Chaos (Twisted Kings MC #5)

Prologue

Chaos

Fourteen Years Earlier

The only sliver of shade on this miserable summer day is the slip of shadow in the alley between the feed store and the pharmacy. I lean against the brick wall, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it while I wait for my brother to finish football practice across town.

I’m sick of being his babysitter when we’re barely a year apart in age, but at least waiting for him gets me out of the house and away from my asshole stepfather.

Sometimes I sit and think about what life could have been like if Mom hadn’t moved on the second Dad bailed when I was born.

Then again, if she hadn’t married Tate within those first few months, Kincaid wouldn’t be here.

He might be a chore, but he’s my brother.

I look after him, and he tries to convince me to stay out of trouble. He’s the good son in our family, always toeing the line.

The honor roll student.

The athlete.

The golden child.

Kincaid is the perfect example of everything I’m doing wrong with my life, and his father makes sure to point that out every chance he gets. Tate’s never taken it easy on me. And since Mom got sick a year ago, that’s only gotten worse.

She’s only gotten worse.

Some days, it feels like she’s already gone.

Not all death is instant. Cancer has been claiming her bit by bit for a while now. At least it’s yet to steal her smile.

I close my eyes and rest my head against the brick wall behind me.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Grandpa says it’s all going to be okay, but it stopped being okay a week ago when they sent Mom home, and she stopped trying to fight the cancer slowly crawling around inside her. I don’t know what’s worse, watching her suffer through the fight or knowing it’ll soon be over.

I take a drag of my cigarette. The ember at the end glows. Mom’s voice rings in my head as my thoughts float with the hit of nicotine. She’d kill me if she found out I’m smoking again, but what does she expect?

I’m tired of caring.

I’m tired of waiting.

I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong.

My eyes close as I take another drag, and I let my mind drift to my surroundings. Tires crackle against pavement. Voices ring through the streets. The hustle around town is a song in my head. White noise that calms me. Until someone rushes around the corner and slams into my side.

“What the hell?” My eyes fly open as I shift on my feet.

A tiny girl with jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes quickly steps back. “I’m sorry.”

Emotions war in her gaze. Her cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink as she fights to catch her breath.

She’s not from here—I’d know. Lanceleaf Valley is a small town where everyone knows everyone, and I’d sure as heck remember seeing this girl before.

Squatting down, I pick up the cigarette that fell when we collided and dust it off. “In a hurry?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem.” I take a drag, watching her.

She frowns. “Aren’t you too young to be smoking?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Sixteen? Seventeen?” she guesses.

“You were right the first time.” I chuckle.

If she thinks sixteen is too young to be smoking, I wonder what she’d think of the fact that I started at twelve. Or that I had my first drink at thirteen. There isn’t a first I haven’t had at this point.

It’s one more way I’m living up to my stepdad’s expectation that I’m a complete disappointment.

“Smoking will kill you.” She narrows her eyes.

Judgmental but beautiful.

“Lots of shit can kill you. Like hiding in back alleyways with strangers.” I wave an arm to the empty alley we’re standing in.

She rolls her eyes, unthreatened. “You’re a year older than me, not some serial killer. Besides, I’m not hiding.”

“Is that right?” I let smoke curl out from between my lips. “Then why are you looking over your shoulder every other minute like someone is going to jump out of the shadows and grab you?”

The dark-haired girl glances over her shoulder again. Voices peak around the corner, and her back stiffens.

So she is running from someone.

“No reason.” She bites her bottom lip, clearly lying.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll put out this cigarette if you tell me who you’re hiding from?” I hold the cigarette up between us, and her eyes watch my fingers, considering my offer.

I’ve only got one left in the pack, and it will be a pain to get more when Mom has Waylon, who runs the general store, on notice not to sell me any.

But I’m too damn curious not to offer. I want to know why this fifteen-year-old girl, who looks like there’s not one bad bone in her body, is hiding like her life depends on it.

“No judgment?” She bites her lower lip.

“Nope.” I take a deep inhale and let my answer curl out with the smoke, reminding her I’ve got no room to judge.

“Cops.”

I choke out my next exhale, pounding my chest when the smoke catches in my lungs. “The cops?”

She nods, and I burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny.” She frowns.

“Okay,” I agree for her sake. “How in the hell did you get in trouble with the cops?”

“It was an accident.”

My eyebrow quirks, and she lifts up the video game she’s holding. The security tag is still on it.

I scan her over.

She’s nicely dressed. Her hair blows in the breeze, looking soft as hell. The quality of her cowboy boots alone tells me her family isn’t struggling. Yet she’s holding a stolen video game.

“You were shoplifting?”

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even actually do it.” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “I stepped out of the store at the same time as this other kid, and when the alarm went off, he shoved this at me.”

“So you took it and ran? Why didn’t you just tell them what happened?”

She avoids my gaze. “You don’t know my father.”

Her toe twists on the ground, and she doesn’t elaborate.

She’s right, I don’t know her father. I don’t know her either. But something about the stress in her shoulders tells me her dad must not be much better than Tate if she’d rather help some random kid steal a video game than get questioned for it.

She tugs her lower lip between her teeth. “It was an accident, I swear. If Dad—”

“Give me the game.” I hold out my hand.

Her eyes widen as she shakes her head. “You can’t take it. They’ll think you did it, and you’ll get in trouble.”

“What’s a little bit of trouble?” I shrug. “Besides, I don’t mind.”

“Why?”

Because it’s what they expect of me.

Because if Mom’s done fighting the inevitable, then maybe I am too.

Because there’s this knot inside me, and nothing loosens it.

I don’t say any of those things. I lean in close—too close—because I can’t help it. She looks like a storm, but she smells like sunshine. Like a clear day and a fresh breeze.

I lower my mouth to her ear, snatching the game from her hand. “Because now you owe me, princess.”

Her cheeks pinken as I pull back. She’s a sight I could stare at all day.

Instead, I slip around the building, before the cops turn the corner, into the awaiting arms of law enforcement.

My stepdad is going to beat my ass until I can’t see straight for getting in trouble with the cops for a second time this month, but I can’t find it in me to care.

Not when I watch the dark-haired girl slip from between the buildings, running away with a smile on her face.

I never even got her name, but at least she’s safe.