Page 18 of Unleashing Chaos

“You do realize that you have a choice. If your dad is involved with a cult or strong-arming you because of your culture, you can say no. I’m sure Cannon will help me get you out of it if you want us to.”

I don’t know what would be worse, me telling him I’m a demon from Infernis or him thinking my father is a cult leader. But one thing is clear, I don’t think he’d ever understand how important it is that I step up as my Circle’s leader. It’s not only my realm that hangs in the balance, but the potential eternal home of his and every other human’s energy.

Five

JACE

My life has been turned upside down and spun on its head since Desideria stepped through my door. I placed the ad for a roommate to ease my finances while I got my marketing design company off the ground. One roommate who maintained a civil environment, paid their rent on time, and followed my rules for a clean house. What I got was a fellow nerd who can’t put his shoes away and a fiery redhead who seems to enjoy bringing me to the brink of a panic attack daily.

I was ready to turn Desi away. It was clear from the moment I met her that she’s a magnet for trouble. And that was before I knew she was on the hunt for a potential husband. I’ve had my fair share of emotional turmoil, and I swore to never knowingly let it into my life again. My business is my focus . . . my future. Nothing, and no one, is going to derail me from making my dream come true. But god, those big green eyes framed with long lashes had me tossing caution out the window and letting Desi move into my spare room.

Now, Desideria sits at a high-top table on the other side of the restaurant. She fits in with the ritzy patrons, her curls piled on top of her head and a black dress that does her curves justice. She runs her slender finger over the strand of pearls around her neck and takes a sip of her third gin and tonic. Her gaze has shot to the front door every time it opens, only to be followed by disappointment. It wasn’t my intention to watch her crash and burn tonight. Far from it. Given my anxiety, I usually avoid places like this, but after the other night, I pushed those feelings aside.

When Desi texted me to tell me a man had his hands all over her, it sent a mixture of anger and worry through me. I didn’t think twice about grabbing my keys and driving across town to the shithole known as Apex Fusion. It was the first time I’d driven above the speed limit in years, and still I’d caught every red light, seemed to get stuck behind every slow-ass driver on the road, and had to pull over for an ambulance and two fire engines. For every minute that passed, my heart pounded harder and harder in my chest. By the time I reached the club I’d chewed my lip raw, and I was terrified at what I might find when I walked through that door.

Anxiety is no friend of mine, but I know it well. Situations like that one send me into a spiral that goes deep. I can’t stop picturing all the things that could go wrong, may have gone wrong already, or could go wrong in the future.

What if she came out of the bathroom and that dickhead was outside waiting for her and I got there too late?

What if there’s a girl inside who knows him and sends him a text letting him know Desi’s in the bathroom and he corners her in the stall?

What if he’d already drugged her drink?

What if I get inside and I can’t find her? What if I have to fight that guy and I get arrested?

I did end up confronting the guy, and I was actually proud of myself for the way I handled it. Desi got to tell him off, and I got the satisfaction of intimidating the asswipe who made her feel like her only choice was to hide. The entire situation was enough to make her hesitant to schedule another date for the next week.

But she doesn’t have anything to worry about tonight. The man who was supposed to meet her over an hour ago has yet to show, and I don’t think he’s going to. Based on the dejected look on Desi’s face, she feels the same.

“Come on, man,” I say to Cannon as I grab my beer. “Let’s go put her out of her misery.”

We weave through the maze of mahogany tables and black tie–wearing waiters. The closer we get to Desi, the clearer it is that she’s crushed. Her chin rests in her palm, and she stirs her drink with a thin, black straw. If she understood how foolish her quest to find a husband is, she’d save herself a lot of heartache.

Cannon places his hand on her shoulder and gently asks, “Did that asshole stand you up?”

She looks up at him and one side of her mouth lifts in a sad excuse for a smile. “Yeah, looks like it.”

I slide into the chair next to her, and Cannon sits across from us. My plan is to let him handle the relationship stuff. It was obvious the night I told Desi what I thought about falling in love that I wasn’t cut out to help her. I can be the voice of reason—the one who reminds her to google where a guy wants to meet her before going—but I’m not the one to give her encouraging words when a jerk leaves her hanging.

“So much for y’all watching one of my dates from afar to tell me what you think is going wrong—or to make sure he’s not a creeper. He didn’t even have the common decency to show up.” She downs her drink like a champ and clanks the empty glass on the table.

“I have to admit that I wasn’t really down with spying on your entire date anyway,” I say, rolling up my shirt sleeves and setting to work on my beer.

Leaning on an elbow and cocking her head to the side, she says, “Why did you agree to do it, then? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who goes along with things he doesn’t want to do. In fact, you seem like the total opposite.”

She isn’t wrong. And trust me, I struggled with whether or not I should tag along. I would have loved nothing more than to stay home and lose myself in a video game or my latest design for my company. When Cannon suggested we come along to make sure she was all right, he woke up that little nagging voice inside my head. It started giving me one horrible scenario after another. No matter how much I tried to counter it with reason, it kept going. I had to stop it before it spiraled out of control, and the only way to do that was to make sure Desi’s date didn’t get out of hand. Of course, I’d never tell her that.

I shrug and say, “It was a long day of reading contracts and starting a new project for a client. I was hoping the next guy’s lame-ass excuse to get out of a date with you was because he had a pet llama.”

“You’re such a dick, man,” Cannon says, glancing at Desi. “The woman asked us to help. How can you say no to that face?”

Desi scoffs and raises her glass to the bartender, who gives her a sad smile and a nod, as if he’d been serving her drinks for hours and knew her whole unfortunate story. “Looks like Hunter did.”

“Desi—”

“No, seriously,” she says, nodding her thanks when the server brings over her next drink. “What is wrong with me? I’m the common denominator here.”

“It’s not you, Desi. You’re looking for it too hard. Good things have a way of finding you when you least expect them,” Cannon says.

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