Page 16 of Craving Chaos

A man lingering in the back casually pushes to the center of our little party. His short brown hair is greasy with a sheen that highlights the evil glint in his black eyes. No one’s eyes are truly black, but I swear this man is an exception.

His unrushed movements shift effortlessly into a punch when he levels a mean right hook square into Renzo’s jaw. The guy is big, and he knows how to hit, yet Renzo takes the hit as if doled out by a child. He’s not even set off balance.

When he brings his malicious blue stare back to the man, his tongue swipes a tinge of crimson blossoming on his bottom lip as though savoring a drop of ice cream. “One last chance, or I promise this will end very badly for you,” Renzo says in a tone so calm and even that goose bumps tease the back of my neck.

I don’t get the sense threats will work on these men, but I’m not sure Renzo got that memo. He’s the type who’s used to people withering beneath a simple glare from his direction. I have to fight back tendrils of envy. I could be the deadliest person in a room and never garner the respect Renzo can command simply by virtue of his size and stature. That sort of disparity would normally frustrate me, but in Renzo’s case, I think he may actually deserve the respect. He’s levelheaded, strategic, confident, brave, and more than a little tough.

Shit. I think I may actually like the guy.

I don’t get the chance to ponder my revelation when Mr. Black Eyes barks orders in a foreign tongue. His men shift into action, securing our wrists with a new set of zip ties and scurrying about the room with renewed purpose. Something is about to happen, and I have no goddamn clue what.

CHAPTER 7

RENZO

Irony is such a little bitch. I’d chided Shae in my mind for banging on the door. It was impulsive and reckless. I’m of the opinion we’d be better served coming up with a calculated plan rather than going off half-cocked. Then I go and bust through the door trying to get to her.

She brought attention to herself, and there’s no telling what those assholes might do to her. Sure, she’s tougher than most women, but she’s not superhuman despite what she might think. It’s like she has no interest or awareness of her own safety.

Images of what a group of desperate men could do to a woman started to assault me when I heard Shae get tossed around in the hall. And because life loves to make hypocrites of us all, I ignored my own safety and abandoned all strategy by plowing through the door like a goddamn wrecking ball. Nearly tore the thing from its hinges. I had to get to her. If these guys lay one fucking finger on her … I’ll use my last breath making them pay.

What is it about this woman that she makes me lose my fucking mind? I feel like I’m constantly having to react instead of act with her around. Like she’s a human tornado—unpredictable and capable of total devastation.

I prefer to maintain a controlled environment, but that’s impossible with her around.

And now we’re back together, but something’s happening around us that has me on edge. It looks like they’re packing up—preparing to leave—and I have no idea what that means for us.

We’ve been ordered to sit against a wall in the main room. A young guy stands watch over us with a gun while the rest of the crew packs up.

“Looks like he’s got a huge cock.” She eyes the guard above us while I try to keep my head from exploding.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Shae.” The growled curse is half disbelief and half reprimand. Is she trying to get herself raped?

“Relax, big guy.” Amusement twists her lips with a smirk as her scrutinizing stare finally drops from the guard. “It was a test. Now we know he doesn’t speak English—not even the tiniest flinch at what I said.”

Fuck, she’s going to give me a coronary. “A little heads-up would have been nice.”

“And tip him off? That would have made the whole thing pointless.”

God, I hate it when she’s right.

“What now?” I ask under my breath.

“We know there’s eight of them.”

“I could probably take three but no more at once.”

“Same.”

The skepticism I feel must have shown through on my face because Shae shoots me a withering glare.

“Not that any of that matters with these damn zip ties are on.” I pull at my bindings, but all it does is bite into my skin.

“Leave that to me,” she says almost inaudibly. Her blue eyes meet mine, and though I’m not sure exactly what she has planned, it’s clear she has something in mind.

A nauseating cocktail of relief and dread roil in my gut.

“Listen, don’t do anything that will get you killed. I don’t want to have to explain to your cousins why I came back alive, and you didn’t.”

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