Page 58 of Property of Chaos

He smirks—my goddamn skin erupting in goosebumps at the sight—and turns heel. The freaky dude glances down as he walks, the phone screen illuminating his leather vest and face.

A cut, I learned their vests are called when I did my research earlier.

The smartphone is far too fucking useful for curious minds. Especially when it’s so easy to type into a search bar,what are motorcycle clubs like?Fair to say I should probably get my door lock fixed.

“Why won’t you answer me!?” My voice carries to the asshole as he merges with the overgrown field. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, knife as useless as a child’s toy in my hand for how little it bothered Circus.

Deflated and frustrated, I return indoors, checking the locks on all the doors before setting the knife down on my nightstand.My head is filled with utter mayhem, the swirling thoughts inside dragging me under as I drown with overwhelm.

I need to clear the decks.

With a last glance toward the curtains, I reach across and tap my lamp on before retrieving my journal. The cover falls open, a glimmer of red ink visible on the edge of a page. I slide my fingers between the paper and spread the journal wide, reading over his notation.

The silence they give you is a form of closure in itself. Stop expending energy on those who don’t deserve it.

I scan back up the page, over the lines of my entry that he underlined.

I wish they’d care enough to talk to me. Aren’t they curious how I’m doing? Am I that easy to ignore?

My sigh whooshes out as I flick to the unused section at the back and tear out a few pages. If I’m going to unknit this mess in my head, I need to purge everything out. I need to get some semblance of order to these thoughts to reduce the overwhelm by tackling the problems one at a time. With the blank pages propped on the hard front cover, I tug the pen cap off and hover over the blank canvas.Where do I start?Wherever feels right.

Everything around me fades to insignificance when I draw a deep breath and close my eyes.It’s just you and your thoughts.The pen touches the paper, and the words start to flow.

The absence of love feels like punishment…

TWENTY-TWO

CHAOS

All I can thinkas I push my bike along the dark road is how the mighty have fallen. The shit I do for her… There’s no fucking way in hell I’d put myself through this bullshit for anyone else. The Harley weighs six hundred and fifty pounds—a dead weight when the engine isn’t running. My legs ache, reminding me I’ve been too busy to get to the gym the past few weeks. Another fucking thing that drives me crazy.

My brain runs better with routine. When things happen on autopilot as they should so that they’re one less task to expend mental energy on.

I’ve been dumping a fuckload of that energy into this woman of late, and yet, it’s everywhereelsein my life that I itch to cut back. What does that say about me? What the fuck is wrong with me? I could cut this shit right now. Get my ass on the saddle and start the goddamn engine to ride home. She was right—I owe her nothing. And yet…

And yet you push your fucking motorcycle up a rural road at night to avoid waking her.

Circus rises from his spot, leaning against the wooden gate, when he spots me approaching. His long strides carry him tothe edge of the dirt. It was his fucking photo that had me in a goddamn chokehold in the Sheriff’s office, calculating what I needed to say to cut the meeting short. I wasn’t under arrest—yet. Just someone whose cooperation they ‘appreciated.’

A scapegoat in the making.

Seeing Vanessa on my screen, backlit by her cottage lights in nothing but a sweatshirt, kitchen knife clutched in her hand… Jesus wept.

And so did my dick.

“Anything new?” I ask as the scary motherfucker approaches.

He shakes his head, thin dreads rattling. “Been quiet.”

The guy seldom speaks, so when he does, it still takes me by surprise how deep his voice is. “You get inside?”

He nods, his gaze shifting to her windows. “She was gone long enough.” He pulls his phone out and brings up the security app.

I kick out my bike’s stand and then do the same.

The details for the login transfer to my phone, Circus pocketing his as we wait for the feed to load.

“She’s got no idea?”

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