Page 4 of The Cruelest Chaos

I rarely see that tattoo. Rarely think that name. But there it is, in a barely legible script trailing from my wrist, over the edge of my hand, halfway down my pinkie.

I close my eyes, try to clear my mind.

Let it go.

Fuck a girl.

I hope my brothers are together tonight, and I don’t mean here. I mean in one spot, physically together. I need to be around people that can make me forget.

For once,God is on my side. It doesn’t take me long to find my brothers, out in the forest adjacent to Liber. I passed men setting uprealfireworks at the far back of the parking lot on my way out here, and the forest is a good place to watch the show.

Everyone is here, save for Sid and Lucifer. I briefly think about dragging them out here, think about confronting him in front of her, but what would be the point?

Let it go.

“Who’s that?” I keep my eyes on Natalie’s, but she knows who I’m talking about. It’s the only other girl in our group out here in the forest. The only person I don’t know.

“Oh,” Natalie says, darting a glance at the redhead. “That’s Ella.”

I inhale from my joint (turns out I didn’t need to bring my own weed after all) while Atlas helps Ezra with the fire and Cain scrolls through his phone, no doubt looking for a late night booty call to come to him out here. If he only knew there was one probably still waiting in Lucifer’s room where Ezra left her.

I exhale through my nose. See Natalie swallow in the glow from the fire at our backs, the lights the pyrotechnics are using keeping this part of the forest well lit. Music is playing from a box speaker Atlas has set up. Some shit I don’t know.

Natalie’s pupils are pinpricks and I wonder if Atlas knows she pops pills.

Seems everyone is keeping secrets these days, so it wouldn’t exactly surprise me if he didn’t. Although he’d have to be a fucking idiot to not know.

“And who the fuck is Ella?” It comes out harsher than I mean it to, but I’m a little on edge. Being horny, hungry, and having just beat a woman to death with a hammer does that to people.

Natalie brings her hand to her throat, fiddling with the orange scarf she’s got on. It’s notthatcold outside but whatever. I guess I can’t talk. I’m wearing a fucking bandana.

“She’s...” Natalie swallows, takes a tiny step back from me as if I won’t notice. As if I’m a rabid dog. Close enough, I guess. “She goes to the school I volunteer at.”

I frown. Glance at the redhead. She’s still sitting away from the rest of us, her back against a tree, head turned to the side, away from me. I have a bad feeling about her. I happen to like bad feelings.

I toss the spliff at my feet and do my due diligence not to set these woods on fire by grinding it out with my boot. “Natalie. Can you just explain what the fuck you’re talking about?” I don’t know a damn thing about Natalie except that she goes to AU and fucks Atlas. I definitely don’t know what fucking school she volunteers at. I didn’t know druggies could even be volunteers. Now that I do, it’s like a whole new world has opened up for me.

Ah, the possibilities.

“I help out at a place called The Ark. For people with uh...special needs. Mental health issues.”

This time I don’t just glance at the girl. I stare at her as I slide my hands into my pockets.

“So, what’s wrong with her?”

Natalie gives a nervous laugh. “She’s um...”

I turn my head, looking at Natalie. I want to wring her fucking neck.Just spit it the fuck out.

“She just doesn’t talk a lot. And she’s got um...well, Mayhem, I shouldn’t really say—”

I cut her off with a glare. “Atlas know you’re doing so many drugs?”

She looks like she might faint. I hear the fire pop at our backs. Hear Atlas laugh and Ezra’s rumbling voice. Atlas might not be laughing if he knew I was threatening his girl, but I don’t give a shit. I could use a fight right now with someone. Anyone.

None of my brothers have asked me about Pammie. Only Ezra really knows, and he’s the least likely to talk to them about it, so they might be clueless. Either way, with Natalie here, we couldn’t discuss it anyway.

And I don’t want to. It’s not that that’s got me on edge. It’s…everything else.