Page 41 of Property of Chaos

My words trigger him to let go. He watches me stumble when I regain my footing. “You’re right.” Chaos shrugs. “You’re nothing to me.”

The barbs tighten around my heart, and I physically flinch at the sensation.

Concern flashes in his eyes as my shoulders curl forward. “But Icare,” he says, spitting the word. “Because nothing you wrote about in that fucking journal was of your own doing, and it makes me sad.” His face contorts as though the emotion is an unfamiliar one. “It makes me sad that you’ve been let down so many damn times, and ain’t anyone done anything for you to set that right. Nobody stood up to fight on your behalf. You just got… left out.” He shakes his head, lifting a hand to rub it through his hair. “That shit ain’t right.”

It’s also nothing new. I know this. I’ve felt it, tearing at my heart for decades.

Nobody fought for me.

I had to learn how to fight for myself.

And it meant shit. Because even though I’m now free, nothing has changed.Hestill manipulates people for his twisted agenda. He still fucks over people’s lives and divides families, all in the name of cleaning up the ‘blights of society.’ Under the guise of charity. Community.

Fighting for myself was the least gallant thing I could have done.

It was selfish, and I pay for it every fucking day when I wake and realize nothing is different—he’s still thriving, and I’m still dead on the inside.

“There’s nothing I can do,” I whisper, rubbing my wrist where he held me. “There’s fucking nothing I can do to change it.”

“Youdon’t have to do anything,” Chaos bites. “That’s what I’m telling you, Vanessa. Make me your hand of justice. Fucking use me. In whatever way you want, however you need, but don’t let this fucker get away with what he did to you.” He shakes his head as he speaks, edging closer. “You don’t want to be as depraved as he is,” he states, using my written words against me. “I get it. But I already am.” Chaos smirks, close enough to touch. “My place in hell is reserved for me. Don’t let it be in vain.”

“You don’t owe me anything, though.” I search his gaze, flicking back and forth between the deepening blue and darkening brown. “Why do this for me?”

“Why not?”

I frown.

“Tell me why not,” he repeats, lifting a hand to brush roughened fingertips against the exposed inch of my collarbone. “What makes you unworthy of my help?”

“I don’t understand.”

His touch increases in pressure, testing, teasing. “You ask me why I should do this for you, but my question is, why shouldn’tI? Asking why I should insinuates that you’re not worthy of my help. But maybe it’s me who’s not worthy of your need.”

“You think you’re not good enough for me?”

“Isn’t that what you’re telling me about yourself by saying I don’t owe you anything? Saying that you have to earn other people’s help before they should give it to you?”

“But..”Fuck.He has a point. What’s wrong with accepting help when it’s given without expectation? Isn’t that what I’d do for someone in need? Offer them my help without first measuring their worth?

His nostrils flare, dilated pupils blazing with need as I relent to his reasoning. “Use me, Vanessa,” he rasps. “I’m fucking begging you to.” His thumb strokes my throat, fingertips steady against my neck.

“What do you get from this?” I whisper.

Regardless of whether or not he gives his help freely, there must be some kickback. Surely. Nobody is genuinely that selfless.

“You.” Chaos’s focus drops to my mouth. “I get you.”

The air feels too hot, too thick. I struggle to breathe, and it dawns on me why. We share the same air—we’rethatclose. I eye the crisp cupid’s bow of his upper lip, the dusting of a mustache, and the slight dimple of his chin covered by a short goatee. I’ve never found facial hair appealing before, but on Chaos, it’s like art, highlighting the curve of his lover’s lips.

“Are you going to stare at me all night, or come get what’s yours?”

Mine?I seek his gaze and find hooded eyes dark with desire.He really wants this.He really wants me.

“I can’t.” The words sour in my stomach. “Not yet.”

Chaos exhales heavily. Disappointed. Yet he doesn’t move. Nor does he remove his hand from my neck.

I’m grateful.

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