. But it seems the top agents that have been corresponding with the Chicago PD are Jason Bancroft, Dwight Macklin, and Scott Aldrich.”

  “Running the names now,” Clarence adds. “It might take a while, but I can see if I can find a back door into the bureau and—”

  “No. That’s too risky. All I need is information on them. I’ll take the rest from there.”

  Sophia stiffens in my lap. “What does that mean?” She cranes her head to look back at me. I see the worry in her green orbs. My girl is still so damn innocent.

  I brush the long hair out of her face. “It means, I’m going to have a talk. The rest is up to them.”

  “How are you…how do you plan on doing that, aren’t all FBI agents based out of Washington?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Garrett scrub a hand down his face in exasperation, like he can’t believe his sister could think such a thing. It’s a struggle to fight to hold in my laughter.

  “That’s where headquarters are, but agents are placed wherever their assignments are. And apparently, these guys were placed here.”

  “When are you going to ‘talk to them,’” she air quotes for emphasis and this time I do laugh because I guess she knows talking is the last thing we are going to be doing.

  “Soon.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut. And when she opens them, there’s a new resolve in her eyes. I’ve seen this look on her before, but never to this extent. It’s her protective instincts.

  “Okay. Promise you’ll be careful?”

  A crooked smile tips one corner of my mouth. I swipe my thumb across her plump lips. . “Always.”

  I SINK MY TEETH INTO my bottom lip, trying not to laugh but the cold stuff Creed keeps swiping over my stomach is making it difficult.

  “Stop moving.”

  A giggle escapes my lips. “I’m trying, but you’re making it really hard.”

  Creed glances up at me, and the laugh dies in my throat. The intensity and heat with which he regards me would never cease to amaze me. I felt his love for me each time he looked up at me. Felt it deep in my bones. His mouth tugs at the corner, pulling into a smirk and the sight of it has my heart tripling in speed.

  “We’re almost done. Just try to keep still.”

  I nod, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, trying to contain the smile. I watch Creed finish up. His hands covered in the plaster. He dips back into the bowl bringing the clunk of the thick, cold casting material back to my stomach. We’re about halfway through with the mold. The only portion left we need is my upper half. I know he’s dying to get there. If the smirk on his face is any indication, I can tell he’s looking forward to it too.

  Alexis sent over a pregnancy mold, she thought it would be a fun activity for me and Creed. I honestly didn’t even think he’d be up to it, but surprisingly, he seemed interested in the idea. He’s been eating up every second of this, watching my reaction as he smooths the cool plaster across my skin.

  “All right, just these next and we’re done,” he says, nodding toward my breasts, and I break out in a laugh.

  “These? Can you at least sound a little bit more enthused?”

  “Oh, believe me, I am,” he whispers salaciously, leaning forward to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He flicks the tip of his tongue over the hardened peak and my sex quavers in anticipation, warmth pooling low in my stomach. I toss my head back on a groan of pleasure.

  Taking the smoothing plaster, he rubs it across my breasts all the while watching for my reaction. My eyes hood with lust. If I wasn’t soaked with all this stuff, I’d jump his bones right now. By the gleam shining in his eyes, I’d say he knows it too.

  “Touch me please,” I whimper and he chuckles. It’s his deep and husky laugh that never fails to send a tremor down my spine. It’s like a rough caress along my skin.

  “Just a little bit longer,” he taunts, hovering his lips over mine, still smoothing out the plaster. I let out a groan. My skin feels itchy and it isn’t because of this pregnancy mold. I just need his hands on me. His mouth trailing across my skin.

  Once Creed finishes and the upper half of my body is fully dried with the mold, he steps into me.

  “You ready to pull it off?”

  “Let’s see what it looks like.”

  I raise my arms, to keep them out of the way, allowing Creed access to pull it off of me. And when he does, I finally breathe a sigh of relief. When he turns it around to face me, I cover my mouth with my hands, my eyes widening. The mold came out perfect. It’s hard to look in the mirror at how stretched out my body is and be happy, but seeing it here with the mold, it makes tears spring to my eyes.

  “I love it,” I whisper in awe.

  “Me too.” He gives me that crooked smile, the one that never seems to disappoint in the butterfly department.

  I jolt, snapping out of the trance this man always seems to have me under, at the knocking on our bedroom door. With a frown, Creed sets the mold down on the plush hope chest in front of our bed. He walks toward the door, glancing back at me once to tell me to get dressed. I hear him talking to someone and by the time I slip on a bra and t-shirt to see who it is, I catch the tail end of Garrett saying something about a cop. I quicken my steps.

  “What is this about a cop?”

  Garrett blows out a sigh when he sees me. I think they’re all tired of having me in the loop now. “There’s a cop here to see Creed. Says she wants to talk. She’s not in uniform.”

  My brows tug down, and I dart my gaze to Creed, wondering if he knows why she’s here, but by the blank look on his face, I’m guessing he had no clue.

  “I’m coming down with you.”

  “No, you’re not,” Creed and Garrett say in unison.

  “Yes. I am. I have a right to know what’s going on, remember?”

  I can practically feel them wanting to say no and shut the door on me. I wouldn’t put it past them to lock me inside, but in the end, they nod reluctantly, and we follow Creed into the foyer. I recognize the cop immediately when I spot her in the foyer. Though, she looks a little different without her hair in a bun and without her uniform on. I expect her to be like most women and eye-fuck Creed, but surprisingly I’m the first person she seeks out. Her gaze scans me, from top to bottom. It’s like she’s making sure I’m in one piece. It’s such an odd reaction, I can’t help but frown at her.

  “I’d like to speak to your fiancée,” she says, addressing Creed. My brows shoot up, almost disappearing into my hairline.

  Me?

  “No.” Creed’s voice is a sharp, protective, retort as he steps in front of me, blocking me from her. I look around his large body, eyeing her speculati
vely. She doesn’t have any weapons on her, and from what I can see, she doesn’t exactly look like a threat. Deeming her safe, I place my hand on Creed’s back, stepping up beside him.

  “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  She purses her lips. “It’s private.”

  “You’re not going anywhere near my sister. You might as well leave.”

  She sighs. “Look, I just want to talk and make sure she’s okay. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

  “Okay,” I breathe out. “Let’s talk. Creed? The garden?”

  The muscles in his jaw tick with frustration as he grinds his teeth together. I can tell he wants to say no, but for some reason, hedecides not to. “If you want to talk with her, it won’t be alone.”

  “It won’t be you—”

  “It’ll be with whoever I say it is,” Creed snaps at her and I flinch. I’ve never heard him get angry at a woman. Everyone one else? Sure. This just shows how out of his comfort zone he is, letting me talk to her.

  “C’mon Soph,” Garrett says, leading us into the garden. He probably notices how close Creed is to losing his shit. I glance back at him over my shoulder and I can tell he doesn’t like this, but he allows it anyway.

  When we step outside, the brisk Chicago air blows my hair across my face, and I give my brother a nod, silently telling him he can stay close, but he needs to give us some space, so she can talk to me about whatever she came here for. I point to the bench next to the bed of flowers for us to sit.

  Lowering down on the ornate concrete slab, I twist my body toward the officer. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “It’s Celestine Bentley, but you can just call me Celeste.”

  “Well, Celeste, I’m Soph—”

  “Sophia Cova,” she finishes for me. “Yes, I know. I also know you’ve been missing in California for almost two years now. It’s a crime you know, pretending to be abducted.”

  My mouth drops open in shock.

  “Just tell me one thing,” she says before I can even try to defend myself. “Are you here of your own free will? Did he…did Mr. Sabella hurt you?”

  My eyes widen. And I scoff. “Hurt me? How could you possibly think he hurt me? He was one of the men who saved me.”

  Her brows tug down, confusion plastered across her face. “One of them?”

  “You don’t even know the half of it, do you?”

  “Why don’t you enlighten me then? I can’t stand…” She trails off, swallowing thickly, before clearing her throat. “I can’t stand the thought of you stuck here, pregnant against your will.”

  “Do you really think I’d be stuck against my will with my brother here?” I point to Garrett who’s still standing off to the side, watching us intently. “My brother and my fiancé saved me from the men who took me. Wait—how did you know about that anyway? How did you figure out who I was?”

  “My family is from California. Last time I was down to visit, you were all over the local news. I wasn’t sure before. The last time I was here, and I saw you, I knew you looked familiar. It wasn’t until someone said your name that it clicked. But then, I started wondering if he was the reason you were abducted. I wondered I if I could save you, maybe talk to the officers at the station.”

  My stomach tightens and my heart drops. I jerk my arm out, snatching her hand up in mine.

  “You didn’t say anything, did you? I can’t afford to have the authorities trying to haul him in, understand me? Everything he’s ever done has been for me. He saved me. He’s not this bad guy they’re pegging him out to be. Just please, if you’re going to do anything, help clear his name.”

  “So, this is real?” Her brows pull down into a frown. “You really do love him then? I mean, I get it, he’s a good-looking guy and—”

  I cut her off, not wanting to hear another woman say how hot she thinks my fiancé is. I point down to my swollen belly as proof.

  “With all my heart. I love the both of them. Please, please, I’m begging of you,” I plead with her, feeling my eyes glisten with tears. “Don’t let them take him.”

  She darts her gaze down to her lap, her bottom lip trembling. She can’t be too much older than me, she looks young and if I’m right about her, she just wants to do right by the city of Chicago. She really does want to serve and protect but letting them take Creed? That’s not serving and protecting.

  “I’m just a rookie,” she whispers, slowly lifting her gaze. “I have no pull, no say in anything. They’re so…”

  “So what?”

  “They’re so hell-bent on cleaning up crime, getting awards, that they’re trying to pin everything on him.”

  My eyes slam shut. I cannot have that.

  “You can try though, right? You can try to say something to them, can’t you?”

  There’s a sad expression on her face. “I can try, but that doesn’t mean it’ll work or do anything to help. But,” she sighs. “Even though I know he isn’t completely innocent, I’m glad he’s not the criminal I thought he was. And even though I don’t know you, I’m glad you’re okay. I really didn’t want to have SWAT storm the place.”

  I can’t hold back the laugh that escapes. “Thank you. Seriously.”

  “I should probably get going.”

  I nod, getting up from the bench. We start walking toward the French doors inside when I stop her. Reaching out, I grasp onto her forearm.

  “If you hear anything. Anything they’re planning against him, you’ll tell us, right?”

  Her face pinches and her brows tug down like she’s truly thinking about it. She must come to some conclusion because she nods, letting out a weary sigh.

  “Okay. Okay, I will.”

  I watch the officer as she goes. Feeling marginally better about what’s happening with law enforcement. Especially since Creed and the guys seem to have the upper hand—the inside scoop into their programming.

  “What happened?” Creed asks as soon as the front doors close behind her. I can feel his body vibrating with tension.

  I blow out a breath. “She’s not going to be a problem anymore. I think…I think we can trust her.”

  “I don’t trust anyone,” Creed growls, already walking away.

  “Well, I think we can trust her. All I want is to keep you out of trouble. By whatever means necessary.”

  Creed stops walking. He turns, taking my face in his warm, calloused hands. “I know you do. But I’m handling this tonight. You just worry about this,” he says, placing his hands on my stomach, rubbing in soothing circles. I drop my head to his chest but freeze when his words register.

  “Wait—what’s happening tonight?”

  “Clarence found some useful information on the agents. Having words tonight with one of them.”

  I search his eyes, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. “You’re going to be careful, right?”

  “Yes,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss me silent.

  I start with agent Scott Aldrich since he has the least to lose. No children, no wife and his parents are deceased. He’s the one that needs to be taken down first. Because if he doesn’t do as I ask, I’ll get rid of him. He won’t have anyone who cares about his disappearance, other than the bureau. It’ll be much easier to move onto the others when he’s out of the way, the ones with everything to lose. They won’t have anyone like Scott in their ear talking them out of it. They’ll just want to keep their family safe.

  Scott frequents the bar on State street and even though he works for the department of justice, seems he likes participating in illegal acts of his own. An FBI agent enjoying the company of prostitutes. A hypocrite at its finest.

  Tonight, his routine has been no different.

  He spends a few hours at the bar, drinking two glasses of Brandy straight. He flirts with the bartender even though she doesn’t ever reciprocate or indulge him, but that doesn’t seem to stop him. After he finishes that last glass, he hangs out a little longer, watching the TV that hangs in the corner of t
he bar before paying his tab and leaving. From the bar, he heads straight to the same hotel. The Travelodge on Harrison. And every night it’s a different woman. Seems he has a type though. Blonde one’s with bright red lips are his MO.

  With my hands stuffed in my suit pockets, I cross the darkened street and walk through the entrance. The employee manning the desk barely looks up from whatever he’s watching at this hour and I slip into the elevator, pressing the sixth floor.

  I stop in front of 643B and just like I knew it would be, the door is cracked, the only thing holding it open is the deadbolt sticking out. I push the door open quietly, like anyone sneaking around would and I hear movement on the bed. “You’re a few minutes late, but that’s okay, baby. I’ll add it to the bill.” He chuckles. A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips but for different reasons. Flipping up the light switch, the room is suddenly bathed in a wash of bright light, but my eyes have adjusted much quicker than his because by the time I close the distance, striding across the room toward him, he’s still blinking rapidly. When his gaze settles on mine, his face blanches.

  “What the fuck?” he yells, scrambling to his feet. His hairy stomach is on full display and my upper lip curls in disgust. “Y-you…” he stutters as he gets a full look at my face. “What are you doing here?”

  I ply him with a cold smirk. “Oh, Scott. I think you know exactly what I’m doing here. We’re going to have a quick chat.”

  His eyes shoot to the door, and I can see the second he decides to make a break for it. He plants his hands on both sides of him on the bed, and tries to shoot past me, but I shove him down with a firm grip on his shoulder, digging the pads of my fingers into his flabby flesh. He falls back onto the bed with an oomph, and at the hard expression on my face, he wisely stays put. Likely realizing I’m in no mood to be pissed off.

  “You can’t do this. I’m a federal agent! I’m—”

  I wrap my hand around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

  “And you pissed me off, Scott. I don’t give a shit what you are. You see, this little vendetta the bureau has against me,” I grit my teeth. “It’s not going to work for me. Wipe it, all of it, before I fucking end you, understand me?”