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  Love and Chaos © 2019

  All Rights Reserved.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for the support of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of the author’s imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind’s eye and are not to be interpreted as real.

  ISBN: 9781386791829

  Copyright © 2019 S.M. Soto

  Book Cover Design by Najla Qamber

  Editing by Ellie Mclove of My Brother’s Editor

  Interior Design/Formatting by Champagne Book Design

  Warning: This book is intended for mature audiences due to very disturbing situations, strong language, and graphic violence. May contain triggers for abuse victims.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  OTHER BOOKS BY S.M. SOTO

  PLAYLIST

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  READER NOTE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  The Chaos Series

  Deception and Chaos

  Blood and Chaos

  The San Diegan Series

  The Darkest Hour

  Scoring the Quarterback

  Damaged Heart

  Coming Soon

  Ache: A Second Chance Romance

  A Cruel Love

  Kiss Me with Lies

  SPOTIFY

  Go To War—Nothing More

  Zombie—Bad Wolves

  Going Bad—Meek Mill Ft. Drake

  Sinner—Drowning Pool

  A Little Wicked—Valerie Broussard

  Monster—Colours

  High—Sir Sly

  Coming Undone—KORN

  Bittersweet Memories—Bullet For my Valentine

  Walk Through the Fire—ZAYDE WOLF

  World Gone Mad—Bastille

  I’m A Wanted Man—Royal Deluxe

  Devils—Say hi

  Holy Water—Laurel

  Soldier—Fleurie

  Madness—Ruelle

  Angels Fall—Breaking Benjamin

  Yours—Ella Henderson

  Unsteady—X Ambassadors

  Carry You—Ruelle, Fleurie

  Ocean Eyes—Billie Ellish

  You Are The Reason—Calum Scott, Leona Lewis

  Can’t Help Falling In Love—Christian Leave

  National Human Trafficking Resource Center:

  1(888)373-7888

  SMS: 233733 (Text “HELP” or “INFO”)

  traffickingresourcecenter.org

  My readers, I can’t say this enough — thank you.

  Thank you for your undying support. Your optimism. Your love for Creed and Sophia.

  This one is for you.

  #AllHailCreed

  “JUST HANG ON, BABY. I know it hurts but hang on just a little longer.” He breathes into my hair, and I try to grasp onto him and his voice, but I can’t. It hurts so much. Why did it have to hurt so much?

  Another shooting pain in my stomach causes me to let out a scream that rattles the walls around us.

  “C’mon, baby,” Creed breathes into my ear. “You can do this. I need you to hang on, Sophia. Can you do that? Please hang on, my beautiful girl. I can’t lose you.”

  A wave of pain so strong slams into me, completely knocking the air out of my lungs. My vision goes black, and a blood curdling scream rips past my lips from the pain.

  I BREATHE IN THE FRESH air. The smell of the trees. The sound of children playing on the playground. I tilt my head back and smile as the sun sizzles against my skin. It feels so good to be out here. I know my time is running out; Garrett said twenty minutes was long enough, but I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I’m trying to make this feeling last.

  My hands drift to my growing belly, and I rub in small, soothing circles, enjoying the way my little one moves. Our little man has been growing more and more active over the last few weeks. His favorite game to play is kick mommy in the ribs.

  I look toward the playground and smile as I watch countless children enjoying themselves. I still can’t believe I’ll have one of these precious little gifts soon. Creed and I will have our little love running around us, wanting to go down the slide, asking for help on the monkey bars, the snapshots of what the future holds makes me smile.

  My attention catches on the little boy with a striped shirt, standing near his dad. His eyes are fixed on me, his head cocked to the side as he watches me. My smile widens, and I raise my hand, waving at him. He must take that as an invitation to run to me because he closes the distance between us, not at all afraid of the hulking men surrounding me.

  “Hi,” he says, stopping in front of me. I feel Garrett, Matteo, and Monte step forward protectively, but I shoot them a glare.

  He’s a child for Christ’s sake.

  Dropping down into something that resembles a squat, I smile down at the little boy. He has curly blond hair and his nose is decorated in freckles.

  “Hi, buddy. What’s your name?”

  He shifts on his tiny little legs. He has to be no older than five years old. “Cole.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Sophia.”

  Cole cocks his head to the side and gives me a funny look. “I know who you are already.”

  My brows shoot up. “Oh, you do?” I ask, trying to hold back my laugh.

  “Yeah. That man right there told me your name already.”

  He points over to the man I thought was his father, who has his back to me. My smile falls, and my brows furrow.

  “Your dad already knew my name?” I ask him, not understanding.

  He laughs. “That’s not my daddy. He’s a friend of Mommy’s. He asked me to do this for him, so me and Mommy can finally go home. He said his name is Fin. Like the fin of a shark.”

  A ragged gasp rips from my chest, and I stumble backward on shaking legs. They suddenly feel like jelly. All the color drains from my face and my ears start to ring. The sound blares loudly, I’m not even hearing the little boy’s words anymore. All I’m focused on is the man in the blue shirt who turns to face us with a grin I’m all too familiar with.

  No. This isn’t happening.

  It’s another dream.

  A sick nightmare.

  This isn
’t happening!

  I clench my eyes shut and shake my head, trying to wake up from the nightmare, but when I open my eyes again, he’s still there, much closer now.

  Garrett and Monte curse as they yank out their weapons, aiming straight for Finlay. Matteo, although he’s never seen Finlay, must know something is obviously wrong by the way he steps in front of me protectively.

  “It’s been a long time, love,” Finlay says with a cool smile. His eyes rake up and down my body, settling longer on my swollen belly than they have any right to. He seems so sure of himself which is an odd reaction when you have guns trained on you. He takes a step toward me but freezes at Garrett’s command.

  “Take another fucking step and I’ll shoot.”

  Mothers and children scream as they realize what’s happening around them. Families hurry to pack up, fleeing from the violence that is no doubt about to ensue. Slowly, we inch away from Finlay.

  He blows out a sigh and tsks like my brother should know better. “Oh, Cova. You always were one to play by the rules, but you should already know that I don’t. I have snipers on all your men at this exact moment. So, no, you won’t be shooting me.”

  I feel everyone vibrating with anger. It’s like a live current, swirling in the very air around us. I glance at the brownstones across the street from the park, wondering if his men are in there, right this second, watching us. A chill of dread travels down my spine.

  “How did you know she would be here?” Garrett demands, and Finlay laughs.

  “I’ve had eyes on the estate. I’ve just been waiting for confirmation that the eagle left the nest. And she did, just like I knew she would.” He turns his gaze on me. “You played so well into my hands, love. Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you? I’ve waited years for you—nothing could’ve kept me away. You all forget I’m a man with nothing but time to bide.”

  My heart cracks, and I whimper. I should’ve listened to Garrett. I should’ve followed Creed’s instructions. God, what have I done?

  “Now, if you hand over Sophia nice and slow, no blood will be shed.”

  “Not fucking happening,” Matteo growls. He shields me protectively, standing in front of me like a barricade.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Finlay asks, glee gleaming in his eyes. No one says anything. None of them are going to hand me over that easily.

  Finlay lets out a sigh. “Have it your way.”

  The first shot rings out, and all hell breaks loose.

  The next moments are loud and fast. Garrett, Monte, and Matteo are there within seconds, shielding me and my belly with their bodies as gunfire rains all around us. I hear the sound of bodies thumping onto the ground, but I can’t see anything beyond the shoulders and silhouettes of the men guarding me. Bullets suddenly ring out in quick succession and then we’re moving. There’s a whir of color swirling around my vision, my eyes can’t seem to adjust to what’s happening as I’m being moved. Hands are on me, guiding me away from the violence and I scream. I try to yank free of the grasp, but the fingers curling into my bicep are strong and the person’s hold is unrelenting.

  “Let go of me,” I growl, fighting to escape from the impenetrable hold. Only one person would want to drag me away from everyone, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t let Finlay win. Not this time.

  Footsteps pound on the sidewalks and pavement, more bodies drop, and the stream of bullets never cease. Orders are shouted; I can’t tell which side the orders are coming from—Finlay’s men or Garrett and Matteo. The grip around me tightens, painfully so, then I’m being dragged away. The sound of popping gunfire isn’t as loud here and the hold on my arm loosens long enough that I’m able to look around me and break into a run of my own.

  “Gar! Help!” I scream, afraid that Finlay has somehow gotten a hold of me because I couldn’t see who was on me. It was all wrong. So, so, wrong. My heart is pounding, my lungs are screaming, and my head is swimming. The sound of my blood rushing through my veins roars in my ears. It’s so loud, I almost miss the voice that replies to my hysterical screams.

  “Shhh. You’re fine. You’re safe. We’re bringing you to Creed.”

  My eyes widen at the sound of that voice.

  “Lorenzo?” I whirl, coming face to face with him. He looks a little disheveled, his dark raven hair matted to his forehead, sweat rolling down his temples, intermingling with a light spray of blood on the right side of his face. My brows dip down. “W-what? How-w? Where’s Creed, you’re supposed to be with him?”

  I dart my gaze around us, noticing we’re farther away from the playground and the open section of grass. Now we’re deeper into the park, shielded behind a statue of the lion from Wizard of Oz. Oz Park is aptly named for the statues that are dedicated to characters from the movie.

  My heart lurches and my stomach cramps at the mere thought of something happening to Creed. The sound of gunshots starts to fade the farther we slip into the shadows of the trees and the statue. It’s like Mother Nature can sense the despair, casting a gloomy shadow over the Chicago sky.

  I fight to keep up with Lorenzo’s long strides. I glance over my shoulder, looking back at the scene unfolding through the trees and it’s like watching a war movie. Men are holding automatics, firing off round after round and bodies litter the floor of the park.

  What would normally be a calming sight, a wide-open expanse of lush green grass and a playground filled with children, now looks eerie and desolate. Bodies litter the grass, spatters of blood coat the pavement, and the playground is now completely empty. The swing sets are still swinging desolately, not a soul in sight.

  “We were. Until he got a call that his girl decided to go for a stroll in the park and that didn’t sit too well with him. He was on his way back the minute he heard you wanted to leave the estate.” Lorenzo huffs, his feet crunching through the blades of grass.

  I clench my eyes shut, fighting back tears. My stomach is churning, the images of all the fresh dead bodies on the floor keep flashing in my head, on repeat.

  This is all my fault.

  How many of those guys are our own men?

  The thought has my stomach cramping and I jolt my hand out, trying to steady myself by using Lorenzo’s body.

  “I’m so sorry,” I choke.

  “You will be once Creed gets ahold of you.” He chuckles without humor. The sound is eerie. “But for now, you need to stay put with him. Listen to whatever he says. Got it?”

  “With who—” I start to ask, but I see who he’s talking about the second I’m handed off to a group of men dressed in leather and strapped with guns. My heart squeezes in a vise and my stomach bottoms out, fear sending another shock of pain through my body. I clasp my free hand to my swollen belly and take a wary step back. I shoot Lorenzo a look, my eyes wide with fear.

  “What are you doing Lorenzo? Who are they? Where’s Creed—”

  With a roll of his eyes, Lorenzo pushes me toward a man with sandy blond, unkempt hair that grazes his shoulders, and hazel eyes. “Keep her safe. If anything happens to her, Creed will not only kill you but me too.”

  The man with the shaggy blond hair that now has a firm grip on my arm smirks at Lorenzo. “I’m the one doing him a favor. He should be thanking me.”

  I try to wrap my brain around everything that’s happening as I watch Lorenzo stroll back toward the violence, weaving through trees, popping off shots from a distance as he goes. I whirl around, taking in the group of men before me.

  “Who are you?”

  I’m wary. After everything that has transpired, I don’t know who to trust. I can’t tell if this is some kind of trap. I’ve never seen these men before. I didn’t even know Creed knew men in biker gangs.

  “We’re here to help.” Is all the man with the hazel eyes offers. He looks like a rugged version of the actor Colton Haynes. Only this guy is covered in tattoos and screams of violence.

  I protectively wrap my arms around my belly and take a step away from the men strapp
ed with weapons and leather cuts. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I was promised a chance at vengeance.”

  My heart skids to an abrupt halt and ice floods my veins.

  “Vengeance?” My brows pull down. I take another wary step back. Goosebumps scatter over my arms as I dart my gaze to the rest of his men, keeping my eye on each of them in case they try anything.

  “Someone very close to me died because of these men. Because of that piece of shit out there. I want him dead.”

  Of their own accord, my eyes drift toward the patch on his leather cut. A creepy looking skull with Son’s of Death written around it. Why does that name sound so familiar? What the hell am I missing? And who are these guys?

  The pieces of the puzzle slowly start snapping together and my eyes widen. “You knew Ricky?”

  The man smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile. “He was my brother.”

  Oh, shit.

  How did I miss this? Ricky came from a family of bikers. This I knew. But I had no idea he had a brother. I also didn’t know said brother was in contact with Creed.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “I’m sorry.”

  He glances away, his eyes darting around us, snapping me back to the fact that we’re in the middle of a gunfight. This is no place for a conversation. His gaze swivels along the street behind him, pausing on something. I do the same, spotting a large van parked along the curb. It’s gotta be his. And even if it isn’t, we can use it. It’s big enough to fit most of the guys.

  I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. He’s trying to calculate how to get me and everyone else inside of that van safely.

  I start to do the same.

  If only we can get to it without attracting attention. So far, the gunfight hasn’t spread in our direction. Yet.

  He turns back around and his eyes narrow on something, and as if his men can sense it, they step closer, closing in around me, creating a circle—a barricade that guards me.

  “Just worry about staying out of the way, princess,” he says, pulling me behind him. “If anything happens to you, we’re all fucked.”