Chaos by Sarah Bailey

Seven

Prescott

Misery. Abject fucking misery. It’s all this damn shit had brought me. West’s ideas had only ever led to trouble. And now I’d lost the most precious thing I’d ever had.

Her.

Not that Scarlett was a thing, but she’d been mine. She still was on some level, just not the one I wanted. No, I got stuck with her saying she hated me. I didn’t believe her, but it still cut me hearing those words out of her mouth not once but twice.

I spent the entire night tossing and turning, trying to understand how one woman had me so tangled up inside. How did my little lamb make me feel so fucking much? I’d always cared for Scarlett, but seeing her again after all these years, the strong but fractured woman she’d grown into, was something else. She made me vulnerable. And I hated it. Hated how I felt so weakened by her. Like I couldn’t do what I had to because she wouldn’t like it. Because it would hurt her. That’s all my actions had done. Caused her pain.

Remorse was an alien feeling to me. I didn’t regret what we’d done, but I felt the guilt of hurting her wash over me in waves of excruciating agony. For putting her in that situation. The thing Scarlett didn’t know was how fucking strong she was. How powerful she’d been last night. She hadn’t been afraid to tell us all to go fuck ourselves after it happened. Maybe she didn’t fear the repercussions. After all, what was worse than being forced to kill a man?

Well, in my mind, a lot of things, but I enjoyed killing. We all did. Scarlett didn’t think like us, but maybe she would… in time.

“Would you stop brooding? I can hear you thinking from over here.”

I looked up from where I was staring out the window of our living space. West stood in the kitchen scowling at me.

“Fuck off,” I muttered.

“She’s not going to stay mad at you forever.”

I glared at him.

“She should be mad at you.”

He scoffed.

“She knows what she’s getting when it comes to me.” He pointed at his chest. “Violence is in my fucking nature, I showed her from the start… but you… well, she saw something else and she hates you for destroying the illusion.”

Fuck did I want to throw something at his head. Why did he have to start on me? It was too fucking early for his shit, especially after the night we’d all had.

“What illusion?”

“I saw the way she looked at you, Pres, like you’re her fucking saviour. Too bad she didn’t see beneath the damn mask and find the self-involved narcissist living inside that well-turned-out exterior of yours.”

“I’m not a fucking narcissist.”

I was sick to death of the three of them accusing me of it.

“No? Don’t you love it when people worship you? When they appeal to your fucking ego, huh? You play up to it. The world revolves around Prescott Ellis, his wants and needs.”

My fists clenched at my sides, but I didn’t rise to his bait. I could feel Drake’s eyes boring holes into the back of my head. He was sat having coffee at the table. If I went after West, Drake would only tell me to calm the fuck down.

“Whatever, West, at least I’m not a psychopath.”

Drake snorted.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.”

West took a step towards me.

“West. Enough,” came Drake’s voice.

“He called me a psychopath.”

“Well, he’s not exactly wrong.”

“Fuck you.”

I turned and glanced at Drake who was giving West one of his ‘quit being a cunt’ looks. If he was going to give me shit, I’d give it right back. It’s how we did things around here.

“Why am I not surprised you’re already at each other’s throats and it’s barely nine in the morning.”

All of us looked at the stairs finding Francis strolling down them with his hands in his pockets.

“Why do you look so fucking cheerful, Frankie?” West said, giving him daggers.

“For the last fucking time, it’s Francis.”

“And there he is, I knew it wouldn’t last long.”

Francis flipped him the finger before he walked over to Drake. He sipped his coffee as he levelled his gaze on our friend.

“How is she?”

“Okay, I think. Still asleep, but given she woke me up in the middle of the night screaming, hardly surprising.”

Drake’s jaw ticked.

“Did you do something to her?”

Francis ran his fingers across the table.

“No, she has nightmares. I think when she feels safe, they don’t disturb her. At least, her sleep wasn’t further disturbed when I was next to her.”

My heart cracked. The night she’d spent with me she’d not woken up once. Had she felt safe with me? I’d gone and fucked it all up.

What a fucking idiot.

“You made her feel safe?”

Francis raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not hard to hold a girl and let her cry. She didn’t need me being a dick to her after last night.”

“She cried?”

“What the fuck, Drake? Of course she fucking cried. She killed someone. Just because it’s easy for you and me, doesn’t mean she isn’t affected. I swear it’s like you lot forget we aren’t the norm, and most human beings would be wracked with guilt over taking another’s life.”

For once in his life, Drake looked contrite, but it didn’t take long for his expression to clear.

“Are you sure leaving her alone in your room is a good idea?”

Francis rolled his eyes as he strolled away to the kitchen.

“Quit worrying, she’s sleeping. Even if she snoops, she won’t find anything other than my ropes, which she already knows about.”

“Do I even want to know how?”

Francis gave him a wink.

“Probably not.”

Our intercom by the lift started buzzing. Drake hauled himself up from his chair and went over to it, pressing down on the button.

“Yes?”

“Good morning, Mr Ackley, there’s someone who wants to see you at reception,” came the voice of Anton, the security guy who usually worked weekends.

We had twenty-four-seven security for our building. It was needed when we lived here. We didn’t get visitors on Sundays, so this was rather unusual.

“Who is it?”

“He says his name is Mason Jones.”

All of us froze. What the fuck was he doing here? Had he already worked out we’d taken Scarlett? Highly likely, since we’d come and taken her without a fucking by-your-leave whilst he wasn’t there.

“Send him up to our offices, I’ll meet him there.”

“Yes, Mr Ackley.”

Drake moved away from the intercom, rubbing his chin.

“Well, guess we have to deal with him sooner than expected.”

“If you’d let me kill the prick, we wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again,” West said.

“Wouldn’t you rather torture the poor fucker until he cries like a baby?” Francis asked, opening the fridge.

“I suppose breaking him would be sweeter.”

“No one is killing Mason,” Drake interjected. “Pres, you’re coming with me.”

I glared at Drake.

“Fuck off, I don’t want to see that cunt.”

Drake pressed the button for the lift.

“Considering Scarlett hates your guts right now, you can’t stay to keep an eye on her. And you know what will happen if I take West. Francis is the only one she’s talking to, so deal with it.”

He didn’t want to go alone. A wise move. Mason wouldn’t do anything to him, but you could never be too careful.

“Fine,” I grumbled, walking over to the lift and crossing my arms over my chest. “But I’m not talking to him.

“You don’t have to. Keep your mouth shut and watch my back.”

I wanted to stay and talk to Scarlett, even if she was pissed off at me. Perhaps I could later, if West didn’t wind her up first. Scratch that, he was bound to. The fucker was like a dog with a bone. He enjoyed toying with her. I didn’t trust Francis to keep West off her case. And Drake wouldn’t be there to keep him in line either.

I hope you’re still angry enough not to take his shit, sweetness.

Our girl was so brave and strong. She could take on the world if she wanted.

The lift arrived. Drake and I walked in, me still scowling and wanting to be anywhere else. As it descended, he turned to me.

“You need to pull your shit together, Pres. We all agreed to what happened last night.”

It didn’t matter if I agreed to it. It hurt Scarlett and we were all fucking well responsible for it.

“When are we going to talk to her about the past?”

“She needs to remember it on her own.”

I threw my arms up.

“How is she going to remember if we don’t help her, huh? We are the only connection she has to it left. Us. We are her family. Everything else has been destroyed, ruined by them.”

Drake’s expression fell.

“Don’t you think I know that? Quit acting like this isn’t difficult for me.”

“You sure about that? From where I’m standing, you act like you don’t give a shit when it comes to her.”

The lift doors slid open.

“We don’t have time for this right now,” he hissed, giving me a dark look before striding out.

I wanted to pull him back in here and give him a piece of my mind, but even I knew we couldn’t afford to be divided in the face of Mason. Drake’s apparent disregard for Scarlett’s feelings had begun to grate on me. Crazy to think I’d been on board with everything… until she came back. Until she showed me glimpses of the girl I’d known before. Until she showed me her heart. And now I was fucking lost. All I wanted was her. To breathe her in. To feel her against me. To hear her laugh. To hear her moan and cry out my name.

You’re falling for her, you know that, right? You’re falling in love.

I told my brain to get fucked as I walked out of the lift. Drake was leaning against Tonya’s empty desk, waiting for the other lift to arrive. The one containing a man we all hated with a passion. We had a very good reason for it. Hell, we had good reasons for everything we’d done. The world might not consider them right, just or moral, but we weren’t mindless beasts who killed for sport. Not even West, though he acted like it sometimes.

I leant up against the window, staring down at the city below. The view always soothed me. Reminded me of how we ruled over it from high above. I’d never stopped viewing humanity as ants toiling day in, day out, for their scraps. Controlled by the rich who liked to keep them under their feet. Subservient. Capitalism was a cruel, unforgiving ruler. One that benefited the few and kept the masses from rising up. It gave us a landing pad upon which we formed our company. We rose because we knew the system. We played it to our advantage. We fucking cheated it. Now we could sit back and watch it all burn.

The second lift’s doors opened. I turned in time to see Mason walking out, his face like thunder.

“Where the fuck is she?” he ground out, his fists clenching at his sides as he came to a standstill in the middle of the lobby.

Drake merely regarded him with a neutral expression.

“Where is who?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Drake, where is Scarlett!”

Drake gave a semi-nonchalant shrug.

“Where do you think she is, Mason?”

Little did Scarlett know, but we had already encountered her friend many times over the years. It was simple. He hated us. We hated him. And the fact we all knew he clearly had feelings for Scarlett made it worse. She was ours first. She would always be ours. No matter what he did, he couldn’t compete with the four of us. Scarlett would never see him the way she did us. Never. And he was fucking sour about it no doubt. Likely why he taunted all of us at the awards event when he’d danced with her. He wanted us to think he had a fucking chance with our girl. He had none. Zero.

One day, she’d find out the truth of what he’d done to her. What he’d done to all of us. Then she’d hate him. She’d really want him dead. Our woman would have no qualms about digging the knife into his chest like she did last night when she thought it was Mason. No, Scarlett would wield the fucking axe to cut him down. And we’d all watch him burn with no remorse or guilt for tearing the cunt down.