Chaos by Sarah Bailey

Nine

West

Francis had set about making breakfast whilst I lounged against the counter in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. I hadn’t spiked it but judging by the way he kept looking at me, he suspected I was drinking. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d started on the whisky well before ten, but I didn’t need to bury my feelings in booze or drugs right now. Not after last night. Not when I’d smelt blood and fear. And watched the woman I wanted for life stab a man to death with reckless fury and rage.

Scarlett had been a queen. A ruler in her own right. There was nothing sweeter than watching her give into her baser nature. To destroy a man she thought had wronged her. The rest of them might not have realised what she’d screamed at the guy, but I did. She’d called Mason a liar and told him he hadn’t saved her. It made me suspicious of what had gone on in the Carver household for the past ten years. I wasn’t going to ask her outright. She wouldn’t be inclined to reveal her secrets to me, but it didn’t make me any less curious. Somehow, I’d get to the bottom of it… eventually.

“Are you planning on pissing Scarlett off when she comes down?”

I angled my head towards Francis, giving him a grin.

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

He rolled his eyes, flipping the kettle on and moving back over to the stove.

“Well, I would prefer it if you cut her some slack given what we did to her last night.”

“You’d prefer it, would you? Now, now, Frankie, that just makes me want to do quite the opposite.”

That earned me a scowl.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking combative? Not everything needs to result in violence.”

I shrugged. It was my default. And he was wrong. Violence was the best damn part of my day. It fed my warring soul and made me whole.

“Also, quit calling me that.”

“What crawled up your arse?”

He turned on me, a haunted look crossing his face.

“She said it last night.”

“Said what?”

He looked down at his hands and his voice turned soft.

“She called me Frankie and she didn’t even realise it. She snapped at me just like she used to. For a few seconds, I saw the real Scarlett. It was amazing and soul-destroying at the same time.”

Francis didn’t usually have any sort of heart-to-heart shit with me, but I understood what he was talking about. The fact she’d called him Frankie was significant to him. Scarlett was the only one he’d ever allowed it from. And perhaps she was beginning to remember us.

“Did you say anything to her about it?”

“No. She was already freaked out over her nightmare, didn’t want to make it worse.”

Wouldn’t have been the way I’d have handled it, but maybe it was for the best he didn’t comment on it. I tended to take a sledgehammer to shit, but Francis had always been more subtle in his approach to anything in life. He was unassuming and it made him dangerous as fuck. Even I could admit that.

From across the room, I spied her walking down the stairs. She had a t-shirt and shorts on. Her long, wavy hair flowed down her back and her eyes fixed themselves on me. Her expression turned sour, her mouth thinning. I grinned. She’d already baited me and she hadn’t said a damn word.

Scarlett walked across the room, her eyes darting away from me and going to Francis instead. He turned his head at her footsteps and gave her a smile. I clenched my fist when she went straight up to him and tucked herself under his arm, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Morning,” she murmured.

“Morning, you okay?”

She nodded and pressed her face into his chest whilst eyeing me. It almost felt like a fucking taunt. Her way of showing me I wasn’t going to get her attention. I nearly shook my head. If Scarlett wanted to play that game, so be it. She would soon regret it.

“Hungry?”

“Mmm.” She nuzzled his chest. “Yes.”

Francis looked at her with a raised eyebrow but didn’t ask her why she was being overly affectionate towards him.

“I’ll make you something.”

He carefully extracted himself from her grasp to walk over to the fridge. She leant against the counter and stared at her feet.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” I asked.

Her head whipped up and she narrowed her eyes.

“No. I don’t give a shit about your feelings.”

“Mmm, I don’t believe you.”

And there she was, my feisty woman who wasn’t going to take my shit. The way she scowled and stepped towards me had me licking my bottom lip.

“What is your problem with me?”

“You’re the one out here getting all overly friendly with Frankie, whilst staring at me as if I’m going to do something about it. I merely stated the obvious.”

She spluttered, clearly unprepared for my bluntness. Scarlett should know by now I wasn’t one for beating around the bush.

I caught Francis giving me a look. As if I was ever not going to wind Scarlett up. It was too much fun to watch her explode.

“If I wanted to make you jealous, I’d go drape myself over some random guy who isn’t on your list of approved males who can touch me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it fucking is.”

I shrugged.

“Go ahead… I guarantee you wouldn’t like the consequences, but whatever, it’s your choice.”

I almost reached out and touched her when she closed the distance between us and stared up at me, the fire in those hazel-green eyes burning a hole in my head.

“You’re acting like you don’t give a shit, but I know you do.”

“You’ve already had a warning, Scar, or did you forget how I made you come in front of all those people, hmm?”

The way her cheeks went red had me running my finger down her arm. Such a soft, little delicate thing she was. Inside lay my warrior. The woman who would go to war with me. Who’d come at me with everything she had.

“Shut. Up.”

“You liked it and here you are angling for more of my magic fingers. All you have to do is ask… unless you want something else, hmm? Perhaps your pussy is craving cock, is that it?”

“I’d rather walk over broken glass than ask you for anything.”

I shook my head, dropping my hand back down to my side.

“Liar.”

She took another step towards me, her body almost pressing against mine.

“I just think you’re fucking sour because I told you not to touch me last night and you wanted me.”

I looked her over.

“If I wanted you, I could have you, Scar. You’re mine.”

There was a second’s pause before her hand whipped up and wrapped around my neck. Her tiny fingers squeezed and the glare on her face had me wondering what the hell she thought she was doing.

“You want to own me, huh? You want me to be yours?” she ground out. “Well, how about I fucking well own you too? This right here, it’s mine.”

Dear fuck, what have I created? A fucking monster… and I love it.

I wasn’t going to tell her I was proud of her for standing up to me. Nor how I liked this aggressive and territorial Scarlett. Her assertiveness turned me on. Made me want to pin her down on the kitchen island and fuck her senseless. But I wasn’t going to reward her for any of this shit.

It started slowly, bubbling up inside me, until my laughter echoed through the room. She only glared at me harder whilst I stood there amused as fuck by her little display, not even trying to bat her hand away.

“It’s not funny! This is the exact shit you pulled on me.”

I set my hands on the counter behind me and continued chuckling.

“I beg to differ.”

The lift doors opened revealing Drake and Prescott who walked out and faltered when they came across the scene in front of them.

“Do I want to know what’s happening here?” Drake asked, sticking his hands in his pockets as he wandered over to the sofa.

“Scar’s getting a little… possessive, aren’t you?”

The only response from her I got was another glare and a squeak of frustration. Reaching up, I stroked my fingers down her neck, making her let out a breath.

“It’s okay, Scar, I won’t punish you for your little outburst,” I murmured. “It’s cute really, you worrying I might stray.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Excuse me?” she hissed a moment later.

My hand went to her cheek, brushing her jaw with gentle care I never usually used.

“My interests are with you and you alone, so you don’t need to be afraid.”

“If you think I care—”

I pressed my thumb over her mouth, stopping her words.

“I know you care.” I leant closer. “None of us are going anywhere, Scar. We don’t want anyone else.”

She blinked. Then she pulled herself out of my grasp and cradled her hand to her chest, staring up at me with confusion.

“Why… why are you being nice?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer her, merely winked. I don’t think she knew what to do. Probably expected me to fly off the handle and threaten her, but this was far more fun, watching her attempt to work out what the hell my game was and failing.

Scarlett backed away from me and went over to Francis instead. He rolled his eyes at me whilst taking her over to the dining table, sitting her down at it and placing a plate in front of her. Scarlett dug into her food, but she continued to watch me, her brow furrowed as if everything I’d done had thrown her for a loop.

It wasn’t until she’d finished eating when she looked up and found Prescott staring at her. He’d remained by the lift, watching her with this sad puppy dog expression on his face. Hurt flashed in her eyes. The two of them kept staring at each other as Francis took her plate away and brought it over to the kitchen, placing it in the dishwasher. When he went back over to her, she turned to him with a determined look on her face.

“You know what we were talking about last night?”

Francis frowned.

“We talked about a lot of things.”

She reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“The tying up thing.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as if it was the last thing he thought she’d bring up in front of the rest of us.

“What about it?”

She stood up and placed her hand on his chest, smiling at him with a wicked look in her eyes.

“Do you want to show me more… like right now?”

“Are you asking what I think you are?”

Scarlett leant into him.

“I want you to tie me up and do everything you were imagining last night.”

Somehow I didn’t think Francis had ever had a girl act so brazen towards him as he shifted on his feet and looked around the room. Scarlett was still staring up at him when he levelled his gaze back on her.

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

Then she took his hand and tugged him towards the stairs, not even throwing a look anyone else’s way. She’d made her statement. It was a big fuck you to me, Drake and Prescott. I couldn’t exactly fault her for it either.

It wasn’t until they’d disappeared when Prescott moved away from the lift and walked over to Drake, taking a seat next to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

“Jealous much?” I asked.

“Fuck off, West. She can do what she wants with him.”

“I think she did that on purpose,” Drake said.

Prescott gave him daggers, leading me to believe the two of them had exchanged words beyond speaking to Mason.

“Oh yeah?” I waved a hand at Drake. “You going to tell us why?”

I already knew but wanted to know if he’d noticed too.

“Well, she’s pissed at you two…”

Prescott raised his eyebrow.

“And me. She wants us to see what we’re missing out on.”

“I already know what I’m missing,” Prescott muttered.

Having already pressed his buttons earlier, I decided to leave him be. Prescott clearly wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of us.

“I say let Frankie enjoy himself whilst he can, fuck knows he needs it after all the shit with Chelsea.”

Drake turned to Prescott, ignoring me entirely.

“I’ll think about what you said, okay?”

Prescott didn’t respond, which made Drake sigh and rub his face. I had no idea what those two had argued about, but I could guess. And it was the woman we’d sacrificed everything for.

I wondered how long it would take before our household got completely turned upside down now Scarlett had become a permanent member of it. No matter what she and the others thought, I wasn’t about to let her leave again. She belonged here with us no matter if she couldn’t remember who we were. And I would damn well make her remember if I had to.

A life without Scarlett was no life worth living at all.

I should know.