Page 105 of Property of Chaos

I flick back to the security app to find the feed hasn’t changed.

He’s not even home.Damn it.My shoulders drop, and I set the phone aside before my heart clenches with a violent realization.If he’s not home…I dash to the window.

“Fuck’s sake, Vanessa.”

Nobody’s there. No sign of Chaos. No glint of Circus. The roadside is still save for the slight sway of the grass seedheads in the light breeze.

I told him to stop interfering, and he did as I wished. Why does that gut me so much?

I’m officially gone. Head over heels for the source of trouble set to make his home across the road from mine.

Turning back to the room, I stand with my hands hanging at my sides and stall. Eating doesn’t seem so important anymore. Fuck—nothing does. I’m in a state of suspension until this fucking reading is over and done with. Stuck on pause, mind on the task ahead, unable to start anything new.

My upper back aches, muscles in my chest tight from the constant panic attacks.

I’d forgotten how shit this feels. How oppressive.It’s only temporary.Nothing lasts forever.

Not my fucked up nervous system.

Nothim.

Everything has a season, and this is merely the winter of discontent.

I heave a sigh to get my fucking body moving and cross to the bed, lifting the tiny device in my hand. Do I let him continue towatch me? Chaos gave me an out. A chance to end this madness like I wanted.

He showed me the door and opened the exit, waiting to see if I’d cross through.

I guess this is his version of asking if I’d like to leave.

I rub the heel of my free hand to my closed eye and groan.

He stalked me. Let himself in my house and watched me. Fucking sat across the road to keep tabs on me like some animal in a zoo. Showed up at my goddamn workplace after assaulting the doctor.

I could make a fucking quilt out of the red flags he provided. And yet…And yet.

He’s the first person to throw the rule book out the window when it comes to keeping me safe.

Marianna cares about me. Theresa is kind.

But Chaoslovesme.

Me.

As I am. Fucked up and mentally twisted from the upbringing I had athishand.

I could argue that it’s not a reason to continue this madness. Having a man want me for me isn’t a valid excuse for his behavior. But I know what has my chest ache. What makes my hand shake as I study the small camera, wondering how I turn it off.

Chaos showed me who he was from the start. He never hid his odd behavior or masked his intentions.

He gave me the raw and ugly truth from the outset, and for that, I fell hard.

I fell headfirst for the sum of everything wrong in my life, and I’m still falling as I set the camera atop my dresser, angled so he has a clear view of my bed, same as I do his.

If I were to reject him based on his flaws, then what else would that make me but a hypocrite?

Nobody is perfect.But we all deserve love.

In all its twisted forms.

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