Imperfect Chaos

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Imperfect Chaos Page 13

by York, Marie


  “I wish it were that easy, but it’s not. Every time I close my eyes, I see his dead body beneath me. See the blood dripping from the knife, and the lifeless expression on his face. And the vision should scare me, but it doesn’t. It does the complete opposite. It makes me so unbelievably happy. Happy that he’s dead. Happy that I’m finally free, but knowing I killed him, and I can still feel happy… that scares me.”

  “You shouldn’t be scared of that. He got what he deserved, and you shouldn’t bear the burden of guilt. You should look at this as a good thing.”

  She shook her head. “No. This isn’t good. I killed someone. Watched as their life was sucked right out of them. I shouldn’t be happy about that. I should feel some remorse or sense of grief. There was a time when I was in love with him and I keep thinking shouldn’t that at least mean something? Make me feel bad that he is gone. But still, all I feel is relief. It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “You’re still the same person.”

  She was silent for far too long when she finally spoke. “Please just leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I stated.

  “You just promised me you would never hurt me. Right?”

  I nodded and bit my tongue, not liking the resolve in her gaze.

  “You being here right now is hurting me. So, please leave.”

  She might as well have taken that knife and stabbed me in the heart because that’s what her words felt like. A direct hit that hurt far worse than I ever imagined possible.

  I went to argue, but it was like beating a dead horse. There was no fucking point. So, without a word, not even another glance, I walked away and kept my promise.

  Chapter 27

  Brooklyn

  I held back the tears stinging my eyes for as long as I could, but as soon as Nixon left the room, they poured out of me. Part of me wanted him to stay, to call out to him and beg him to stay, but the other part of me, the part that knew I got him thrown in jail, kept me from saying anything.

  Sending him away nearly broke me, but it was for the best. I was no longer the broken girl he knew. I was a killer and I needed to come to terms with it before I let him back in, and he needed to let the dust settle and realize who I was I now. Maybe when that happened, he wouldn’t even want me anymore.

  I didn’t want him to stay with me out of pity. I needed to know that if and when we ever wound up together that it would be because we followed our hearts and not because we shared trauma.

  So while I wanted more than anything to run after him and collapse into his arms, I fought the urge, using the strength he taught me.

  ***

  Nixon

  It was ninety fucking degrees in the hospital, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The bitch at the check in yelled at me again as I passed. “Sir? Sir, excuse me.”

  “Go suck down another donut, you fat bitch,” I exclaimed, and she gasped like I just punched her in her round gut. Not that I ever would. I’d probably lose my damn hand in there.

  The doors parted, and the need to hit something was overwhelming, so I punched the first wall that came into sight. The impact reverberated through my arm, and it felt so fucking good. I went to throw my other fist into the brick, but stopped when I heard Beckham approach.

  “What’d that wall ever do to you?” he asked with a laugh, and he was lucky I didn’t sucker punch him. Instead, I turned and all but growled at him. He held his hands up in surrender. “Guessing it didn’t go so well in there?”

  “What do you think?” I spat, then ran my hands through my hair trying to get a fucking grip. “What the hell are you still doing here anyway?” I asked, when the rage finally chilled out.

  “My flight’s tomorrow and I don’t exactly have a place to stay tonight. Hotels are fucking expensive around here.”

  “You stingy bastard.” I turned away from the wall and wiped my bloody knuckles on my pants. Beckham had money. He might’ve hated his dad, but his dad gave him a nice cushion to live off while he was in college.

  “I already spent money on a plane ticket and a rental to come give your dumbass a ride home.”

  “My dumbass? You’re the idiot who…” I held my hand up. “Never mind. Can you just give me a ride to Tanya, and you can crash at my place tonight?” I was too tired to continue the ‘I hate you’ charade. Beckham fucked up in the past, but he showed up for me today, and that counted for something.

  “Point me in a direction.”

  We got in Beckham’s rental, and took off toward Brooklyn’s apartment. My mind was running in a thousand fucking directions, and I couldn’t make it stop. What if Brooklyn couldn’t get past whatever she was dealing with? She had ruined every other girl for me. Tainted the life of sloppy, careless sex that I thrived on. I’d never be able to go back to it. There was no more rush. The release I always felt was now just a waste of my time.

  I dug my palm into my eye. What the fuck was I moaning about? I was turning into a goddamned bitch right in front of my own eyes and I was allowing it. Fuck that. If Brooklyn wanted nothing to do with me, too damn bad. I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. She was just being a martyr. I’d give her tonight to deal with it, but tomorrow, I’d be right back at that hospital, fighting. And if there was one thing I knew; I never lost a fight.

  Never.

  Beckham pulled into Brooklyn’s apartment complex, and I pointed to Tanya.

  “You don’t need to point. I could see that car from fucking space if I had to,” he joked.

  “Don’t knock Tanya just because she got me more ass than you’ll ever know.”

  He went to say something then stopped himself. Probably for the best because if he said one thing about my sister, I would’ve left him fending for himself for the night. That whole situation still pissed me off, and I was finding it hard to forget about it.

  I wanted so badly to see my sister crash and burn for once in her fucking life. To prove to my parents that she wasn’t better than me. That she didn’t deserve to be on a pedestal. Beckham fucked my plan up, and that wasn’t even what I was pissed about.

  It was the fact that my sister was happy. She was always fucking happy and I despised her for it. For once, I wanted her to know what it felt like to be a failure.

  My jaw clenched as my mind slipped to the past. My parents talking in the living room, unaware that I had come home early, going on and on about how I was a disappointment to the family, and if I could only be more like Kennedy. It wasn’t the first time they had made comments like that, but to hear them discussing it, instead of just making snide remarks here and there was the nail in the coffin. It was the moment I decided to prove to them that Kennedy wasn’t this perfect doll they could show off to their friends like some trophy. She came from the same gene pool, was just as fucked up as I was, and I hated that she pretended like she was so wonderful.

  If she was a good person like she claimed, she would’ve stood up for me when my parents berated me at the kitchen table on a daily basis for whatever distress I caused them that day. Not once did she ever say a goddamned word. She was always so quick to talk about herself, though, and how perfect she was.

  At least now she knew that I wasn’t the overprotective brother she always assumed I was. It wasn’t the satisfaction I craved, but it would do. And as long as Beckham kept his trap shut about her, I could move on with my life.

  “I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen me, but we have all night together. You don’t have to linger,” Beckham said, and I backhanded him in the gut. “Oomph.”

  “Serves you right,” I uttered as I got out of the car.

  Beckham rubbed at his stomach then nodded to Tanya. “Is that a ticket?”

  I glanced over to my windshield, and saw the white thing he was referring to. “It better fucking not be.” I stormed over to it and took the folded piece of paper into my hand. Bile rose in my throat as the image and words came into focus.

  Feeling Sassy? I am
.

  -S

  An explosion went off in my head, and all I could see was red, as my heart pounded against my chest. Beckham got out of his car, blocking me from getting in my car. I turned to him, seething with rage.

  “Dude, what is it?”

  “Get out of my way. Now!”

  Beckham stepped back, and I let the paper fall to the ground. He bent down and picked it up as I got into Tanya.

  “Why is there a dead picture of a cat on your car?” Beckham asked.

  I didn’t answer. I threw Tanya in reverse, and whipped out of the parking lot, causing an oncoming car to swerve out of the way, and run off the road. I didn’t give two shits. All I cared about was getting home, and making sure Sassy wasn’t dead.

  Chapter 28

  Nixon

  I burned rubber almost the entire way back to my place, beating the shit out of Tanya, but I had no control. My emotions took over, and I was on autopilot. If that son of a bitch so much as touched a hair on that fucking cat, I would be thrown back in jail because I was going to actually commit a murder.

  I was barely in the parking lot when I threw Tanya in park, and ran to my door, taking the steps three at a time. My hands shook as I tried to ease the key in the damn lock, making it almost impossible. I took a deep breath and shoved the key in, turning until it clicked. I flung the door open, and it slammed against the wall.

  “Sassy?!” I yelled as I scanned my apartment. She wasn’t in her bed or on the couch. Not at her water bowl or lying on the kitchen tile as she loved to do. “Sassy, baby, where are you?”

  I hauled ass into the bedroom, and dove to the floor, searching under the bed, but all that was there was a dirty sock and dust.

  My breaths came in short jagged gasps as I moved around the bed, skimming over every inch of the room, even looking at the top of my dresser and in my closet.

  It was getting harder to get air into my lungs and I pressed my hand to the wall to steady myself. I inhaled deeply and pushed off the wall, heading to the one place I hadn’t looked.

  I flipped the bathroom light on and exhaled in relief as Sassy gazed up from taking a shit in her litter box. “I have never been so happy to see you shitting,” I said with a laugh.

  I shut the light to let her finish in peace and rested my back against the hallway wall. As much as I hated to admit it, Sal was right. Everybody had their weaknesses. Who would’ve thought mine would be a stray cat I found in an alleyway?

  But now that I knew Sassy was okay, it was evidently clear that Seth liked mind games. He wouldn’t actually cause any harm. He just wanted me to think he would. He would’ve been better off killing Sassy because, now that I knew, he would never play me like a fool again.

  ***

  Beckham left at the ass crack of dawn the next day, and it gave me time to get a run in before I had to be at the warehouse. Despite the shitfest that was my life the last few days, I still had a fight to train for. I only had a couple days before I was in the cage, and I needed to be on my game.

  I cancelled appointments with my clients at the gym, citing personal reasons, but they all knew what happened. It was all over the papers and the local news. Most of them left me messages telling me how sorry they were for what happened, and how they didn’t believe for a minute that I was actually guilty. I also had a few messages from old sluts who were turned on by me being in jail, and wanted to meet up. I deleted those before I even listened to the whole message. There was only one girl I cared about seeing, and I would as soon as I was done with my session.

  I waltzed into the warehouse and right to the ring. Kevin was already geared up as I had texted him that I was on my way and he better be ready. Mark stood outside his office like he’d been standing there all morning, waiting for me to get there.

  I gave him a nod and jumped right into the ring, wasting no time. Kevin automatically put his hands up, set to take my jabs.

  “How you doing?” Mark asked as he grabbed the ropes and pulled himself up on the ring.

  I threw a roundhouse kick at Kevin. “Never better.”

  “Maybe you should cancel this fight,” Mark said.

  My body came to a halt and I spun toward him. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

  “You’ve had a lot go on these past couple days.”

  “I’m not forfeiting a fight because of some bullshit.”

  Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair and then held both hands up. “You were arrested for murder.”

  “That I didn’t commit!” I yelled, and my voice echoed through the large space. All the movement seized, and I could sense all eyes on me.

  “You don’t have to forfeit, but you should reschedule,” Mark insisted. “Have some time to recuperate and train.”

  “That’s not going to fucking happen. I don’t need to recuperate. I’m not some injured fucking dog.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Mark ground out.

  “No, but that’s what you’re insinuating. I’m not fucking stupid. And, truth be told, I had a few shitty goddamned days, but who hasn’t? Life goes on, and I’m ready to move on with mine. So, if you’re done here, I have a fight to train for.”

  “Fine,” Mark fumed. “Have it your fucking way, like always.”

  “Hasn’t failed me yet, has it?” I called after him, and he slammed his office door in response.

  With a laugh, I turned around and swung. Kevin lifted his hand just in time and stumbled back at the force.

  He shook his hand out. “A little warning next time.”

  “You have to expect the unexpected,” I said, and it was a motto I lived by. One I had let slip away from me a few times these past few weeks, but not anymore. There wasn’t anything that would take me off guard again.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 29

  Nixon

  I flirted with one of the nurses on Brooklyn’s floor, had her giggling and licking her lips and, once I found out Brooklyn was being discharged today, I left her dazed and confused as I made my way to Brooklyn.

  There was no way in fucking hell I was letting Brooklyn go back to her place, especially not alone. If she wanted to battle it out, I was ready. If I had to, I would throw her over my goddamned shoulders and carry her to my place.

  I walked into her room and past the half dead lady in the bed next to her. Brooklyn was bent over, pulling a shoe on her foot, and I couldn’t help but stand there and admire her perfect round ass.

  She stood up, so I adjusted myself before she turned around and noticed me. When she finally spotted me, her eyes rolled in annoyance.

  “I thought I told you—”

  “You needed time,” I cut her off. “And I gave it to you.”

  “It’s been a day.”

  “It’s been a day and half,” I corrected her. That extra half a day killed me, but I spent the time in the ring, trying not to focus on it.

  “Whatever, it’s still not enough.”

  “B, look. I’ll give you all the damn time you want, but I refuse to let you go back to your place. Come home with me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Before you say no,” I jumped in. “Hear me out.” She glanced up, and I took in her face, happy to see it was slowly healing. She was able to open her other eye, and even though it still wasn’t fully open, it was enough to see a sliver of gray. “You can stay in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch. I won’t even go in the bedroom without your permission. I won’t make any moves on you unless you ask me to.”

  She laughed and I smiled. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  “Oh, trust me when I say it’s not going to be easy. If I had my way, I’d take you right here right now.”

  “So, why haven’t you?” she asked, and my cock actually didn’t jump at the thought.

  “Because for some reason, the thought of treating you that way disgusts me.”

  The corner of her lips tugged as she tried to force the smile away, but I saw it anyway.

  I
stepped forward and grasped her hand, rubbing my thumb across the soft skin of her knuckles, seeing cuts and bruises that shouldn’t have been there.

  “Please. Don’t go back to that hell house. I couldn’t protect you from Karl, but at least let me protect you from ever having to go there again.”

  “I told you. I don’t need to be protected.”

  “I know. You’re the strongest chick I’ve ever met, but protection is what I can offer you, and I just hope that’s enough.”

  She squeezed my hand and swallowed before looking up and running a finger down the side of my face. It didn’t hit me in the junk like I expected it to. Instead, it spread a warmth through my veins and pooled right in my heart. “That’s not true. I’m sure there’s so much more you can offer me.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m curious enough to find out.”

  She went to pull away and I pressed her hand to my cheek. “Does that mean you’ll come home with me?”

  “No.” The word hit me like a blow to the face, and my hand fell to my side.

  “What do you mean no?” I demanded, as I turned away from her and counting to ten before my temper got the best of me. I tried to calm down, then faced her again. “Stop being so fucking stubborn.” So I wasn’t completely calm, but that was the best I could do.

  Her hand planted on her hip, tugging her shirt tight across her tits. “Right back at you.”

  “Me? You’re the one who wants to go back to a crime scene.”

  “It’s my home.”

  “Not anymore it’s not.”

  “So what? I’m just supposed to give up everything I worked so hard to get and go live with you because of what happened? Don’t you get it? That’s what Karl would want. He’d want me to be scared. To give up everything because of him. And I refuse to do that. If I do, he still wins, and I’ll be damned to let that happen. I need to go home.”

  My jaw ticked, and I cracked my neck. “I swear to God I’m going to throw you over my shoulder, and carry you to my place.”

 

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