Read Online Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) by Xavier Neal - Free Book Online
Authors: Xavier Neal
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seeing that bastard on the news last night next to
your father did something to you. So please, angel please, don't
shut me out. Don't shut back down.”
When I feel her body relax, I loosen my grip.
Fuck. I don't want her to run away. I don't want her to push me
away. I don't want the angel I've come to love to go away. But I
know if I try to force her to stay, even in my arms, it's exactly
what'll happen. My heart starts thumping a little harder. Anxious.
Terrified.
Haven whispers, “Lay with me?”
I nod and let the back of my head hit the
pillow. She nestles her face on my chest and lets my arms wrap
around her again. Thank God. I will my racing heart to slow the
fuck down. To return to a pace that's not trying to send me to an
early grave. The two of us lay in the early morning light of the
moon glowing from my window. All is quiet. Silent. Still.
“I was dreaming about the first time my
parents introduced me to Old Man Banks.” My body strains against
her from that bastards name alone. I'm glad he's fucking dead. When
I don't comment she continues, “His name...his real name, was
Samuel Banks. The first time I met him we were actually here in
Texas. We had met Dad in Dallas so Mom could do some shopping and
so I could go to the zoo. We met Old Man Banks for lunch. He was
wearing dark jeans and a black button up shirt. A beige cowboy hat.
He was constantly sucking his teeth. Looking at me
like...like...like that way that makes your skin crawl. I was nine
for God's sake. Nine and he was looking at me like that.”
Tensing next to her once more I close my eyes
tight, the urge to slit that bastard throat growing all over again.
Fuck. I can't fucking hear any more of this. I know I said I wanted
to but I can't. If I have to hear any more about him I'm not sure I
can keep my composure. I know for Haven I fucking need to. I'm 2
days from returning to active duty. I have to get shit back under
control.
“I didn't have aunts or uncles. Grandparents
were already passed away. Old Man Banks was one of Dad's oldest
friends. They grew up in church together, so he figured he would be
a good person to raise me if anything ever happened to them. Mom
said Old Man Banks had a beautiful farm with horses and pigs and
all the other things a little girl wants to hear about it. And at
nine, I never thought I'd actually have to go there.”
I can't keep listening. She has to stop. My
eyes squeeze tighter and I hold her closer.
“When I finally did end up in his care a few
years later...I knew he was a bad man. Cruel, Sadistic, Sick and
calculated. And late at night when I would cry myself to sleep in
the beginning, all I kept asking God was why my parents couldn't
see it. Why would they leave me with someone like him?”
In a strained voice I try, “Haven--”
“My parents were great people. Loving.
Wonderful. I remember my mom bought me an Easy Bake Oven when I
turned 7 even though the box said for 8 and up. Told me, we
wouldn't tell Dad. It would be our little secret. And Dad...when he
was traveling would call every evening to make sure to kiss me
goodnight through the phone and tell me how much he missed me.
Every night. How could two people that special not see the sick
monster they had promised me too?”
My breath shortens as I struggle to breathe
through the pain of the new information. Of the realization that
the angel in my arms may have healed but has so far to go. So
fucking far and I have to walk away. From her. That she has to do
it alone. I don't want her to do it alone, but I have no fucking
choice.
30 Days til School
10 months. 10 months since I've been home. 10
months since I've held that girl of mine in my arms. 10 months
since she's been more than a small video feed on a screen. An
email. A text. A phone call. Don't be mistaken. I love my country.
I'm proud to wake up every morning to fight for it. If I die in the
field, it'll be an honor not a curse. But fuck me; I'm glad that
I'm home. Well
your father did something to you. So please, angel please, don't
shut me out. Don't shut back down.”
When I feel her body relax, I loosen my grip.
Fuck. I don't want her to run away. I don't want her to push me
away. I don't want the angel I've come to love to go away. But I
know if I try to force her to stay, even in my arms, it's exactly
what'll happen. My heart starts thumping a little harder. Anxious.
Terrified.
Haven whispers, “Lay with me?”
I nod and let the back of my head hit the
pillow. She nestles her face on my chest and lets my arms wrap
around her again. Thank God. I will my racing heart to slow the
fuck down. To return to a pace that's not trying to send me to an
early grave. The two of us lay in the early morning light of the
moon glowing from my window. All is quiet. Silent. Still.
“I was dreaming about the first time my
parents introduced me to Old Man Banks.” My body strains against
her from that bastards name alone. I'm glad he's fucking dead. When
I don't comment she continues, “His name...his real name, was
Samuel Banks. The first time I met him we were actually here in
Texas. We had met Dad in Dallas so Mom could do some shopping and
so I could go to the zoo. We met Old Man Banks for lunch. He was
wearing dark jeans and a black button up shirt. A beige cowboy hat.
He was constantly sucking his teeth. Looking at me
like...like...like that way that makes your skin crawl. I was nine
for God's sake. Nine and he was looking at me like that.”
Tensing next to her once more I close my eyes
tight, the urge to slit that bastard throat growing all over again.
Fuck. I can't fucking hear any more of this. I know I said I wanted
to but I can't. If I have to hear any more about him I'm not sure I
can keep my composure. I know for Haven I fucking need to. I'm 2
days from returning to active duty. I have to get shit back under
control.
“I didn't have aunts or uncles. Grandparents
were already passed away. Old Man Banks was one of Dad's oldest
friends. They grew up in church together, so he figured he would be
a good person to raise me if anything ever happened to them. Mom
said Old Man Banks had a beautiful farm with horses and pigs and
all the other things a little girl wants to hear about it. And at
nine, I never thought I'd actually have to go there.”
I can't keep listening. She has to stop. My
eyes squeeze tighter and I hold her closer.
“When I finally did end up in his care a few
years later...I knew he was a bad man. Cruel, Sadistic, Sick and
calculated. And late at night when I would cry myself to sleep in
the beginning, all I kept asking God was why my parents couldn't
see it. Why would they leave me with someone like him?”
In a strained voice I try, “Haven--”
“My parents were great people. Loving.
Wonderful. I remember my mom bought me an Easy Bake Oven when I
turned 7 even though the box said for 8 and up. Told me, we
wouldn't tell Dad. It would be our little secret. And Dad...when he
was traveling would call every evening to make sure to kiss me
goodnight through the phone and tell me how much he missed me.
Every night. How could two people that special not see the sick
monster they had promised me too?”
My breath shortens as I struggle to breathe
through the pain of the new information. Of the realization that
the angel in my arms may have healed but has so far to go. So
fucking far and I have to walk away. From her. That she has to do
it alone. I don't want her to do it alone, but I have no fucking
choice.
30 Days til School
10 months. 10 months since I've been home. 10
months since I've held that girl of mine in my arms. 10 months
since she's been more than a small video feed on a screen. An
email. A text. A phone call. Don't be mistaken. I love my country.
I'm proud to wake up every morning to fight for it. If I die in the
field, it'll be an honor not a curse. But fuck me; I'm glad that
I'm home. Well
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