Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two)

by Xavier Neal

  Feeling my chest constrict on the inside I grip the box tighter. My body is cramping. My lungs evicting the air that's made itself a home inside them. The familiar chaotic feeling begins purring around my toes. Ready to be petted once more.

  Luckily, Leighyani's phone rings and she pulls it out. A devious smile pops on her face. She shrugs. “I so gotta go. I probably won't see you again before you go to school in a couple of days, so happy birthday and kick ass.”

  Even she knows I'm leaving. I force a smile on my face. At the very least she deserves that. “Thanks again, Leighyani.”

  “Don't mention it.” she turns around answering her phone with a giggle and the words, “I miss you too...”

  The simple fact the relationship between us is finally at a point I don't mind keeps the smile on my face for a moment longer. Looking up, I glance over seeing Mindy at her front window. By her expression, I know that she knows. She probably wants to talk to me. I don't want to talk to her. In fact there's only one person I want to talk to right now. With that I turn my back on her, unlock the front door, and slip inside dialing the very number I was just thinking of.

  After a brief phone call, I grab a change of clothes, and hop into my shower. The moment the hot water falls down my head, I extend both my arms to keep myself propped up. Finally. A moment to pull myself together. The moment is gone as quickly as it came when the sound of the front door shuts. My brain is hoping that it's dad but by the way my blood is pumping extra hard to try to keep my heart beating I know better. I shut my eyes. I fucking hate this. All of it. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. I hate it all. And I'm done. I'm finally done with it. I'm ending these emotions. This pathetic excuse my life has become. I'm getting off the roller coaster of bullshit I threw myself on. And I'm staying off. Releasing my arms, I turn around so the water slides down my angel wing tattoos, erasing all the animosity, all the instability, the chaos, and recreating the perfect blank slate I once was. The one I will be again.

  My shower continues until the water finally turns cold and my body is throbbing in a rejuvenated way. The charge that's pumping through me is different but familiar. Ah. Control. My old friend. I slowly dry off my body, my hair, and give my teeth a good brush. In no particular hurry, I pull on my jeans and black t-shirt, adjust my tags, and admire the Marine in the mirror. The soldier. Grim.

  Exiting the bathroom, I head straight for my room, one thing very clear on my mind. I round the corner inside and grab my cell phone from the dresser slipping it in my pocket, my back to the bed.

  A very meek voice whispers, “Hi.”

  Briefly my eyes close. Stay strong Grim. You can do this. You have to. I pop my eyes back open and turn around. Haven's seated on the bed, legs tucked to her chest, her face stained with tears, eyes red from crying. I look over her messy hair. My old sweats and shirt she is wearing. Even now. She still looks beautiful. Feeling my heart start to yearn I swallow and head over to my closet.

  In a very simple tone I respond, “Hey.”

  “You didn't come home last night....”

  Finding my bag I open it up. “No.”

  “Where were you?”

  I begin adding items from the check list in my head. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters, Clint.” her voice seems hurt. That's rich.

  “If you say so.”

  There's a long pause. All I hear is the sound of her breathing and the sound of my clothes landing on top of each other in a neat fashion.

  Suddenly she whimpers, “Don't do this, Clint.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know what. Don't be so cold to me please. Don't push me away.” Before I can stop it a chuckle comes out of my body as I shove another item inside. “You think that's funny?”

  “I think its funny coming from you,” I clarify, my voice the same indifference it's been since we started this conversation.

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “It means...” I visually search through all the clothes in the closet looking for a particular shirt. It's at that moment I realize most of the shit in here isn't even mine. Figures. “That you pushed me away a long time ago.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  Finally spotting it, I grab it. “Exactly what I said.”

  Frustrated she groans out, “Can you just stop doing what you are doing and talk to me?”

  Pulling my bag over to my dresser, I shoot her glance. “I am talking to you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Packing.”

  “Why are you packing?” there's a sudden tremor in her voice.

  “I'm leaving.”

  “What do you mean you're leaving?”

  I toss in some underwear and turn to face her. Expressionless I shrug, “I mean I'm leaving. I start Marine Scout Sniper School in a couple days.”

  Her jaw drops and I watch her cycle through a number of emotions. Part of my heart calls out to rush over there. Hug her. Comfort her. Be her rock. The other part demands I stay right where I am. So I do.

  “I didn't know--”

  “I know.”

  “And you weren't gonna tell me? What kinda boyfriend does that?” her voice rises. Now she sounds angry. She sounds angry?! The anger I had buried begins to stir. I let out a long exhale. Keep calm Grim. “You were just gonna pack up one day and be like by the way I'm gone for...gone for...how long are you even gonna be for?”

  My eyes threaten to glare but I don't. I shrug. “No idea. Once school is over, I don't any idea what I'm gonna do or where. And while you're on your high horse about what kind of boyfriend I am, why don't you ask yourself when did you give me a chance to tell you? Better yet. Ask yourself why you didn’t ask me.”

  The realization causes a new panic to set in. Defensively she shakes her head. “That's not the point, Clint--”

  “No, Haven. That's exactly the point.” I watch tears form in her eyes. Stay strong Grim. With a shake of my head I look up at the ceiling knowing if I keep staring at her I will cave. I will go back on my plan. I will turn myself back into the weak whimpering wuss I was. “I've been home almost a month and in that time, what effort have you really made to be with me?” My head lowers back to look at her. “And I'm not talking about sitting down at dinner for a quick meal when you get home; I mean really be with me? When was the last time you asked me how I was? What was different with me? Anything related to me?”

  Her mouth forms a hard line.

  I turn back around to finish packing. Believe it or not, now it's even harder to concentrate. I start over with the list.

  “You don't know everything about me any more either, Clint.”

  The words slip past the force-field that was holding my pent up hostility at bay. “Is that a joke?” When she doesn't answer I take a firm step towards her, “You're really gonna sit there and tell me I don't know everything about you anymore? That's really fucking funny, Haven. I've spent the past month learning everything that I can about you all over again! I've spent the past month like some fucking spectator on my own girlfriend's life! I've spent the last month doing everything I fucking can to be in your damn life, and you can't even stop long enough to ask me how my day was!”

  Tears start to fall but she doesn't make a sound.

  “I don't know you? I don't know that when you've had a frustrating day at school you crave fried food. I thought it was just pickles, but it's anything deep fried. It's your comfort food. Every morning before you leave, you always check the front door twice to make sure it's locked. Or how about the fact you twirl your gum when you're deep in thought? That good enough? No. What do you want me to say to prove I know you? You have three different perfumes for different occasions? You bra size? Your menstrual cycle--”

  “Point made, Clint.”

  “No!” my voice seems to echo through the room. “You don't get to decide when the argument is over! You don't get to decide everything! I get a say in this relationship!”

  “
Then say what is you really wanna say!”

  “I wanna know how long you've been cheating on me!”

  “I'm not cheating on you!”

  “Oh?!” I pretend to be baffled. “So that kiss was what? An 'Oh I slipped, tripped, and he caught me with his tongue'? I'm not fucking stupid Haven!”

  “I'm not cheating on you!”

  “You creep into our bed five out of seven nights smelling like that asshole! He's had more dates with my fucking girlfriend than I have! So do not sit there and tell me you haven't been cheating on me Haven! I deserve the truth!”

  “That is the truth!” she pops up off the bed. “We are just friends! He's never done anything like that before. I swear. All we've ever done is hang out as friends. And Mandy is almost always with us. I don't know why...but yesterday he kissed me...” Her brown eyes that are blood shot try to bore into me. Unfortunately for them, I'm empty. “And I kissed him back.” Hearing her admit it sucks the remaining breath from me. “I didn't intend to. I went to push him away, Clint, I really did, but I didn't. You're the only guy I've ever kissed and part of me was curious. Not just about what it was like to kiss someone else, but someone who didn't see me as this helpless girl to be rescued. Someone who didn't see my past when they looked at me. Someone who was attracted to the sight in front of them. Who didn't feel sorry for me.”

  The truth of the situation jabs at me as well. She has a valid point. I can't blame her for being curious. But I can blame her for thinking that's what I see when I look at her. Because I don't. “The only thing I've ever seen when I looked at you, from the moment I saw you was how beautiful you are and how I would give my last fucking breath for you take one more.”

  I back up and turn around reaching for my bag again. The familiar sound of her tears returns and I clutch the strap tighter. “Clint, I'm sorry...I made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

  Calming back down, numb once more, I respond, “I know.”

  She doesn't say another word and I finish packing. Once she hears the bag zip she sniffles. “Can't we talk about this?”

  My body slowly turns to face her, bag slung over my shoulder, “What else do you wanna say?”

  I listen as she stumbles a few syllables out but actually says nothing.

  “Okay.” I nod once. “You know, Haven, I get it. I do. All this, all this was huge for you. The change. His death. Starting school. A life. Having a family again. And you needed someone to be there for you, and it couldn't be me. So you looked elsewhere. Yeah, in a way, it's my fault. If I was the kinda guy who had a normal ass job like Michele, things would be different. Easier. But they're not. And I'm not. And being a Marine is what I do. It's who I am. Clearly while you're it for me, I may not be it for you.”

  “Clint--”

  “And that's okay.” I shrug a shoulder, clutching the tears deep inside. “Figure out what you want. I mean really want. And take your time, Haven. I've got forever for you...”

  With those words tears fall to her cheeks and I cross over to her. Using the little strength I have inside me, I wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her for what most likely will be the last time. Swallowing the anguish once more. I shut my eyes. Tight. Breathe, Grim.

  My lips land in the middle of her forehead as I slip something into her hand. Once it's there I back away and stare into the eyes of the angel who put me back together and broke me again. “Goodbye, Haven.”

  She clutches her father’s ring in her hand bringing it to her shaky lips. I turn and head for my bedroom door. Her voice tries to croak, “Clint...”

  For the first time I can remember, I walk away from when she calls. With determination I take the stairs, leave my keys on the bar for her in case she needs them, and walk with my head held high like a Marine. A Marine with a new mission to find and complete because my mission to try to save that girl is over. I can save her from Old Man Banks. Playboy pricks. Bitter ex-girlfriends. Sleazy friends. But I can't save her from herself.

  Mindy puts a glass of milk down in front of me and sits across the table. She folds her hands in her lap. Leans back against the chair. Taps her foot impatiently. Finally she says, “Wanna talk about it?”

  “No,” I break a chocolate chip cookie in half.

  She pushes her lips together. Before I can even take bite of the cookie she says, “I really think we should talk about it, Slugger.”

  “Which part? The part where my girlfriend actually wanted another guy to kiss or the part where he did?”

  “Slugger--”

  “No. I don't wanna talk about it,” the cookie gets shoved in my mouth and I realize I'm ten years old all over again except this time, the angel isn't dead. She's just, gone. In a way I think that it's worse than death. Knowing the one person you want to spend the rest of your life with is still alive but doesn't love you. I shove the other half in my mouth.

  “Want my advice?”

  Once I swallow I say, “No.”

  She frowns. “Slugger--”

  “No. I don't want your advice. I don't want advice. I don't want anything but a place to crash tonight and a ride to the airport in the morning.”

  Mindy begins to glare when her phone rings indicating any ass chewing she was about to do has to be momentarily postponed. She pulls her cell phone to ear and hums, “Hello.”

  The expression on her face shifts and I realize I know exactly who it is.

  “Clint?” I shake my head slowly. She hesitates. “Not tonight, Haven. Go ahead and call Mandy. Have her come over; tell her to bring some ice cream, and chocolate. I promise we'll talk tomorrow. Yes. Alright. Good night, Haven.” Once she puts the phone down, she sighs at me, “Not gonna say anything?”

  I slow my chewing down. “Wrong number?”

  “Clint Thomas Walker, I swear to God--”

  “No, Mindy. I have nothing to say about it now or the next time you ask me. I'm done.”

  “But--”

  “No buts. No ifs. No whens. No maybes. Nothing. Just...nothing.” Hearing me say is seems to push her back against the chair once more. “Now, can I have a place to crash and a ride to the airport in the morning?”

  She drums her nails against the table doing her best to remain calm. At least it's finally not me trying to remain calm. The one struggling for peace. I may not be happy. I may not be pleased. I may not be content. But I'm numb. Emotionally shut off. It's familiar. And welcomed.

  “Why do you need a ride to the airport tomorrow? You don't start school for another few days?”

  “Moved up my flight. First one out tomorrow.”

  Her eyes close as if this situation pains her. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. Either way. I don't care.

  “I can't stop you from leaving, but I don't have to be the one to make it final. I won't take you in the morning, but I know someone who will.”

  Seeing where she's going with this I grumble, “Mindy...”

  “Don't worry, Slugger. It's not Haven.” She rises to her feet, her name bringing some sort of emotion of out her. Mindy rises to her feet, “I'm gonna make myself some tea, would you care for some?”

  “No, thank you. I'm gonna go ahead and get some rest.”

  I stand, which is when she turns around and hugs me tightly. Without hesitating, I wrap my arms around her and give her one good squeeze. She lifts up to her tip toes and plants a kiss on my cheek. Not saying anything, she pulls away and returns to the task of making herself something to drink.

  Leaving her to her own thoughts, I relocate myself to my room in her house. I pull my phone out of my pocket, set an alarm, place the phone on the nightstand and fall onto the bed on top of the covers, the only light seeping coming from the hallway under the door. I stare up at the ceiling in the dark. Staring up at it I wait. I wait for the memory to come flooding back to me. The last time I was in this bed like this. The wait continues for a minute. Then three. Five. Ten. And that's when I grasp it. No more memories. No more flashbacks. That part is back behind its wall. Or dead. Either
way, I'm back to my old ways. Grim has truly returned.

  4 Days Til School

  With my bag slung over my shoulder, I wait by the front door while Mindy fiddles around in the kitchen. Finally she strolls over. Her hair is perfect. Make up perfect. And even though she has her designer robe wrapped around barely exposing whatever mystery is underneath, it’s safe to assume it's a well put together outfit.

  “It's not exactly a birthday cake, but...” she shrugs as she pushes the cupcake to me.

  I look down at the chocolate cupcake with red and white frosting meant to look like a baseball. My face smiles for her. She worked this hard. The least I can do is pretend like I give a shit. Even if I really don't.

  “Thanks, Mindy.”

  She nods and touches her side of her face fighting tears. There's the sound of a car pulling into her driveway. My exit cue. “Promise you'll call?” I roll my eyes and she slaps my arm hard. “Promise me, goddamn it!”

  Baffled by her unexpected hit and her language choice, I frantically nod. “Yes ma'am.”

  “Good boy,” she folds her arms across her chest. “Give 'em hell.”

  Welcoming the change of attitude I nod. “Yes ma'am.”

  Mindy opens the door to usher me out. The immediate bite of the cold morning air reminds me I forgot to grab my coat. Fuck it. I'll buy a new one if I need it. My feet carry me quickly to my father's truck where I climb in. As soon as I'm buckled he pulls out of her driveway and heads for the airport.

  Not a word is said as I watch the passing city lights. The goodbye actually a relief. I've missed the field. The freedom. And even if I'm not putting myself in the same amount of danger, I am returning to something that preps me for my next deal with death.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  I turn my attention towards him. “About what?”

  “You. Haven. The incident.”

  “No.”