Page 33 of Quiet Chaos

“So, you were planning on having men rape Sky?”

Snots and spit dribble down his mouth, spitting as he begs, “Please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize to me.”

I ram the bat into his stomach. He tries to catch his breath between coughs and my hand grips his hair, throwing his head back. Pulled high on his tippy toes, I kick his feet, and he screams when his weight jerks at his wrists.

“It’s not fun to be helpless. To know you can’t do anything to save yourself.”

My fist hits his face, snapping his head back, blood splattering from his nose. I take out a piece of cloth to wipe away the blood from my hand.

He shakes his head and then continues to plead with me. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything. I’ll apologize to Sky. I have friends who have good drugs I can hook you up with. Please!”

As I wipe each finger, I say, “An apology won’t heal what you did to Sky. It won’t take away all the suffering she is going through.”

I throw a jab followed by a right uppercut. More blood drips down his shirt.

“Big mistake. I don’t do drugs, nor do I deal.” I circle him. “Is that why you brought Sky here? To deal drugs?”

Christoff’s head is shaking wildly. “It was to take care of Sky. A big drug deal and I got a shitload of money. I’ve only done two more. I’ll give you all the money you—”

Another jab shuts him up. The bat slides along my palm as I walk behind him, gauging where to strike. All I can do is hope for the outcome I want. I lift the bat, yank it backwards, and without putting all my might into it, slam it against his upper back. His head flips forward with a scream.

***

After I took care of Christoff, I decide to erase it from my mind. I smell food when I walk into the house, wondering if Patsy came by. Entering the kitchen, Sky is mixing chili, back hunched and hugging her side.

“Hi, Cade. How was your day?”

I cock my eyebrow at her. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to rest.”

She waves her hand as if wiping away my comments. “I’m fine. I need to exercise. Besides, it’s been three weeks.”

Sky’s jeans hang low on her hips, exposing skin above the waistband. Those breasts of hers are incognito under the sweatshirt. My mind goes straight to the gutter. How I would love to toss her on the counter and bury myself inside her. And those lips of hers make me want to taste them…except I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. Since my mother’s death. It’s toopersonal. Too intimate. No one I’ve thought enough about to be that close. Until now.

Sky hobbles around the kitchen. Her hair is in a ponytail. Even without makeup, those long lashes and amber eyes are enough for me. My tongue wets my lips, and my erection presses against the zipper of my jeans. It’s a damn good thing the kitchen island is long. Ever since I stripped Sky of her clothes, I have flashes of her in my mind. I tried not to notice, but I couldn’t always avoid it. So supple, and she folds around my body like a shawl.

She snaps me from thought, gesturing to sit.

I stop her and say, “I’ll bring the bowls over. We don’t need Armstrong shitting all over the place from kidney beans because you dumped it on the floor.”

Sky giggles, taking a seat, and asking again about my day.

“A bloody mess.” Her face grows serious, and I sigh and say, “The usual, Sky.”

We eat in silence. It’s done and over with. Sky keeps offering Armstrong oyster crackers under the table. I give her an “all-knowing” glance and she purses her lips to stifle a laugh. Those dimples brighten her face. Hell, they brighten my existence.

I have chili balancing on my spoon as I watch Sky eat and pet her favorite buddy. She is adorable with how the simple things in life make her happy. All the pain she’s experienced hasn’t left her jaded. The chili falls off the spoon from clenching it while I think about the asshole who hurt her. But I remind myself I took care of him.Forget about it.My dainty Sky deserves a better life.

Sky catches me staring and asks, “What?”

My smile makes her blush, so I figure now is the best time to bring it up. “It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

She sits straighter. “Already?”

I push my bowl aside, lean back, and take a sip of my bourbon. “We celebrate Thanksgiving at the clubhouse.”

She stiffens and gulps. “Do you mind if I stay home?”

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