Havoc

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Shifters’ Den

Chaos

I tipped the chair backwards and crossed my feet on top of the desk in front of me. I stared at the new office. It was disgusting. Large and obstinate, the whole room reeked out ‘power’ and ‘alpha.’ The sleek and modern design was no way Logan’s taste. He either had a coordinator or the Oakland twins design the room. I would place a large sum of money on the Oakland sisters being the designers.

I brought the chair back onto all fours with a loud bang, not caring about the sound; no one was around to hear me. I plucked the phone off the receiver and dialed a number. As the phone rang, I flipped through Logan’s phone directory, looking for more numbers to call. The phone was in mid ring when a sleep weary voice filled the line, “’ello?”

“Hi! This is Chantel Curtis, from Maternity Wardrobe. I have a rush order for a Mrs. Kelly? I was wondering if I could speak to her?” I altered my voice slightly, sounding more like a happy-go-lucky cheerleader than my normal sarcastic tone.

“Hold on.” The voice replied. Voices mumbled in the background and then the sounds of the phone being transferred, before a feminine voice said, “This is Mrs. Kelly.”

The sound of her voice was soothing. I closed my eyes in a silent pray that she was alive and unaffected by the bombs. I took a moment too long, because Jill irritably said, “Hello? Are you there?”

I cleared my voice and answered, “Of course I’m here Jill. Where would I have gone?” A taunt silence of tension filtered through the line. Before Jill could say anything, I quickly stated, “Be careful with how you reply Jill. You don’t want to alert Bryce to who you are truly talking to, do you? Unless, of course, you believe that I bomb the Den like everyone else believe.”

I couldn’t successfully keep out the tinge of fear and pain out of my voice. I didn’t know what I would do if Jill, the one person, besides Old Mama and Berto, I trusted. If she of all people didn’t know for a fact that I didn’t bomb the Den, then there was no hope of ever reveling myself to the Shifters.

“Of course, I understand the dilemma. Give me a moment and I will go and double check my order.” I let out a sigh of relief. Jill didn’t hang up on me—that had to be a good sign. Another sign was that she didn’t tell Bryce who was on the phone. I crossed my fingers, not ready to trust her reactions just yet.

After several moments of silence, Jill returned to the phone, “What the hell took you so long to call me? Do you know how worry I have been? How stressed?” Jill’s voice cracked in the middle of her sentence and the ending came out in a whimper. I shoved aside the feelings and put myself in ‘Chaos’ mode.

“You shouldn’t have worried about me Jill. You know by now I always turn up sooner or later. I just had more things to do and I needed to stay out of the lime light before I could resurface. I still might not be able to walk about without worrying. A lot of hate is circulating about me. ‘Cause you know, I bombed the Den and everything.”

I was cut off by Jill’s unlady-like snort. “Yeah and I am the artist of the David sculpture. Pull your head out of your ass, Chaos, the position doesn’t suit you.”

“And so it seems, neither doesn’t being pregnant?” I asked with humor.

“No, pregnancy does not suit me. I am fatter than a whale. My feet are swollen and I’m always hungry.”

I laughed and added, “And grouchy too.”

Jill snapped, “You’d be grouchy if you couldn’t touch your own feet or sit still for no longer than five minutes. But this phone call isn’t about me. It is about you, Chaos. Where the hell are you? Are you okay? Where have you been?”