Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) Read online

  Chaos by Xavier Neal

  Havoc Series Book Two

  ©Xavier Neal 2014

  All rights reserved

  Published by Entertwine Publishing

  Cover design by Entertwine Publishing

  Photo by Mark Sands

  Cover model Lee Gibber

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  All character, places, and descriptions come from the imagination of the author. All are fictional and any resemblance to real life persons or places is purely coincidental

  13 years ago...

  “You're never too old for a bed time story, Slugger.” My mom's hand pushes my brown hair that's getting too long out of my eyes.

  True. But I know other kid's my age are probably over the whole have your parents tuck you in and read to you thing. After all, I'm eight! Even if that's true and I'm too old, I can't help admit that I like when she crawls into my bed beside me to read. It's our own little corner of heaven.

  I look around at the boxes stacked around my very empty room. No plaques. No trophies. No posters. No pictures. Nothing but memories tucked neatly into ugly brown U-Haul boxes pushed against the wall, waiting to follow us to the new house, in a new city, in a new life. Far, far, away from here. I hate it.

  “Here it is!” my mother hums victorious, lifting up a hard back copy of one of my favorite fairy tales from the box closest to my nightstand.

  She crawls into my bed beside me, her gray skinny jean covered legs brushing against mine. Settling in, she wraps her arm around the back of me, resting on my pillow, her tattoos looking like pieces of art work under my light.

  “Once upon a time...” the words roll out of her mouth the way they always do. Flowing. Perfect. How many kids can say their mother's perfect? “There was a young prince who lived in a beautiful castle. Like him, it was glorious and strong. Captivating and magical.”

  Her eyes look down at me, their blue shimmery color reminding me of the pages painted in the book in front of us. I smile at the fact they are the same shade.

  “And one day this young prince met a beautiful princess who glowed with a beautiful golden light and poise that could only be taught by the fairest in all the land.” The page shows the prince meeting a girl with long yellow hair and a faint matching light around her. “The two of them fell deeply in love and were destined to be married by the great king himself. One night, just days before the two were to be wed, the most horrible thing happened! An evil sorcerer slipped into her bedroom and kidnapped her!” My mom's voice raises in excitement like I didn't known it was coming.

  Of course I knew it was coming. She's only read this book a million times. Well that and whenever a prince and princess are happy, something has to come to stop it, so the prince has a reason to save the day. Cinderella- she's locked in a room. Sleeping Beauty- she's got that creepy devil-looking lady protecting her. Snow White eats the apple poisoned by the witch. I'm not saying I exclusively watch fairy tales or anything...but a good movie is a good movie. I like the good guy winning in the movies. That's all.

  “The evil sorcerer took her back to his castle where he placed a magical spell on himself. He turned into a giant snake the covered the entire stone home to keep the princess trapped inside.” What a jerk! What kind of person keeps someone against their will! “When the prince realized his beloved was missing he searched night and day. Across oceans and mountains. Through sand storm and rain storms alike. He would find his princess!” I like the prince. He's not a quitter. “Finally the prince arrived where the princess was being held, drew his sword, and told her...he would rescue her with his last dying breath! The prince raced towards the unpleasant monster, ready to tear the beast limb from limb. He stabbed the creature, sliced it, hoping to reach the heart yet every wound he made hoping to be fatal, only caused the monster to grow another tail. Each tail with its own fatal fate.”

  My eyes bulge at the spiked tail. The tail wrapped with barbed wire. The one with electricity sparks flying from it.

  “What should he do, Slugger?”

  “Cut the head off!” I cheer on the book, anxious for her turn the page.

  She smirks, her wedding ring flashing me in the face as she turns the page. “It was then that the brave prince decided the only way to save his princess was to get to the root of the evil. The head! The head must be cut off! And as swiftly as his body would carry him, the bold prince rushed the snake, ducking and dodging the viscous tails presenting him with one chance. One opportunity to save what he had come to love most in the world. With one clean sweep, the prince cut the snake at the throat, beheading the awful creature.”

  That's right! Boom! He wins!

  “Feeling triumphant, the prince climbed off the beast right as one of the creature's massive tails landed on him with a giant thud! Trapping him. Imprisoning him. Marching him to his death.”

  I shake my head slowly. Poor guy just wanted to save that girl. Is it just me or do princes always get the bad end of these deals?

  “The princess ran down the stairs and threw herself at the man who had saved her from an eternity of sadness. She flung herself at him, cradled his face, and cried her tears falling onto his face of a golden rain. It was then through a miracle from the stars that the tail slid off of her dearest freeing him. She placed her lips upon his giving him the breath she had in her body in hopes of saving him.”

  It's the least she could do.

  “With a heavy gasp, the prince was awakened staring into the eyes of his princess once more. It was then that he knew all the longing, searching, and fighting had been worth every moment. Together they would live a long and happy life together. The End.”

  This book is by far my favorite. I like the prince. I like the snake. The pictures are pretty cool. And I even like that the princess saves the prince for saving her. But it never fails to raise questions.

  “Mom,” I sigh looking up at her as she fiddles with my dad's dog tags around her neck.

  “Hm?”

  “Would you say dad is your prince?”

  She nods with a wide smile, “Of course.”

  After a pause I ask, “You think I'll ever find a princess some day?”

  Giggling she kisses the side of my forehead, “Oh Slugger, of course! Of course you will. And you will live happily ever after. Just like me and your dad.”

  I hope not just like her and my dad. He's never home. I would want to be home with my princess or at least take her with me. I see the way my mom looks lonely without him sometimes. No one should ever have to go through that.

  “Will I have to fight a snake to save her?”

  She lifts her body off my bed, still smiling; she pulls up my blanket so it covers my lower chest. With a gentle flick of the wrist, she pushes my hair out of my eyes again. I need a haircut. “Every prince fights for his princess, Slugger.”

  I nod and she kisses my forehead, “Night, mom. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Night...”

  My eyes follow her to my bedroom door that she closes behind her. When she's gone, I look up at the ceiling knowing this is the last night this will be my ceiling. Some day when I have a princess and I have to fight to save her, I hope it's from something cool like a dragon! Or Godzilla! I know how to defeat those! Hey, even if it's a wicked snake at least I know how to defeat it too. Cut the head off.

  28 Days 'til Deployment

  Duri
ng any mission it is best to stay calm. Focused. Level headed. Remember the objective. Know the outcome. Protecting Haven has always been that mission. And right now, as I see her balled up fist pounding like my own heart in my chest I realize, some missions are never over.

  “Banks.”

  The sound of his name stops him from yanking at his driver side door. My fingers grip tighter around my K-BAR that's waiting to do damage in my pocket. “You talkin' to me, boy?”

  Slowly, I nod. I need away from that car. Away from her. And then I will drop him like the worthless piece of scum he is.

  Dumbly, he walks back around the path he came with a gleam in his eye I recognize. I know that look. I know it because I have it. The old bastard has fight in him. He's willing to kill for her. Well, so am I.

  “You stole what's mine, boy...” the heavy Texan accent feels like a phony movie. But this isn't a movie. And there's nothing fake about what's about to happen next.

  “And you think you got a right to speak to me?”

  “She's. Not. Yours.”

  “Darlin's always been mine” another two steps and he's right where I want him, dead in front of me, perfect position to strike. One strike, one kill. “Til I die, boy.”

  The corner of my mouth cocks upward as I pull the knife from my pocket and launch for his body. In a move I've practiced in training missions before, I pull a simple weight transfer move, grip his hairy forearm, twist it with a hard crack receiving a sharp yelp from him as he thrusts his back against my front. While he tries to weasel his way around in my grip, I manage to capture his other arm, holding both hostages with one of my hands. With complete flawless operation, I focus on the worthless thing in my grips that's inhaling his final breaths.

  “You know junior, I always find my way back to what's mine. Jail can't stop that.”

  My eyes glance up for a moment to see Haven looking back at me through the glass. Her mouth slightly open, hair all over the place, desperation in her eyes so strong. If I weren't busy holding this sack of shit, it would force me to my knees. She needs this. She needs me to slit this bastard's throat. She needs me to free her from the fear that he could come back any other day of the week. She needs me. And whatever Haven needs...I'll always give her.

  My knife twirls around in my hands before cutting a very precise slash across his neck making for a clean execution. He flops to the grass; a very thin dribble of blood landing where he did. Pushing through the air that seems too thick to move through, I drop my knife; walk around the body, and straight for the dented car door.

  Yanking the thing open, I offer my hand to Haven hoping she sees a savior instead of a killer. I need her to see me as her protector. I need that in this moment. She flings herself into me, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, eyes leaking tears onto my t-shirt, the wetness soaking straight through to my skin. One of my hands strokes her head as I try to hush the sorrow leaking out of her.

  “Is..is...is he--” the words hiccup themselves into disappearance.

  “Alpha...” I whisper and hold her tighter, not worried about the consequences of the situation. My chin rests on top of her head as I glance over to a sight I wasn't aware was around. I wasn't aware that I had an audience. That there would be any additional witnesses to my crime. And that's exactly what it is. A crime.

  Sir's eyes look at me and then at the lifeless body behind me. I wait for the horror of what I've done or the horror that what he always feared would come true to crawl on his face. Instead, I see him shove his hands in his jean pockets, press his lips tightly together, and lower his head clearly making a decision, a firm one at that, what to do with his son. I don't care. I don't care if this ruins my career. I don't care if this is years in jail. As long as I know Haven is safe, that's all that matters.

  He clears his throat and approaches us cautiously from the sidewalk. In a very low tone he says, “Clint, get her to Mindy's now.” My mouth flinches open and he follows with, “That's an order.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Meet me back in the house immediately. Understood?”

  “Yes Sir.” I lift Haven's face so our eyes meet, hers still sparkling from the liquid fear that congregated in them. Angels weren't meant to cry like this. Brushing away the fallen tears, I gently lean my forehead against hers. “Angel...I have to get you to Mindy's.”

  Still choking on fright she tries to say, “But-but--”

  “I promise, everything will be alright.”

  She nods slowly, and I let a kiss land where my head was just resting. With my arms still wrapped around her, encompassing her like an impenetrable force-field, I guide her across the road to Mindy's house.

  After a gentle knock, one I'm surprised she even heard, Mindy appears in the doorway, “I swear you—” Her voice cuts off at the sight of Haven's disposition. With a rough swallow, she looks at me. Asking me if this is my fault. Looking for a reason for the innocent girl who was so full of life yesterday is once again in a fragile state. I shake my head once. Mindy gathers Haven in her arms and whispers, “Oh honey...”

  And with that, Haven breaks down all over again. Tears. Floods of tears.

  I don't want to leave her. I don't want to leave her like this. I don't want to walk away knowing she still needs me. But Sir gave an order. One that I know better than to make an attempt to disobey. My eyes meet Mindy's face that has the beginning workings of the day clearly on it but not complete. That shit women put on their eyelashes is there. She offers Haven one stroke on the back before reaching her hand for my cheek. For the first time I can remember, she doesn't smell of designer perfume and lavish lifestyles. She smells of oranges. Simplicity. I close my eyes tightly for a moment demanding my brain to register all that will be missed behind the bars I'll shortly be calling my new home.

  Her hand slides down my cheek, and I open my eyes seeing a very clear command. Go. Leave. Now. Without another word, I turn on my heels and head back across the street, the sound of my old life, the few hopes I had gathered, the mixed up mess of a person I was becoming shutting with her front door.

  As I cross the lawn, I immediately notice his body missing. No. No. Death had to claim him. It had no choice! I never miss! I hit ever artery necessary to make that a clean kill!

  Rushing into the house, I run right into Sir who has changed out of his uniform and has a bag slung over his shoulder.

  Pointing towards the front lawn I shriek, “Sir--”

  “Go upstairs. Pack a bag.”

  “Sir--”

  “We're going camping.”

  Frustrated and desperate I try again. “But Sir--”

  “That's an order, Marine.”

  With a sharp growl, I hustle up the stairs and toss open my closet door. Camping? Thankfully, my brain is still in objective mode and only prepared to process direct orders such as the one given. I grab my duffel bag from the back, toss inside a couple pairs of sweats and jeans, a few long sleeve shirts along with t-shirts, grab a jacket, and some socks. As quickly as I came up the stairs, I shuffle back down them and out the front door.

  Walking towards Sir's black truck that's parked beside my car, I notice him and Felix hauling some bulky items our way. I can't make them out. Even the shapes are unfamiliar to me. Frustration sets in. Paranoia. What am I not being told? Why the fuck are we going camping? Why the fuck do I have to leave Haven?

  “Get in the trunk, Clint,” Sir says to me without making eye contact. Felix says nothing to me either as he tosses the items into the bed of truck.

  My body plops itself in the gray leather front seat, my head hitting the back of it hard. I shut my eyes. Tight. When I woke up this morning everything seemed so right. Perfect. In order. And yet it shifted quickly into chaos. A disaster. My life on a chopping block. And I'd do it again. I'd do anything to protect Haven. I told her that. I swore to that. And a Marine is only as good as his word. Though, now that I think about it, how much longer will I be a Marine? Being a trained killer is great when Uncle Sam is tossing
out the capital punishment orders but not when you go rogue.

  Mindy was right. This isn't the warm chocolate filled love moment. This is the other. This is the one she warned me about. The one that could destroy lives or futures. The one that would drown the world for another moment to breathe. The one that would slaughter anything that tried to come between it and surviving. Pure havoc.

  Sir gets in, buckles up, and backs out of the drive way not saying a word. I'm expecting to see rage. Fury. Disbelief. Any emotion to let me gauge his level of displeasure with me. Not that it matters. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

  The car ride is silent as we exit the city heading towards the country. Silence. It's not sweet. It's not bitter. It's like me right now. It's just there. Normally after a successful mission there's a buzz. There's an energy. An excitement. Yet, I'm numb. Maybe it's the fact I don't know where his body went. I can't imagine he limped away like that to safety. And what about his car? Evidence he was at my house. I fucking hate it's still there. Taunting Haven. Maybe I'm numb because I wish Haven was in my arms. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because the cost of her freedom is mine.

  The sound of the wheels hitting the asphalt has a certain comforting lull to it. Between that and the engine roar, I can almost forget that I'm in the car with Sir who is most likely deciding how many different ways he can murder me for murdering someone else. Or maybe how many crimes he feels like charging me with.

  About an hour and half later, Sir is pulling off the main road and onto a dirt path with an obvious destination in mind. He pulls off into a clearing, kills the engine, and stares out the front windshield. My eyes scan the surrounding areas quite unfamiliar with where we are. The trees are blocking out most of the light. The green from them fading into an obvious brown. An obvious change of seasons. Sir and I haven't been camping together since I was six. And even then we lived in a different part of the state.

  “Let's go,” he clears his throat exiting the vehicle.