Chaos
Authors: Alexis Noelle
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 Ashley Piscitelli
Cover by Cover Me Darling
Photo by K Keeton Designs
All rights Reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter without written permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table Contents
Acknowledgements
To all the people that help me I am so very thankful. Just to name a few Rachael Duncan, Stephanie Phillips, Missy Borucki, Desirae Shie, Marisa-Shor, Shelly Shur, and Tbird London. Also to my friends, family, and my husband thank you for you everyday support.
To the readers that love the story and the characters you are my rock stars!
Tracie
I drag the rag down the dirty bar top, shaking my head at how much of a mess these boys can make. Shooter tells me I’m too young to party with them; personally, I think it’s crap.
I’ve been around the club for the last three years. I’m pretty sure, at this point, there isn’t anything that they could do to surprise me. Looking at the disaster around me, I can tell this was the biggest party they’ve had in a while. Tomorrow they are losing one of their own. Viper is going away and the boys wanted to give him a proper send off. Which basically means the place was filled with more sluts than they could handle and that it will take me twice as long to make it presentable again.
I can’t help but feel resentful cleaning up after a party that I wasn’t allowed to attend. Ever since my parents died in a car wreck, Shooter, our president, has basically been my adopted dad. My real dad was the VP of this club, he and Shooter grew up together so I’ve known him all my life.
My mom always wanted more for me than to be one of the girls hanging around the club. One of the last things she said to me before her and my dad left that night was about finding a nice boy outside of this world. She knew how violent this life could be and wanted me to find love somewhere that I could breathe easy at night. Not that I ever wanted to hear it. I was stubborn as all hell. The fact that she told me not to only made me want a biker of my own even more.
I move out from behind the bar to try and fix up the main room, my shoes sticking to the dirty floor. As I bend down to pick up a few stray bottles, I hear the sound of feet on the sticky floor behind me.
I spin quickly to see Viper standing there. He took over for my dad as VP. He sways in front of me from the massive amounts of alcohol he had tonight.
“Hey, thought all of you guys passed out already.” I smile, as I move to walk past him to throw out the bottles in my hand.
“Nah, I realized I forgot something.” He steps closer, the smell of alcohol seeping out from his upturned lips.
“Okay, I’ll get out of your way.” I try to move past him again but he steps in front of me.
“You never party with us, it’s a shame.” He takes another step forward and I take one in retreat. Alarms are blaring in my head and all I can think of is that I need to get out of here fast.
“Yeah, well Shooter says I’m too young.” My eyes dart around me looking for an escape as his booted foot takes another step toward me.
“That’s always been his problem. He sees you as a little girl.”
Another step.
“I see you as a woman.”
Another step.
“It’s time someone treated you like one.”
I shoot up in bed, my entire body covered in a layer of sweat. My heart feels like it is going to come right out of my chest. I pull my legs into me as my body shakes with fear.
Just one damn night.
I just want one night to escape from him.
Running my hand through my hair I look over at the clock to see it’s only five in the morning. Jesus.
This is why I’m always a damn zombie. Sleeping four or five hours a night will take a toll on you after a while. Especially when the time you’re supposed to be resting is when your demons come after you.
I grab some clothes and head down the hallway, needing to wash off the memory of him. It’s been more than six years since that night, not that it matters. I step under the water closing my eyes and saying the silent prayer that I do every day.
I pray to forget.
I hear the bathroom door open and am filled with annoyance. “Hello! I’m in here!” I swear none of these boys have any damn respect for privacy. After the attack I was a lot more skittish than I am now, I trust all of the guys here and I know that they would never hurt me.
“Yeah, I know, princess. I just gotta take a leak.”
That voice. Torch.
He came to the club about seven years ago and has been a thorn in my damn side ever since. I’m sure that he probably came in here on purpose just to get under my skin.
“Can’t you boys do that shit anywhere? Isn’t it one of the perks of being a man?”
He laughs. “I’m hurt. What do you think I am an animal?” His sarcastic tone irritates me.
“You all are.”
I see his shadow move closer to the shower and my heartbeat speeds up. “Oh, baby, if you want an animal just say the word.”
I swallow my words. Half of me scared that he might try something, the other half hating that I let Viper affect the way I see every other man. I have known Torch for years and my rational mind knows he would never do anything to hurt me. That part of me isn’t the loudest right now though. I press myself against the cold tile, gaining as much distance as I can. I feel like that scared girl from all those years ago. Blinking away the tears I know shouldn’t be there I try to get a hold of my shaking limbs.
I hear footsteps and the door shut. I know he probably thinks he got the best of me. That I’m sitting here pissed off and trying to come up with a smart-ass reply.
That’s so far from the truth. Right now I’m clutching the pieces of me that were put back together haphazardly and never really healed. I’m trying not to fall apart.
I will not break.
I will not be weak.
I will never give someone else that control over me again.
Tracie
After I get dressed I head out into the common room and see most of the guys sitting around bullshitting with each other. Torch is at one of the small tables, his eyes immediately finding mine. I don’t hold his gaze, instead I walk over to where Shooter is sitting with our current VP, Twisted.
“Hey, I’m heading over to the club early today to get some inventory and stuff done.” I lean down giving Shooter a hug.
“All right, let me know if you need anything, okay?” Shooter’s eyes study me and for a minute, I wonder if he can see through me. If he knows that something is wrong. The guys know what happened to me all those years ago. What they don’t know is how it still haunts me. No one sees that side of me.
“Hey, Trace?” I look over at Twisted. “You good?” His eyes study me.
“Yeah, fine. Just over not having my own bathroom in this testosterone hell.” I shrug at him and then walk outside. I could afford my own place if I wanted, but I can’t bring myself to leave. Even though this is where it happened, it’s also the only place I’ve ever felt safe. Part of that is because I know the guys would do anything for me. The other reason is because that asshole is no longer welcome here. The guys found out about what happened when he tried to go after another old lady the day he got out. He’s been out of the club ever since. This is the one place I know I’m safe from him, protected.
I slide into my car and head to Ambrosia. It’s the club run by the MC and after I turned twenty-one, Shooter put me in charge of it. It gives me something to do with my days aside from hanging around the clubhouse.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I see that it’s Randy texting me. He’s asking if I want to meet him for dinner tonight. I reply yes even though I really don’t have any interest in him. We have been dating for about two months now. After I lost my mom, I was hesitant to get involved with a brother, it was the last thing she asked me. I almost felt like I would be betraying her by dating one of them. After Viper, the thought of being with one of them scared the shit out of me.
Randy is safe. He is an accountant with some firm, completely and utterly boring in every possible way. Torch is always giving me shit about the guys that I date, but it’s been more frequent lately. All I hear from him now is how I’m kidding myself and these stuck-up suits can’t make me happy. I can’t say that he isn’t right. The thrill I get when I’m around the guys, the way I feel when Torch runs his hand down my arm, it doesn’t compare to the silence of being with any normal guy. The difference is that normal won’t get you killed, normal won’t break you into a million unrecognizable pieces.
I walk into the club and head to the back office. Walking behind the desk I freeze. The safe is open. Someone’s been here. I grab my phone and dial Shooter, but he doesn’t answer. My next call is Twisted, but I get his voicemail too. Fuck, what the hell are they all doing. Next in rank is Torch.
He picks up after two rings. “Miss me already, princess?”
“Someone’s been here. The safe is open.” I talk quickly, my fear evident in the shakiness of my voice.
“Fuck. I’m coming.”
I hear a bang and my stomach drops. “They’re still here.” I try to whisper but I still want him to hear me.
“What? Where are you, Trace?” I can hear the panic rising in his deep voice and the pounding of boots. He must be running.
“I’m in the office.” My teeth gnaw at my bottom lip.
“Lock the door! I need to get on my bike. Call Whip. He’s at the clubhouse and stay on the damn phone with him.” I nod. “Tracie!”
“O-Okay.” I take the few steps to the door locking the doorknob.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can.” The line goes dead.
I pull the phone away from my ear and scroll to Whip’s number. A loud bang on the door makes me yelp, and I drop my phone. It skids across the floor and is sitting right in front of the door.
“I know you’re in there.” A voice booms from the other side. I don’t recognize it.
The door shakes from the man pounding on it. I scoot backward wedging myself between the wall and the file cabinet.
The small space makes me feel like I’m suffocating.
It brings me back to the last time I felt so helpless.
The yelling from the other side of the door becomes muted.
I can feel the panic start to set in. The anxiety in my body building.
I can hear his voice in my ear.
“Don’t scream, no one will come. They won’t hear you.”
I can feel his hand around my throat.
The way his heavy body envelops mine making me feel trapped.
There’s no escape.
Tears flow down my face.
I can feel him pulling at me.
This time I fight.
My feet kick out hitting flesh as I scrape my fingernails down whatever skin they can find.
“Tracie!”
That voice. It’s different.
I open my eyes to see Torch standing in front of me. A mix of anger and fear etched across his face. His hand reaches for me and I flinch.
“It’s me, come on.” His voice that is normally rough as nails is almost calming and coaxes me out of the frenzied state I’m in.
This time he only extends his hand to me and waits for me to take it. After a minute I do, letting him help me out of the tiny space. As I stand up he seems to be assessing me.
“What happened? Whip said you never called. I checked the club but whoever it is they must have run out of here when they heard my bike. Everyone else is on their way.” I look over at the door, which is hanging off the hinges now. His hands trail up and down my arms in an attempt to comfort me. “You gotta talk to me. Say something.”
“I-I dropped my phone. He was outside the door.” My chest is heaving, but thankfully the anxiety is starting to calm down.
“Shit, you okay?”
I nod. It’s a lie. I haven’t been okay for years. I put on an act like I don’t give a shit about anything because it’s the only way I can hide my pain from them.
“You okay to stay here? I need to check the rest of the place.” I can hear the rumble of bikes in the distance. The cavalry is here.
“Yeah.” I take a couple side steps and sink down into a chair. Resting my head in my hands I try to concentrate on my breathing, leveling it out, getting back that control that I’ve worked so hard to develop and maintain all these years.
