Chaos (Kings of Carnage Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Hilary Storm

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.hilarystormwrites.com

  Cover Model: Dylan Horsch

  Photographer: Mario Zermeno

  Cover Design: CT Cover Creations

  Editor: Kellie Montgomery

  Synopsis

  I’ve given up my entire life for my father’s club. He and I agreed on a compromise years ago and I haven’t looked back since. When things get messy… I’m the one they call to come in and clean it up. They call me Chaos for a reason.

  We have a motto we stand by as the Kings of Carnage… Brothers before all others. No exceptions.

  Until her.

  She crashes into my dark world like an explosion to the heart and as I watch her naked body hang in an empty room, I have to decide whether to save her from the darkness or become her worst nightmare.

  The club expects one thing… but I want another. The only question is, how bad do I want it?

  Prologue

  Cambri

  I’m going to die here.

  I jerk my head to the right the second I hear breathing in the room. “Why are you doing this?” My screams are muffled into moans as I attempt to speak around the ball gag strapped across my face. Why are you doing this? Saliva falls to the floor in a splash and the harsh silence fucks with my mind even more while my body is raked in shivers from the cold air on my naked skin.

  “Please.” Tears slide over my cheeks, each one chasing the last trying to escape the tight blindfold that’s securing the darkness. I wiggle and pull against the rope restraints holding my arms and ankles tightly in a way that I’m displayed as an ‘X’. My toes burn while I force myself to stay tall against my restraints, working to minimize the fire where the rope is twisting my skin.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been hanging here, but my body tells me that it’s been long enough. I’ve never been more exposed in my entire life and coming to terms with what may happen to me is terrifying.

  It’s a few minutes before I hear any movement in the room and then the breathing gets closer. My skin erupts as a warm breeze hits my shoulder, my senses on full alert as I hope to gain an ounce of existence in this nightmare.

  If I could just see through the cloth tied around my head, then maybe I’d have a clue as to what’s happening. I try like hell to recognize something… a smell… anything giving me a clue as to who the person is behind the breathing against my ear. But I’m not picking up anything specifically familiar. A cologne I’ve never smelled mixed with a slight hint of smoke and alcohol overwhelms me just as the cold sends another shiver over my body.

  “Please.” I strain to speak again, only to release a babble of nonsense instead. A breeze of air brushes over my neck and I force myself to concentrate on everything I can, calming the chaos inside my mind just long enough to understand the reality. This is bad. Real bad.

  A deep breath against my other ear startles me, so I shift my head just enough to come in contact with a cheek full of beard. It’s for sure a man.

  He pulls away quickly when my face touches him, but I still get some information from that small encounter. I can tell he’s taller than I am by the way his head was leaning in toward my neck. His beard is full and longer than any man I can think of off the top of my head, except my friend’s brother and some of his friends.

  I push all the details I can get to the back of my mind, knowing I’ll take my time to analyze everything fully… if I get the chance later.

  “Why are you doing this?” I’m scared out of my mind, but still refuse to go down without a fight, so I scream around the gag. The ropes restrict the rest of my body from doing any harm, so all I’m left with is the hope that my mouth can get me out of here. Everything tells me it won’t be easy, but I won’t lay down and take whatever it is this man plans to do with me.

  I listen to his heavy footsteps leave the room; it’s obvious he wants me to hear him. The door slams closed, and a click of the lock verifies that I’m isolated, just as I imagined.

  Panic sets in as I allow myself to understand the probability of me surviving this is very slim. People don’t live to tell stories like this… this right here is straight out of the crime stories I always avoid hearing about on the news.

  The disturbing behavior of an insane person may intrigue some people, but I’d just as soon stay clear of the psychos of this world and have always worked hard to make sure I wasn’t in the path of someone like this.

  I never walk alone at night. I always lock my doors and even check in with my best friend after work every day just to make sure she’s safe. It’s something I’ve always done. I’m the cautious one… so how in the hell has something bad like this happened to me?

  My mind is flooded with the possibilities of who it could be, attempting to ignore the pain I’m in or the fact that I’m completely bared naked for anyone to see and do whatever they want to. I’m absolutely vulnerable… and I can’t stand that.

  The click of the lock pulls me from all thought and my senses heighten the second he opens the door. One… two… three… four… five steps until he stops. He doesn’t make an effort to sneak in this time and is loud about setting something down on what sounds like a wooden surface. I hear his frustration in his exhale as he walks closer to me. One… two… three… four more steps until I feel his breath on my face. I count on purpose, trying to get a mental picture of where I’m at.

  His rough fingers grip the strap on my face, roughly sliding it down until my jaw is free of restraint; the ball gag hits my chin before he pulls it away. He grips my cheeks together forcing my mouth to remain open and I know with everything inside me he is literally an inch from my face, inspecting and watching for me to make a wrong move.

  “Take this.” He drops a pill on my tongue and before I know what’s happening, he’s pouring water in my mouth. Thrashing my head back and forth, desperately working to break free from his hold, I gag until he releases me and I spit out the water.

  His grip on my cheeks tightens before I can comprehend the size of the pill or what he could possibly be forcing me to take. “You will take this fucking pill if I have to fight you all night and make you take it.” I don’t recognize his voice, but then again, he’s angry.

  “Please. Don’t.”

  He holds my mouth open, even though I’m fighting like crazy with the few inches I have to thrash. He manages to tilt my head back just enough to drop it deep in my throat before he pours more water, then pinches my nose closed and effectively forces me to swallow. “Next time, someone might make you pay for a stunt like that,” he speaks against my cheek. His lips brush my skin with every word, sending chills of disgust over my entire body while nausea sets in my stomach.

  I cry and cough, grasping to regain my senses as he puts the gag back in my mouth to silence me again. The coldness of my body as he walks away is a welcome pain, and something I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to.

  “It’s for your own good,” his deep voice sounds more distant and I imagine him not even looking back as he disregards me and walks out the door. Nine steps until he’s gone again. Nine ste
ps until I close my eyelids under the blindfold and squeeze out the tears, only to have them pool even faster and fill my eyes once again.

  It’s hard to have any hope as I hang in the cold silence. I just can’t get past the feeling that I’ve seen the last bit of light I’ll ever see, and I find myself praying that I’ll be able to handle the pain I’m sure to face. The uncertainty is definitely fucking with my mind, but there’s one thing that keeps playing over and over in my head...

  I’m going to die here.

  Chapter One

  Chaos

  (One week earlier)

  I step into the smoke-filled room that I’ve never been invited to grace before. “My son. The apple of my mother fuckin’ eye.” Vic’s words spray out of his mouth in slurs and I have to hold the both of us up as he throws an arm over my shoulder to keep his balance. “The branch that fell from my goddamn tree. Even though you’ll be the youngest here, I’m fuckin’ proud to have ya at my table.” He holds his whiskey glass in the air to gain the cheers from everyone in the room, not a single soul correcting his references. He’s the President of our club… and my father when the timing is right. “I knew from day one that you’d live and die for this place. You have too much fun causing all the chaos you do.”

  I guess you could say I’ve learned to take out my aggression and make good money all at the same time. I’ve always known how to fight and don’t have a problem being a mean mother fucker when time calls for it. I’ve even been known to fuck up entire situations and cause a complete disaster just to get a job done and make a point. It’s how I picked up my club name, Chaos.

  I let their grunts and nods welcome me in the door, while they all have their drinks raised in one hand and a cigar in the other.

  I’ve been known to break the rule of this room a few times in the past, but I stopped after Church caught me with my dick out and a piece of club ass bent over the table when I was sixteen. He made it his personal mission to make me understand and respect the history of the club and this table and how it’s officers only for a reason. I can honestly say I still feel the souls of all the past officers that have graced this room as I enter tonight. He made sure my respect ran deep and I can’t thank him enough for the hard lesson he taught me. I may’ve wanted to cut his throat then, but I learned to admire him and the club because of it. There’s no doubt that sense of history has made me a better member.

  The loud sound of all the glasses hitting the table at the same time goes straight through my bones as I watch them all drink in approval of my promotion to Enforcer.

  “Chaos. Tonight, you become a King of Kings.” Vic moves to toss a box in front of me while the others slide the tequila around the table to fill up their whiskey glasses once again. “Go ahead. Open it.” I let my fingers glide over the leather before I lift it into view.

  “Your new cut. Wear this with pride, Son. And don’t let a single mother fucker pry it away from you unless it’s out of the grip of your cold dead hands.” Hearing those words of commitment from Church mean even more to me than I imagined. Church pushes his hand out to shake mine as the depth of his words sink in. I’ve looked forward to this day for years. My fate was destined a long time ago when I chose to walk the path of the club without a fight, striking a deal with Vic.

  Church calls me Son, has since the first day he saw me nearly fifteen years ago when he took me under his wing and became more of a father to me than my own. I guess you’d expect that from the club’s Chaplain, but his guidance over the years has surpassed any duty he would need to uphold as an officer of this club.

  Honored doesn’t come close to how I feel as they all watch me closely. Vic lifts his glass, once again a thunderous boom as they all hit the table and then shoot down the high dollar liquid fire before they all stand to congratulate me.

  I slip on the jacket with pride as they approach one at a time, gripping me by the shoulder to squeeze their acknowledgment of my promotion.

  The patches on my cut and having a seat at this table are really the only changes I have stepping into the Enforcer position. I’ve been handling all of that side of the business for a few years now without the title.

  “Drink up. You’re behind by three already.” Church is still wearing the largest smile in the room as he hands me one of the same glasses they all just drank from. Tequila spills over the top of it as he slips it into my hand. I take it all down like its water running through a pipe. This part of it is just like any other day in the club that I’ve mastered over time.

  I hear the door open and the roar of the crowd in the rest of the house fills the room before Vic slams the door behind him as he steps out. There’s no doubt about the size of the party tonight here at the clubhouse.

  “About damn time you get the recognition you deserve.” Poe pulls me in for a rough hug before he shoves me back and slaps me across the back. “I’m here for ya if you need anything. You know I got your back, brother.” Poe is our Sergeant at Arms and another man I look up to daily. He carries himself in such a way that not a single mother fucker crosses him, mainly because all who have are no longer here to try it again. He’s the last man to take an empty seat at this table, and that was at least ten years ago. Poe is serious in his stance, like he always is, but he does allow me to see a small smirk showing how proud he is of me.

  “I know you do. You always have.” I can’t help the smile that’s taken over my face at this point. The men in this room have raised me since I was twelve years old. Their influence made me into the man I am today, good or bad, it’s who I am and who I’ll always be. I’ve never had to apologize for anything and that’s because these men have paved the way for all the members of Kings of Carnage.

  Poe hands me another glass of tequila and I down it with satisfaction even though I know I’m going to feel like death tomorrow. Fuck it. This night calls for a celebration if I’ve ever seen one.

  “Alright… everyone, sit the fuck down and let’s move on to our next topic. Club Ass.” My father yells at everyone before he flops down in the chair at the head of the table. The tequila bottle slides across the wood once again and they all take turns filling up but not taking a drink yet, so I follow suit.

  “We all know the rules. Ass can’t come into this club unless we approve in here. Spike has the new girls lined up and ready for us to say yay or nay.” Spike is the Vice President. He’s my father’s right-hand man and it’s not often that you see one of them without the other unless one of them has gone to bed.

  I sit back in my chair and begin to look forward to the scene that’s about to play out. This is a tiny part of the history I was taught and until now, I haven’t been sure how many of the stories were legends and how many were just made up dramatics that Church used to lure me into being a believer of the club. But if any part of that story comes true… I’ll be a fuckin’ believer.

  Some of the guys get pissed about the process, but I’ve never really let it bother me. They hate waiting for a girl to get the club approval before she’s allowed to show up at one of our famous parties.

  But to me… Ass is ass. Pussy is pussy. And my dick loves all the ass and pussy it can get. If a girl doesn’t pass the club test, there’ll be fifteen others that will and they all seem to make their way to me. I just have to sit somewhere and wait a few minutes before they begin to circle.

  “Alright… the new prospect sent us the first two.” I watch as two blonde girls prance through the door as the roar of the crowd in the rest of the house slips into the room once again.

  Nice tits.

  Firm bodies.

  Long hair.

  Confidence.

  Cookie cutter Club Ass.

  Spike takes them each by the hand and twirls them around so we all get a full look of both of them.

  “Fuck yeah. They both get my vote. Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” Gus barks out his approval and pats his legs, signaling them to sit. They both smile and neither hesitate to obey Gus’ demand, even when he fills his
hands full of their tits and even an ass grab before they lower themselves on his lap. “Which one of you is gonna suck my cock first?” Gus’ voice fills the room just before Spike opens the door once again.

  If Spike is my father’s right-hand… then Gus is the left. He’s the Road Captain and yet another guy who’s been here as long as I can remember.

  “These next two girls decided to walk straight up to our front gate yesterday asking about our next club party. I’m not sure what the fuck they were thinkin’. Who wants to show them what we’re all about? Bring in the next two.” Spike yells to someone just outside the door. I can just imagine the line of girls and all the club brothers drooling while they wait to see who makes it past this test. Not that many of them fail. Usually the girls they bring in here are begging to get their claws in someone from the club. We have a reputation of taking care of things in this town, so if you get lucky enough to make it inside these walls, you’ll be set for life. Unless you fuck up and we have to end things. That’s where I come in.

  “I’ll take em.” Bates speaks up before they even enter the room. There’s really only one way to describe Bates. He’s the most fucked up of us all and psychotic might be a little too nice of a label to give him. That’s a man I’ve yet to test over the years. He’s club treasurer… runs all the money through the club and is the one who does most of the collecting. His reputation precedes him and very few are stupid enough to challenge him enough that I have to become a solution to making sure things are done as agreed.

  I watch as Spike walks the two girls over to Bates and smile when I see the disappointment in both of their eyes as they look my way. I can only imagine my reserved look tells them exactly what I’m thinking… ‘Sorry, I’m not going to go against any of these guys for pussy.’