Chaos by Sarah Bailey

Twenty Five

Drake

I’d lain awake half the fucking night cursing myself for the way I’d kissed her. Why did she erode my control? Why did having her here make me so fucking insane? I could barely stand the distance between us even though I’d put it there. And I was utterly done with everyone accusing me of not caring about her. They fucking well knew I did. I’d fought so hard to get her back. Gone to extreme lengths to return Scarlett to us. Me. I’d done that.

My little wisp. I brought her back to us.

Her not knowing I cared was more than I could take. The way I cared for her couldn’t be quantified. I was just fucking realistic about what we were dealing with. And after overhearing what Stuart fucking Carver said to her last night, and the way she’d behaved towards me, I was right to be damn well suspicious and reticent when it came to dealing with her.

“I’ll bring you back here and then your life won’t be worth living.”

What the fuck did he mean by her life wouldn’t be worth living? Hadn’t they treated her well whilst she’d been with them? Had they… hurt her?

I would fucking gut the cunt if he’d laid a hand on her. I’d drain him dry of his damn blood because he deserved nothing less. If anyone hurt our woman, I would stop at nothing to ruin them alongside Prescott, Francis and West. We’d hunt them down together. And we’d bathe in their misery before the end.

Scarlett wasn’t going to tell me what her father meant. And I doubted she’d tell the others. It became very clear to me when she started acting all cagey, she was afraid of Stuart. Terrified of him. In fact, I had a feeling she must fear him more than she did us, because why else would she be here? Why would she have gone to these lengths when she had a glimpse of who we were hiding underneath our façades?

It was why I’d called the others together. Prescott had left Scarlett in his room to watch TV in bed whilst we gathered in the room next to our home gym. The one she didn’t know existed. Francis had dubbed it the war room. It contained everything we’d found in our search for Scarlett. One wall was plastered with pictures of her. Everyone connected to her. Everything we had on the Carvers. All of our memories and mementoes of the girl we’d lost. The things we hoped to show her when she returned to us. But Scarlett wasn’t whole yet. She didn’t remember who we were. This place had to remain a secret until she did.

West stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest and had his eyes glued to the last photo we’d taken of the five of us together at sixteen. We looked so young. All of us were smiling. Scarlett stood in the middle between West, who had his arm wrapped around her, and Prescott. Francis was next to Prescott and me on the end with West. Our little gang of five who had stuck by each other through thick and thin.

Fuck, I miss those days. We had our whole lives ahead of us. And now we’re fractured. It’s not fair.

Prescott walked over to it and ran his fingers over the photo.

“Little Nyx,” he murmured.

He looked at West who narrowed his eyes but didn’t comment on our childhood nickname for Scarlett. We all knew why West hated it so much. The reminder of the night everything had fallen to shit wasn’t a pleasant one for any of us, but for him… it was worse.

“What’s this about, Drake?” Francis asked as he took a seat at the table we had in the centre of the room.

I took a chair at the head of the table and leant my elbows on it. We hadn’t been in here since she’d come to work for us. There was no need. But right now, we required somewhere safe to talk where she couldn’t overhear us.

“I found Scarlett up late last night in the living room, speaking to Stuart on the phone.”

Prescott whipped his head around and stared at me.

“I woke up when she came back to bed, but I didn’t ask her what she’d been doing.”

None of them were surprised by me being up. They all knew about my bouts of insomnia. Right now, it was so bad I was barely getting a few hours in every night. Francis had commented on it, telling me to take my damn sleeping pills. I knew I should listen to him. However, now I’d found Scarlett in the living room when she should be in bed, it made me want to keep an eye on her even when everyone else was asleep. Prescott should have locked his fucking door last night. That was the agreement, so she didn’t wander around in places she shouldn’t be. I’d have to remind all of them.

“He was having a go at her.”

“Did you hear what he said?” Francis asked, a concerned expression flitting across his face.

I rubbed my wrist with my fingers.

“A little and I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.”

West shoved off the wall and walked over to the table before leaning on it with both hands.

“What did he say?”

The irritation in his amber eyes was very apparent.

“He said something about bringing her back home and her life wouldn’t be worth living if that happened. So I took her phone, told him she needed to go back to bed and hung up on him. She, of course, denied anything was wrong, but I don’t believe her.”

West’s hands curled into fists.

“That cunt, if he’s hurt her—”

I put my hand up.

“I know, but we can’t be sure he has been. I’m not sure of anything right now.”

The whole thing had rattled me. Overhearing her conversation. Her denial. The way she’d accused me of not caring about her. And the kiss. The damn fucking kiss. She stole my self-control. Ruined it. She was wrecking me on the inside and I had no clue what the fuck to do about it. How to stop this descent into hell. Because this was absolute hell for me. The worst fucking kind of insanity.

West shoved off the table and paced away, his back rigid with his anger.

“I’m going to kill him. He deserves it. The motherfucker deserves to be gutted. He needs a fucking slow and painful death. He took her. He took what’s ours.”

Prescott and Francis watched West pace the length of the table. We all agreed with him. Stuart Carver deserved to die for everything he’d done.

“We can’t do anything to him,” I said after a minute.

West almost slammed his fist into the wall. Instead, he stopped and slapped his palm against it, breathing heavily.

“I know. I fucking hate it, but I know.”

There were so many reasons we had never been able to go after Stuart Carver, the owner of the premier league football club, Rotherhithe United. The first being that very fact. He was a prominent and rich man. Not to mention the circles he ran in. Friends in high places. Politicians. Celebrities. The criminal underworld. The man had been rather good friends with Frank Russo before he got offed. And worst of all, his best mate had become the Met Police Commissioner a few years ago. We’d had a run-in with Garrett Jones when he was still a Detective Inspector. No way any of us wanted to get back on his radar.

Our biggest obstacle always came down to one thing. You tried to off a man like Stuart Carver, you’d bring a world of trouble down on your head.

Besides, we couldn’t kill him when he had Scarlett and he knew it. He fucking well knew it. It’s why he took her. He took her to punish us. To say we had a vendetta against the man was an understatement. The four of us wanted to burn his fucking football stadium to the ground and destroy everything he’d built.

Even now, when we had Scarlett back, going after him would be a gamble. Especially while Scarlett had no idea who she was. Who she’d been. And why we’d even got ourselves into this mess.

“So what do you want to do about this then?” Francis asked when none of us said anything for a few minutes.

“First of all, if you have her with you at night, lock your door so she can’t leave. We do not need her finding anything she shouldn’t, especially not this room.”

Prescott rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I got a little… distracted last night.”

“Let me guess, you were too busy giving her a dick down,” West said, pulling away from the wall and smirking at Prescott.

Prescott dug his hands in his pockets and tried not to smile.

“Maybe. You jealous?”

I knew for a fact West hadn’t touched Scarlett intimately since the night we’d given her E. He’d kept his distance. I wasn’t entirely sure why or what was going through his head.

“As if.”

“She wanted it this morning, but someone called a meeting.”

West’s smirk got wider.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, so I’d quite like to wrap this shit up.”

West turned away, but not before I caught him biting his lip as if he was planning something.

“This is important,” I said, not wanting to get in between him and Prescott.

I watched Prescott roll his eyes.

“Yes, I know, Drake… but when your woman wants your dick, you give it to her.”

“Apparently, I missed the memo.”

Francis and West snorted. The way Prescott smiled at me had me narrowing my eyes.

“Well, you see, the way I hear it, it’s your fault she’s all worked up and in need of release.”

I almost choked on my own breath.

What the fuck?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Francis looked at Prescott.

“I thought you said you didn’t ask her what happened.”

Prescott shrugged.

“I asked why she was so horny and she placed the blame at Drake’s door but refused to say any more. So, tell us, Drake, what did you do to Scarlett last night after you caught her?”

Clenching my jaw shut, I rested my palms flat on the table. No fucking way I was telling them about the kiss. The godforsaken fucking insane kiss between us.

“Hmm, it’s not the first time she’s been all turned on and shit after an encounter with you,” Francis said, crossing his arms over his chest and levelling his gaze on me. “Are you holding out on her?”

“What the fuck is this? Question me about my relationship with Scarlett day? I didn’t sign up for that.”

West barked with laughter, making my face fall further. Why the fuck were these lot trying to mess with me?

“Well, if you’d just fuck her instead of punishing her, then we wouldn’t have to say anything,” Prescott said, giving me a wink.

“You’re all a bunch of cunts, you know that right?”

“Says the man who seems to be a little scared of Scarlett’s cunt right now,” West said with a grin.

I stood up and glared at the idiots I called my best friends. They were getting on my last fucking nerve. My ability to keep myself in check was already shot to pieces by that damn woman last night and now this bullshit.

“Fuck. Off.”

“Hit a sore spot, have we?” Prescott said.

I clenched my fists, trying to rein in my temper. Trying not to lose my shit with them. This was not what we were meant to be discussing.

“We are here to talk about Stuart, not my relationship with Scarlett.”

Francis rolled his eyes.

“What do you want us to do, Drake? Ask her outright if Stuart’s been hurting her? She’s not going to tell us anything.”

“This is why I keep saying we need her to remember the past,” Prescott said, waving his hand at me. “And we need to do it soon. She’s not going to trust us until she knows the truth.”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I paced away. He had a point. Maybe I was scared of her remembering. Scared of the repercussions. A huge part of me didn’t want her to know what happened the night of her accident. It changed everything. But I knew it wasn’t fair to keep it from her either.

“We’ve already deviated from the plan by bringing her here.”

“We’re gambling with a real person. One we all care about, no matter what happened in the past or why she’s here now. Plans change… or we wouldn’t all be fucking her now, would we.”

I sighed and turned back to them.

“You’re right. She is a person and it’s something we have to handle delicately. We can’t go off half-cocked and fuck her up even worse. Let’s revisit this when we’ve all had time to think about it and come up with a potential solution, okay?”

The three of them gave me a nod of agreement. I needed a minute to work out how we should go about this. What would be the safest way? I mean, we weren’t known for doing anything ‘safely’ but Scarlett and her amnesia weren’t something we could afford to mess around with. Our mere presence clearly wasn’t working fast enough.

“And don’t ask her about Stuart. Do not press her about any of it. We need her to think we’re not suspicious. It’s the only way she’s going to let her guard down.”

I wanted to know everything that had gone on in the Carver household, but pressurising Scarlett wouldn’t get us anywhere. We needed to approach it from a different angle.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, we get it,” Prescott said.

“Good.”

“Are we done?” West asked.

I nodded, wanting to be alone with my own thoughts to calm the fuck down.

He looked at Prescott who narrowed his eyes at our friend.

“What are you planning?”

West merely grinned and moved towards the door.

“West.”

He unlocked it, pulled the door open and turned his head back to look at us.

“It’s between me and her.”

West walked out, shutting the door behind him and leaving Prescott glaring.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything about her being horny,” he grumbled. “He’s going to fuck with her, isn’t he?”

“You should know West will use any excuse,” Francis said with a chuckle and a shrug.

Prescott shook his head and rubbed his chin.

“Fuck.”

I didn’t give a shit what West did. Ignoring Prescott and Francis, I walked out. They could damn well fight it out amongst themselves. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with them any longer after they’d given me a hard time. I made my way underneath the stairs and opened the door to the stairwell. If I was ever going to get my head on straight, I needed to get away from these idiots for a while. And try to find my equilibrium again.