Created in Chaos (Corrupt Credence Book 2), page 3
“I wouldn’t do it,” she admits, equally as quiet. “I just like pissing you off.”
“And you do it so well. Now rest so you can get the hell out of here. Hospitals give me hives.”
“You said you would tell me what happened,” she insists, ignoring his comment about hospitals.
“I didn’t say when I would tell you,” he counters, causing Nova to open her mouth in protest, but my brother silences her by pressing a gentle finger to her lips. “Besides, you need to sleep. Is that really what you want to be thinking about right now?”
“I don’t like not knowing what happened to me. I’m imagining all kinds of crazy things in my head. Just tell me, please.”
I watch Lucian crumble under her plea. His shoulders fall, and something inside him aches. He stands, looks at me for encouragement, then leans down and places his lips against the side of her face.
He’s going to tell her what we know.
NOVA
“You were found in the bathroom down the hall from the Union.” As Lucian speaks, I expect some recollection to accompany his words, but there’s still a yawning emptiness inside me.
“I was at school?” I assumed I was in a car wreck, since I kept thinking about the accident. “What happened?” My question is frantic as panic wells up inside me, causing a wave of tremors to rack my body.
“You’re safe, we won’t let anything else happen to you again.” Lucian strokes his hand over my head, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“What happened?” I ask again, more insistent this time.
“You were attacked.”
Even though I knew the words were coming, I’m still not prepared for them. The gaping hole inside me surrounding the event grows larger and threatens to swallow me up. Someone did this to me. It had to be more than one someone, because I refuse to think that I could have gotten in this shape any other way. I feel battered, like I did after the accident.
“I was in the bathroom?” I try to think back to my last memory, and the only thing that comes to mind is waking up between Lucian and Nox. It was still dark out, so I pretended I was still asleep for a while longer just so I could stay there with them on the couch and not feel alone.
I don’t even remember getting off the couch or leaving their house. It’s all blank after that, until my dreams and fuzzy memories of trying to wake up at the hospital.
“I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?” I look between the two brothers, and a sick thought forms in my head without warning. Did they drug me or something, and that’s why I can’t remember anything after spending the morning with them?
“Don’t look at me like that, lamb. You’ve never once been afraid of me, so don’t start that shit now,” Lucian demands, then explains, “You got hit in the head and had some swelling in your brain. The doctors said you might not remember what happened.”
“Jesus,” I hiss as the seriousness of what happened begins to set in. Who the hell could hate me that much? My eyes lift to Lucian. He hates…hated me, but it feels off. He’s too arrogant to deny his involvement if he really were part of this. The tension in my muscles eases, and I settle deeper into the crappy mattress.
“Don’t doubt me again,” he grumbles dejectedly, as if he knows exactly what I was thinking and that I arrived at the conclusion that he most likely wasn’t involved.
“Or what?” I challenge, but it comes out weakly.
He lets out a soft chuckle, and I feel him lean over me before tender lips brush across my forehead. “Or I might make you stroke…” I blink my eyes open to glare up at his cruelly curled lips. “My ego,” he finishes around a smile.
“The only thing I’m going to be stroking is a knife over your throat.” It shouldn’t feel so comforting to threaten him, but it does, and we both know I wouldn’t really do it. Well, I think he knows I wouldn’t anyway.
I feel Lucian’s heavy huff of surprise against the side of my face before he nuzzles my ear. “Oh, lamb, I’m going to hold you to that, but you’ll be riding my cock at the same time.”
I gulp, pretending his comment isn’t slightly terrifying and exciting at the same time.
“Now rest so you can get out of this bed, and we can figure out who did this and make them regret touching you.”
NOX
I squint up at the sun when I exit the hospital. It’s been three days since Nova officially woke up, and the doctors are finally releasing her today. She still can’t remember what happened, and it might be better if she doesn’t. She’s anxious and moody, not that I blame her.
She has nightmares all the time, jerking awake with a scream poised on her lips that never seems to escape her parted mouth. I can’t wait to get her the hell out of here, but Rory thinks she’s returning to the Umbra estate, and that’s not happening.
Lucian will never let her out of his sight. His obsession with her has grown to the point where it’s dangerous for the nurses to even come into the room and disturb her. I know he feels responsible for the attack, and I’m not saying he’s blameless, but I’m worried he’s going to push Nova too far and fuck things up for us because he’s trying to assure himself that she’s safe.
I hand a small slip of paper to the valet standing near the curb, but I doubt he needs it. Our name has been whispered all over this hospital since our arrival. The generous donation we made greased the wheels of the upper management and kept everyone happy, even while my brother acted like a feral asshole ready to lash out at anyone who came close to us or Nova.
I turn my head to see an older man exit a glass door and give the valet a nod of acknowledgement before he tells me, “I’ll take care of that, Mr. Morningstar.”
When he returns with the SUV minutes later, I give my gratitude in the form of a fifty before getting behind the wheel and texting Lucian that we’re good to go.
We only have a small window. Nova’s grandparents know she’s being released today, and despite Lucian’s insistence that she would come home with us, Astrid isn’t on board with the plan, and she could arrive anytime to try to lure our girl away. I’m not sure who Nova would choose to go home with. Considering she’s an adult, the option should be hers, but we’re taking that choice out of her hands, and I don’t feel bad about it.
We still don’t know who attacked her. The bathroom she was assaulted in is just down the hall from the Union, yet no one is coming forward with any information, and all of the cameras were blacked out the night before, letting us know the incident was very much premeditated.
We have a long list of suspects, though, and the elder Umbras haven’t been crossed off the bottom of that list yet, even if it’s purely because we don’t like them. They didn’t stay with Nova. Hell, they barely came to see her the entire time she was in the hospital. We were the ones who were by her bedside every minute, making sure she was okay and that no one tried to fuck with her while she was helpless, which just confirms that they don’t deserve her in their lives.
Lucian is pushing a sour-faced Nova out the door in a wheelchair. I can just imagine her mumbling about being able to walk on her own while he pretends to follow the hospital rules, when we all know he doesn’t follow anyone’s rules unless it suits his needs and having Nova in the chair, completely reliant on him, fits that to a tee.
I jump out of the driver’s seat and open the rear passenger door for her to get in. She gives me a tiny, appreciative smile after pulling herself up and out of the chair, then climbs into the car gingerly. While some of her bruising has begun to fade, I know she’s still hurting, especially her ribs. I’ve had cracked ribs a time or two, and they hurt like a motherfucker, so I get it, but I hate to see her in pain.
Lucian spins the chair around and gives it a little shove as if he can’t be bothered with it anymore since Nova no longer needs it, then he acts as if he’s going to scoot into the seat beside her. “I’m not moving.” She meets his gaze squarely.
I watch the side of my brother’s face, seeing him contemplate his next action. If she were just being stubborn, there would be a battle of wills, but she’s not, and he concedes without a fight, closing the door with a gentle shove, then moving to the front passenger seat.
I’m a little surprised that he didn’t go around and sit next to her but also relieved. I know he means well, but his dogged attention can be overwhelming.
I keep an eye on Nova through the rearview mirror on the ride home and make sure to take the turns slowly so she doesn’t get too jostled. By the time we approach the bridge to the island, she has her head back against the seat and her eyes closed. I know she’s not sleeping, but I take the fact that she’s relaxed as a good sign.
She shouldn’t be surprised when I turn left and sequester her behind our property walls. Lucian has been vocal about her returning here with us, but I check on her anyway. She notices the security staff milling about right away. I watch her head turn to view two of the guards near the gate, which is a recent development.
The truth is, we’ve gotten a little lax with security in the past few years. We’ve come to take things for granted because we’re isolated on the island and assumed that our name and the consequences of what would happen to anyone who fucked with us would be enough of a deterrent, but it wasn’t. It doesn’t matter that we hadn’t officially claimed Nova. She’s a founder, and that should have been enough to make sure she was safe, not to mention Lucian said she was off-limits, and someone had the nerve to leave her for dead in that bathroom, meaning they didn’t heed his warning. There will be hell to pay for what they did to our girl.
“It would be easier if you took me to the Umbras’ estate,” Nova says, speaking for the first time since leaving the hospital.
“How so?” Lucian asks while exiting the car to open the rear door after I pull up near the side entrance.
“It would just be easier.” She places her hand over his proffered palm and allows him to help her get out.
“I don’t agree. The Umbras and all their people are already on my nerves, and I’m not even looking at them. If I had to see their faces all the time, I don’t think I could hold back.”
“Why would you need to see their faces? And hold back from what?” she asks conversationally as he walks slowly beside her to the side door, giving her ample time on the steps. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother have this much patience with anyone.
“Come on now, do you think I’m going to let you out of my sight? I’d have to be there with you. We’ll be more comfortable here, and our house is better anyway. Everything here is better. Plus, every time I turn around, you’re getting harassed, and I’m so over that shit.”
“Usually, I’m being harassed by you,” she mutters under her breath.
Lucian ignores the jab and answers the other part of her question about holding back. “Killing them isn’t off the table.”
Nova stops short after entering the house. “That’s what you’re refraining from? Killing them?”
“Among other things,” he tells her without issue. I suppose it’s better if she understands from the beginning just how serious he is, so it doesn’t come as a surprise later.
“You should probably get some help.”
“No, I’m totally capable of handling them on my own.” He purposely misunderstands her, and she just shakes her head in response. “Come on, Gertrude had someone make up one of the rooms down here for us, so you don’t have to worry about the stairs.” He redirects her down the hall, as if he didn’t just tell her he’s actively restraining himself from killing her family.
NOVA
Sometimes, there are these moments in life that shake you to your core, and you know the world has shifted on its axis, but no one else around you seems to react to it. I’ve only experienced it a few times—the day I woke up in the hospital and found out my parents were both dead, the day I left our trailer and moved into the crummy apartment closer to the city so I could get a better paying job, and the day Mr. Haynsworth knocked on my door. I’m facing one of those moments again, and it’s the first time I haven’t been alone to deal with it.
Lucian Morningstar is kneeling at my feet, untying my scuffed sneakers as if I’m as fragile as glass and as treasured as a precious stone, or whatever rich people value. He tips his face up, and those mesmerizing blue eyes I’ve only ever thought of as beautifully cruel catch me watching him.
His features are relaxed, but there’s no hiding the rawness of Lucian. It fills every fragment of his being, and the fact that he embraces it and doesn’t hide who he is from anyone means there’s no fooling yourself when it comes to him. You can’t pretend he’s a good guy under his gruff exterior. The fact that he’s not and never will be is in your face, just like his unrefined appeal, forcing you to swallow it down and accept him for who he is.
I want to touch him, even though I know it’s dumb, and I’m just as likely to pull back a bloody stump as I am to be granted a kiss from his perfect lips. That alone should make me reconsider, but it doesn’t.
My heart beats faster just from being around him. I feel more alive when he’s near me, and everything feels amplified by his presence. I forget how dangerous he is when he’s looking at me like this, like I’m the answer to the question he didn’t ask, or the enigma he can’t walk away from without turning it inside out to see why it’s so intriguing.
Knowing all this, and the fact that Lucian Morningstar will probably leave me irrevocably broken, I still can’t make myself put any real effort into pushing him away.
My head spins with the sudden realization of how badly I want him to want me and accept me as I am. I also recognize my willingness to accept him, thorns and all. A wave of dizziness has me swaying to the left, and he reaches up to steady me with a look of concern. “Do you need to lie down?”
I shake my head because words seem too complex for me at the moment, and I’m afraid if I open my mouth, he’ll know exactly what I’m thinking and use it against me.
His tattooed hand lifts to cradle my cheek, and I’m helpless not to lean into his touch. I shield my eyes by lowering my lids, knowing I’m conveying just how desperate I am for the affection, but at least now I might not have to see his triumph reflected back at me. How could I fall for the lion? It’s stupid and risky. I know how badly this will end, and yet here I am, breathless because he’s looking at me, and if I’m honest, there’s a part of me that’s thrilled he vowed to protect me. How could I not be awed by that?
“Everything good?” Nox questions, giving me a chance to pull away from Lucian and pretend like I didn’t just expose my soft underbelly to the king of the jungle.
“Just tired of being tired,” I respond noncommittally while pretending to examine the room. It’s another gothic dream. The walls are gray stone, like that of a castle, but the windows are the real showstopper—five floor to ceiling pointed arches intersected with more stonework and lead glass panes dominate the room. The glass is distorted with small bubbles and waves, giving it an ancient feel. The bed mimics the window arches, but in lieu of glass, there are mirrors, blackened with age, reflecting back at me.
“Whose room is this?” I question. I can’t help but think about those mirrors. The image of Lucian looking into the reflective glass while he was with someone else leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“No one’s.” Nox drops onto the bed casually. I let my eyes bounce over the rest of the medieval-looking furniture, including the tufted chaise lounge positioned at the end of the bed. It’s draped with silvery velvet blankets and smoke gray pillows.
“Why?” Lucian asks while rising to his full height after tucking my shoes under the bed. The power dynamic between us is always strung tight, but with him above me, looking down on me the way he is, it plucks at the tension, making it sing through my body with awareness.
“It’s softer than the other rooms,” I respond without outright asking if this is where he brings his hookups, but that feels wrong the moment I think it. There’s nothing soft about Lucian.
I glance over at Nox, who’s comfortably leaning against the massive headboard, and I wonder if maybe this isn’t his room for meeting his girlfriends. I don’t like that thought either, especially not the girlfriend part.
Being here with them isn’t smart. Lines made in permanent marker have already been crossed. At some point in the hospital—heck, maybe it was even before that—I became reliant on their attention and presence. I told myself it was okay because I was in a weakened state, but it was and still is an excuse.
“Are you sure there’s no other reason you’re asking, lamb? Like maybe you want it to be your room?” Lucian proves he can see through my lies, but there’s a little solace in the fact that he can’t read me completely. I give him a droll stare, neither confirming nor denying his claim, but trying to convey that his assumption is wrong all the same. “Well, it won’t be. As soon as your beautiful body is all healed up, you’ll be in our bed.”
I don’t know what catches me more off guard—the compliment, or the assumption that I would sleep with him. Actually, I know which is more surprising. I just don’t know if I can trust his flattery.
“You think very highly of yourself, pretty boy.”
He leers at me without shame. “So do you, but you can pretend you don’t. I’ll very much enjoy winning you over.”
“Ignore his need for attention, Nova, and relax. I’m sure this bed has to be more comfortable than that noisy blue mattress,” Nox cajoles, patting the bed next to him with his palm.
“I’ve slept on much worse. It’s you guys I feel bad for. That couch must have sucked.”
“It was better than the alternative.” He fluffs the pillows, and I crawl forward.
“Which was?” I question, slightly confused.
“Leaving you there alone.”
Nox’s comment makes me blush almost as much as Lucian’s crudeness, but the feeling of butterflies in my stomach is certainly more intense. “Thank you for staying with me,” I say softly, feeling vulnerable and grateful.
