Burn for Me (Chaotic Love)

Prologue

10-12-2022

I found her so that means she's mine.

-Sam

I'm a war dog.

When most people hear that statement, they think of a soldier who has fought countless battles. They envision the bloodshed I’ve witnessed and the lives lost by my side. They might even contemplate the long-term effects it has had on my mentality. However, those people don’t truly understand the extent of what that four-word statement can signify.

They don’t know what it’s like to be a product of Chaos.

Rain begins to pour from the clouds above, soaking my clothes–making them cling to my skin, just like the sweat that used to seep through when I found myself caught in the crossfire, surrounded by bullets and fallen bodies.

From a young age, I always knew I wanted to be bigger and stronger. Thankfully, after I turned eighteen, my uncle sold me to the Chaos Army, allowing me to pursue that goal. I transformed into a beast, lacking morals and offering no apologies for my actions—killing became an insatiable need embedded in my very being. I bear the scars to prove it, both mentally and physically.

However, this transformation ultimately led to my downfall. I was discharged after my superior, Carlisle, ended the Chaos War. The loss of my purpose and new identity fueled my desire for revenge. There's no need to talk about that because I've turned over a new leaf, or at least I'm trying to.

Running my fingers through my already disheveled hair, I try to focus on surveying the area around our base, but my phone buzzes, adding yet another distraction.

“Are you doing rounds?” My new superior officer, Caspian, otherwise known by his callsign, Tide, asks as I answer. He took over after his father, Carlisle, passed away and transformed Chaos into Depth. He turned destruction into something that is supposed to be used for good, just like he’s trying to do to me.

“Trying to.” Pausing, I look to the clouds and then to the black beach with a huff as the light from one of our base towers shifts to the sea, “It'd be easier if those fuckin’ idiots knew which way to point a light.”

“I'll get with them. You know their training isn't like ours was. Speaking of, I just got word from the prison. They have a runner.”

“A runner?” I grin. This one might be feisty, so I can finally see some action. It gets boring, constantly being held back from my trained instincts.

“Find them and bring them in…” Caspian pauses, and I can already envision his fingers tapping to his chest, “ Alive . Bay has been having a field day with our recruits, so we're running low, and our next shipment won’t arrive for a month.”

We’re not your typical heroes; we’re supposed to operate together in the shadows within secret factions to protect the world. Only those higher up—trusted officials and world leaders—know we exist to prevent mass panic. Smaller task forces exist, but Bay and Depth have the most influence. Ironically, we're at war with each other. The sound of his cigar drawer opening is audible on the line. He’s never smoked the damn things until recently, Carlisle was the one with a knack for the expensive death sticks, but with the stress of everything, I hardly see him without one.

“Yes, Sir.” I huff into my phone, distracted by the damp sand on my boots as I cross the beach. Images of blood and dirt sticking to the leather flash through my memory momentarily before Caspian's lighter flicks through.

“Don’t forget to remind them of their options: sanctuary here or return to their cell.” He ends the call, and I pocket my phone while turning away from the beach.

Since Depth soldiers keep falling to Bay, Caspian has taken in more expendable people—criminals and nobodies. He doesn't have to remind me of the options since I received the same ones not too long ago. Going from a war dog to being pulled from a rusted cell to being handed a rank and position without hesitation is strange. I guess since Carlisle trusted me, Cas’ followed suit. Don’t get me wrong, I'm grateful for it, but I question my purpose.

Why fight if it's not just to see blood or hear screams? My footsteps thump against the boardwalk as I approach the blinking blue and red lights in the darkness, reflecting off the dry seagrass surrounding the old, battered planks.

“Evening. What’re you boys doin’ out here?!” I call out over the heavy wind, shoving my hands into my pockets to hide my clenched fist.

“Hey, Sam! You're lookin’ good. How’s life outside bars?” Bill, the shorter, older officer, grins and slaps my shoulder as I stop in front of him. He was one of the few guards who trusted me back then.

Before I can respond, the other officer interrupts. “We’ve got a runner.”

He straightens in an attempt to shine his flashlight around me, so I shift. The light catches my chest, reflecting the gleam towards his slicked-back brown hair and narrowing green eyes. Dale . He’s new, but I recognize his profile from the base files.

I suck the back of my teeth, “On Depth territory? Interesting . I assume they're not your responsibility anymore, right?”

“Sure thing, Reaper .” My jaw ticks at the mockery of my callsign in Dale's voice as he backpedals up the pathway.

Bill calls over his shoulder, “There’s no intel on the body. They slipped past a rookie during intake and headed this way.”

“Be a good dog and take care of them, yeah?” Dale taunts before turning away.

I know I should process Bill's information, but Dale's words leave me battling my demons.

It'd be so easy to walk up behind him right now and wrap hands around his neck until it–

Taking a deep breath, I brush my hair back and head toward the beach again. The scenery should calm me, but every crunch in the sand feels like bones breaking, and the thunder rumbling in the sky sounds too similar to gunshots.

Don’t get triggered.

It's a struggle between wanting to forget and needing to remember. Most war dogs from Chaos sought therapy after discharge due to being haunted by their past. Not me. I want to relive the pain I inflicted– endured . Carlisle’s ruthless tactics stripped away my emotions, and now I’m forced to rewire everything to avoid messing up the fresh start his son has given me.

Looking around the vast area, a small silhouette sways at the water's edge, staring into the storm. I squint through the heavy rain, wiping mist from my face with my sleeve to confirm it's a person and not a hallucination. I often experience those, but I can usually tell reality from some muddled flashback.

“Hey!” I call out loud enough to startle the figure into a sprint. I’m following close behind before I even realize it. Fuck , I love a good chase, and indulging my urges just a bit feels right in my new role.

A wicked grin spreads across my face as I tackle them into the wet ground, pinning their hips beneath my knees. Thick dark lashes flutter against the rain, and I tilt my head to provide some cover, taking in her contrast to my rugged appearance.

Her hair is a bright blonde, while mine is a dirty shade, like my life. Her eyes shine in a soft golden hue, whereas mine are as dark as my soul. I'm not given enough time to memorize the shape of her lips before her hands fly to my chest as she tries to push me away while kicking and huffing. Typically, I'd get triggered, but as the back of my knuckles trace the outline of her perfectly sculpted cheekbones, I find myself utterly unbothered by her attempts.

“What are you doing out in this mess?” She flinches at my tone, drawing my attention to the sand clinging to her neck, so I drop my hand to wipe it away.

“I’m lost.” God, that fucking voice —airy and lightly rasping from uneven breaths.

“You didn’t think it through when you ran from the bobbies, did you?” My breathing is calm, but my heart hammers against my ribs like fists that used to fight me off. Wait… delicate knuckles are pounding against me. I chuckle. No one who knows me would be brave enough to make a move like that.

“Woah, now, easy.” I steady her by wrapping my hand around her neck and brushing my thumb over her rapid pulse. “I can offer you a place to stay—train, eat, sleep, fight. It's better than a cell.”

I expect a struggle, but she remains still, holding my gaze with a flush creeping up her cheeks.

“Are you offering to take me home?” I scoff at the flirtation in her voice. This isn't how a victim or a runaway typically reacts.

“What's your name?” I ask, pulling the conversation back to where it needs to be.

“If you want answers, then you need to give me something in return,” she murmurs, glancing toward the waves before looking back at the boardwalk.

“I’m taking you to Depth.”

She scoffs, mimicking my earlier sound, and shifts beneath me. I draw in a sharp breath, biting my cheek at the friction she creates.

“Yes, I’m taking you to the place I call home. Now it’s your turn: Name?” I tighten my grip around her throat, and the heat in her gaze returns.

“If you’re giving me a place to stay, I deserve a name too.”

My tongue darts out to wet my lips. I need to know her, but she’s elusive. Delicate and young, yet sinfully wrapped in flesh. Like a little devil.

“Alright then…” I pause, considering. The wind picks up, swirling her scent with sea salt, and I nearly salivate from the smell—s ubtle hints of jasmine.

I grin, focusing on the smooth skin gliding under my calloused thumb, “ Jasmine . Once you join Depth, you’re bound to fight real wars. Lives are at stake.”

“Are you going to crush me while you ramble or take me to my new penitentiary?”

“It's not a penitentiary. There are worse places out there.” I grumble while griping her soaked shirt to pull her up with me, but she stumbles in the sand.

“Fuckin hell.” I huff, knowing we won't get far with her horrid footing against the storm. She screams and starts thrashing again as I scoop her into my arms.

“Just stay bloody still. I’ll protect you.” The words taste bitter; I’m not used to protecting anyone, but I guess it’s part of the job—at least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself. I won't admit the fact that, for once , I don't want to take a life. I want to keep it.

“Go to hell.” She murmurs. I scoff while fumbling with my phone to call Caspian.

“Are you offering to take me home?” I quip, tucking the device between my shoulder and ear. She makes a strange sound, and I quickly scan her face to ensure it isn’t from pain. Her nose crinkles slightly, and her lip is tucked between her teeth as if she’s trying not to smile. Was she laughing? I can’t remember the last time I made someone react that way. Caspian has a sarcastic chuckle now and then, but this was genuine—something from her— and I caused it.

“Status report?” Caspian answers.

I clear my throat as her tongue darts out to catch a drop of rain on her lip. “Bringing her in now.”

“Good work, Sam,” he begins, but his words feel muted as her gaze catches mine. It pierces through as if she’s searching for a way to save me from my deepest, darkest demons. One day, she’ll realize there’s no salvation for a man like me—only damnation.

“I’ll have someone settle her in after our chat…” Caspian continues.

I shake my head, finally focusing on the light tower guiding me to the base entrance.

“No need. I can handle this one.”

I found her, so that means she's mine.