An Act of Release: Order & Chaos Book 2 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Samantha Wolfe

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Coming soon...

  An Act of Release

  Order & Chaos Book 2

  By

  Samantha Wolfe

  Copyright © 2016 Samantha Wolfe

  All rights reserved.

  Books by Samantha Wolfe

  Beautifully Broken Trilogy

  Let Me Love You:Beautifully Broken Book 1

  Let Me Save You:Beautifully Broken Book 2

  Let Me Heal You:Beautifully Broken Book 3

  Breathless Trilogy

  You Are My Air: Breathless Book 1

  You Are My Love: Breathless Book 2

  You Are My Life: Breathless Book 3

  Order & Chaos Trilogy

  An Act of Restraint: Order & Chaos Book 1

  An Act of Release: Order & Chaos Book 2

  An Act of Redemption: Order & Chaos Book 3 (December 2016)

  "I with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me innocent or naïve, who has the courage to treat me like a woman."

  -Anais Nin

  Chapter 1

  Ford

  "You're a sick fuck, and you're no better than Carter."

  Jenny's cruel words were a hot blade of pure agony that pierced my heart. I'd never felt anything like it. The only thing that came close, was the day three years ago when my father returned from out of town early, and walked in on me and the submissive that I had bound when I was temporarily staying at his house. He had that same disgusted look on his face that Jenny did right now. He asked me why anyone would do such a sick thing, and even though I tried to explain that it was consensual, he never looked at me the same after that. My relationship with my father was never the same either. The similarities between Jen and Dad's words weren't lost on me. And then to compare me to her ex-boyfriend who fucked her over emotionally and basically raped her? I thought she accepted all of me. I thought she might even love me, but I'd been wrong, so very wrong. I didn't know that I could hurt so fucking badly.

  My eyes suddenly felt hot, like I might actually cry, but I'd be fucking damned if I let that happen as I stood in front of her in the parking lot of this horrid nightclub. I fought it down, my body trembling with the effort as I fisted my hands at my sides. I stared at Jen, her sapphire eyes blazing with fury, and I was just fucking done with this, with all of it. I'd never let her or anyone else do this to me again.

  "Fuck this, and fuck you." I barely recognized the low snarl that came out of me. "We're done." I turned and walked away, mumbling, "and fuck everyone else," under my breath. I stormed across the club's parking lot, seething and breaking inside all at once. A moment later, I heard Jen calling to me, but ignored it. I had to get out of here. I didn't want to look at her ever again, and I never wanted to feel like I was dying inside like this again either.

  "Ford!" she called out pleadingly. She was right behind me as I opened the driver's side door of my old black Ford pickup. Holy fucking hell, there was no avoiding her now. I turned to see her standing there with a desperate and apologetic expression.

  "I fucked up." She held up her phone. "Tori borrowed my phone and sent this to you. She...she lied to me. I'm sorry. I should have talked to you first."

  I glared at her wordlessly. It was too little, too fucking late. She just assumed the worst of me, and didn't even bother to ask me what really happened. And if she was friends with the likes of that bitch, Tori, who acted like a whore and hit on her best friend's boyfriend, then Jen couldn't be much better. I was usually so good at reading people, but apparently, I'd been way off the mark with Jenny. I fell in love with a heartless bitch who thought I was a sick fucked-up freak. Never again.

  "Please don't go. I'm sorry." Her voice was broken and imploring. She reached out to me, and I glanced down at her outstretched hands for a second. I felt an inexplicable tug in her direction, my heart still yearning for her, even after she just destroyed me. How fucked up was that? I closed that part of me off, shoving it down deep and hardening my heart against this horrid woman.

  "So am I," I told Jenny bitingly, then wrenched my eyes away from her and got into my truck. I started the engine and drove off without another glance her way.

  I drove aimlessly around for a while after that, not caring where I was going at all. Eventually, I ended up at The Hole in the Wall, a local dive bar I frequented, and sat down at the bar alone. I was pleased that the place was pretty dead for a Friday night. I eyed my friend Justin, who bartended here and who's hulking frame dwarfed even mine, and asked for a single-malt scotch neat. I watched his dark eyes widen in surprise.

  I didn't usually drink hard liquor, but if it was good enough to help my Dad deal with my mother while they were still married, then it was good enough for me. I wanted to get obliterated and forget the last few weeks ever happened. Justin plunked a lowball glass on the bar in front of me, and poured Johnny Walker Blue into it, giving me a concerned expression.

  "What?" I snapped at him with a hard stare. "Can't I drink a damn scotch once in a while?"

  Justin startled at my tone. "Sorry, man," he growled out indignantly. "I've just never seen you drink anything but beer."

  "Well, tonight I'm drinking fucking scotch," I snarled, then drained half the glass, the smooth liquor going down easy, burning in my stomach pleasantly. Fuck, yes. "And keep them coming," I added testily.

  "Fine," Justin said defensively and stepped away to take another drink order.

  I drained the rest in short order, then nodded my thanks when Justin refilled it wordlessly, even if he still looked miffed with me. I didn't give a shit. Everyone else could go to hell as far as I was concerned. I drank and drank, and drank some more, until the room was blurry and spinning, and Justin finally tried to call an end to my overindulgence by refusing to serve me anymore.

  "Fuck you!" I snarled in response, my voice slurring distinctly now. "I can fucking drink more if I want to."

  "Well, you're not going to do it here anymore," Justin replied angrily as he crossed his massive tattooed arms over his chest.

  "Then I'll find some other fucking bar that will."

  "I'm not letting you drive like this," Justin said with an exasperated tone. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Ford?"

  "I'll tell you what's fucking wrong," I growled. "Love is a goddamn fucking joke. Jenny can go to fucking hell, and so can you." I rose from my barstool and started staggering toward the entrance. I shoved past a couple as they entered, not even giving a shit, and stumbled down the sidewalk to my truck.

  "Ford!" I heard Justin bellow out my name as he followed me. I spun to face him. "I can't let you drive like this." He held a hand out toward me. "Give me your damn keys, I'll take you home myself." He sounded calm and reasonable, and for some reason, it enraged me. I flipped him the bird and turned to unlock my truck door.

  "Goddamn it, Ford," he snarled and grabbed my arm. Without thinking, I whirled around and threw a punch at the asshole. How dare he try to stop me? Somehow, I landed a glancing blow to Justin's jaw, and all it managed to do was piss him off. His face instantly hardened like granite, and his eyes blazed with rage. Oh, shit. The next thing I knew he was pulling his fist back, and as if in sl
ow motion, I watched it come straight at my face. I was too drunk even to try to dodge it. His heavy blow connected with my face, sending me to the ground in an instant, and then the world went black.

  **********

  I let out a long agonized groan as I woke up. Holy hell, I felt like shit. My head was pounding, and so was my face. My stomach churned with nausea. I opened my eyes and stared at my coffee table in confusion. Why wasn't I in my damn bed? I lifted my head, putting my hand in the puddle of drool I'd left on the couch cushion. I was lying on my stomach on my sofa in my living room, with no memory of how the hell I got here. I spied a piece of paper on the coffee table and snatched it up as I moved to sit up on the couch to read it.

  Dear Dickhead,

  You're welcome for driving your sorry drunk ass home. I have your truck. You can have it back when you pay your bar tab. And if you ever punch me again, I will permanently rearrange that pretty-boy face of yours, until your own mother doesn't even recognize you.

  Love,

  Justin

  I punched Justin? Why the fuck would I do that? I put the note down and rubbed at my face, trying to wake up. I flinched when I touched the left side of my face. A hazy image of Justin's fist coming at me suddenly popped into my head. I tentatively prodded at my left cheek. It was swollen and painful, but nothing serious. I'd suffered a lot worse back in the day when brawling was a frequent occurrence in my life. I was fortunate. Justin could have really hurt me if he wanted to.

  Then I was hit hard by the memory of what happened last night. Jenny. She accused me of hitting on her best friend, Tori. She just assumed I'd done it without even asking me. The truth was that her friend hit on me, and turned into a raging bitch when I rejected her. That I could have gotten over, but then she said something unforgivable. I could clearly see that look of disgust on her face in my mind. I could feel the bite of her words when she called me a sick fuck. A deep penetrating ache knifed through my chest, almost taking my breath away. I buried my face in my hands, heedless of my sore cheek, and suffered through it. I didn't know I could feel like this. I didn't know that another person could hurt me like this. It figures that it took me thirty-three years to fall in love, just to have my heart crushed to a pulp. If I knew love could do this, I never would have gone out looking for it in the first place.

  Anguish fell over me, and my eyes started to sting. Not again. I was a grown-ass man, and I didn't fucking cry, so I latched onto a different emotion, one I used to be well acquainted with. Anger. I let it well up inside me and rush through me in a wave, pushing the pain aside and hardening my heart. Fuck Jenny, and fuck the whole goddamn world.

  The anger and despair coalesced into an almost unbearable urge to start breaking things. I wanted to take it out on everything around me. I wanted everything to match my broken heart. I stood, my chest heaving as I eyed my living room, trying to decide what to go after first.

  Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on my apartment door. It made my head throb even more. Annoyance flared to life inside me. I clenched my fists. Who the fuck was that?

  "Ford!" Angel's voice called out from the other side of the door. What the hell did she want? I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now, but I went to the door anyway. Maybe I could get rid of her quickly, so I could get back to deciding what to break first.

  "What?" I seethed out angrily as I flung the door open, my jaw clenched tight. Angel stood there with wide startled eyes as she shrank back from me a little.

  "Are...are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

  "I was before you started pounding on my goddamn door," I replied irritably, my head pounding away inside my skull like a fucking bass drum now. "What do you want?"

  "It's past eleven-thirty, Ford," she answered with concern. "You didn't come down to the shop, and I was worried about you."

  "Fuck," I blurted out. The damn tattoo shop opened at eleven. I didn't want to fucking deal with it. I couldn't stomach the thought of dealing with anyone today. "Can't you guys function for one fucking minute without me having to constantly babysit you?" I snarled out at her. If I pissed her off, maybe she'd just go away.

  Anger flashed across her face, and I thought it worked. However, her expression quickly turned to worry. Angel knew me too well. She knew how I got when I was really upset about something. I tended to lash out at everyone and everything around me.

  "What's wrong, Ford?" she asked softly, her eyes narrowing at me. "What happened?" The troubled expression on her face broke through the anger, and made the pain flare up again. The urge to cry hit me once more. No, no, no, that wasn't happening. I latched onto the rage again desperately.

  "I have a fucking hangover, and I want to be left the hell alone," I growled at her. "That's what's wrong."

  "What about your clients?" she asked in exasperation. "You have appointments today."

  "Fucking cancel them," I replied condescendingly.

  "But-"

  "Go back downstairs and do your goddamn job," I cut her off sharply. "That's what I fucking pay you to do."

  A wounded expression flowed across Angel's face, not the anger that I was trying to incite. I watched wordlessly as her eyes filled with tears, and she turned to hurry down the steps away from my door with a soft sob. I was too lost in nursing my own wounds to muster up any guilt for how I had just treated my best friend. Maybe I really was a sick fuck, in more ways than one.

  I slammed the door, and stalked to my room with a throbbing head and a churning stomach, intent on collapsing onto my bed to sleep off the rest of this god-awful hangover. I jerked to a halt in the doorway, and stared at my bed as unwanted memories of the night before last surged to life inside me. I could clearly see Jenny's gorgeous body in my ropes. I could still feel her soft tight warmth as my bare cock pressed into her. I could feel the love that had filled me up and burst out of me when I couldn't hold it in anymore. I finally told her I loved her. She didn't respond then, and didn't say a word about it the next morning. I assumed she either didn't hear me, or wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet. Now I knew better. I gave her all of me, and laid myself bare to her. I shared things that I'd never told another soul. How could I have been so stupid? She never loved me at all.

  I laid down fully clothed on the bed, breathing in the lingering scent of Jenny and our passion, knowing it had all been a lie, yet still missing her like a pathetic fool. I threw my arm across my eyes to block out the light as I tried to ignore the tears that leaked from my eyes to stream down onto the pillow. I laid there for what felt like hours before I finally managed to fall asleep.

  **********

  I didn't leave the house the rest of the weekend. I didn't do or care about a damn thing. I didn't want to see another human being, let alone talk to anyone. I ignored every text and call on my phone, until I got fed up and turned it off. I only answered the door when I actually remembered to eat and was expecting a food delivery. The apartment was a mess with empty food containers, and I wasn't much better.

  I vacillated between rage and despair, one minute so pissed off that I wanted to break shit and punch holes through the drywall, the next staring sullenly off into space as I wallowed in my pain. I was lost and adrift, and couldn't break myself out of it. Nothing in my entire life prepared me for this. Nothing in my entire life hurt me like this. Jenny wrecked me, ripped me to shreds, and I'd never be the same again. Long gone was my fanciful misguided desire to find love, replaced now with the thick heavy walls that I built around my heart so this would never happen to me again.

  Late Monday morning, I woke to my pain again. I stared blankly up at the ceiling, wishing I could stay asleep all day and forget about reality and the shambles of my heart. Thankfully, Apex Ink was closed on Monday, and I didn't have to deal with people or work again until tomorrow.

  Suddenly, I heard faint clicking sounds echo through the silent apartment as my front door was unlocked and opened. "Ford?!" a familiar female voice called out with concern. I let out a heavy sigh, but said
nothing. I guess it was too much to hope that I could have been left alone for another day.

  "Hey," the voice said quietly from my bedroom doorway a moment later. I glanced in that direction to see my sister standing there with a worried expression. Natalie must have used the spare key to my apartment that she had for emergencies. I suppose from her point of view, that her brother being incommunicado for two days constituted one. I suspected that Angel called her to narc on me.

  "What?" I grumbled out irritably as I sat up. I had every intention of being civil with my sister, but I failed miserably when I opened my mouth.

  "Are you okay?" she asked with concern as she stepped further into my room. She eyed me up and down, and crinkled her nose in distaste as she got closer. I was still wearing the food stained T-shirt and sweats I'd worn for the last two days. I showered on Saturday, but hadn't bothered since. I was alone and who gave a shit.

  "I was fine until you showed up." I crossed my arms defensively. "Let me guess. Angel sent you."

  "You've been hiding in here for days. You're ignoring your phone. What was she supposed to do?" She looked cross now, her green eyes narrowing at me.

  "How about leaving me the fuck alone?" I growled, knowing I was acting like a dick, but doing it anyway. "I'm a grown-ass man. I don't need to be fucking checked on when I need some damn time to myself."

  "Ford!" she snapped back. "Stop acting like an asshole. What the fuck is going on with you?" Now her eyes were flashing fire as her temper rose.

  "Nothing," I snarled petulantly. If I started talking about it, I was afraid I'd end up crying. I'd be damned if I did that again. I hadn't cried since I was a kid, and it was emasculating enough when it happened while I was alone the last two days. I didn't want a damn witness to my weakness. I'd rather be angry.

  "We both know that's utter bullshit, Ford." She crossed her arms stubbornly. "Now spill it," she commanded sternly.