Chaos Read online

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Front Cover

  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

  © Copyright 2018

  Chaos by Janine Infante Bosco & JC Cliff

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Published by Janine Infante Bosco & JC Cliff, LLC

  Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design

  Model: Tessi Conquest and Robert Kelly

  Photographer: Reggie Deanching

  DEDICATION

  We’d like to begin by thanking you for taking a chance on our work. This is a first for both, JC Cliff and myself seeing as neither of us have ever co-authored a book before. In March of 2017 we collaborated at an author signing and decided we weren’t done working together.

  Chaos ensued both literally and figuratively and now, here we are ready to take you on a wild ride. The book takes place in New York, therefore there are slang terms used to keep the authenticity of the characters. The Riders of Chaos aren’t scholars, they are rough men and therefore, so are their words.

  We ask if you enjoy the book, to leave a short review and of course, we thank you for riding with us and the Riders of Chaos.

  See you on the other side,

  Janine Infante Bosco & JC Cliff

  FRONT COVER

  CHAPTER ONE

  There is something to be said about a woman once she’s had enough. When she wakes up one morning and decides she’s done living for someone else. Having to endure the hardships of being nothing more than someone’s trophy, she begins to realize respect, love, and loyalty aren’t just words, they’re a lifestyle. Suddenly, life becomes too short to leave the key to happiness in someone else’s hands, and something within her finally snaps. Painfully she realizes radical changes must be made in order for her to take charge of her own destiny. Once this courage is found, she becomes fearless.

  Drawing my lower lip between my teeth, I hold my breath as my finger hovers over the mouse on my laptop.

  Fearless.

  As I begin to recall how it felt when the life I once cherished was ripped out from beneath me, I blink away the thoughts and then force myself to push past the doubts holding me captive. Reaching deep inside of myself, I somehow find the glimmer of courage I need in order to keep moving forward with my plans.

  One click of the mouse.

  That’s all.

  One tap of my finger and I take control of another decision in my life. I take charge of the pen writing my story. I’m free to chase my dreams and discover who I am, what I want from life. I can start checking off the items that are on my bucket list without judgement or fear.

  With an over-dramatized show of finality, I press the enter button on the screen, thereby successfully placing my classified ad online.

  Releasing my lip, I let out the breath I’ve been holding and my mouth curves into a devious grin. It’s a small victory for a woman whose whole world crashed and burned only a year ago, but I’m just now beginning to pick up the broken pieces of my life and putting myself back together.

  Giddy with excitement, I fist pump the air as my best friend, Trish, shakes her head in admonishment. She thinks I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have. But for the first time in my life I don’t need anyone’s validation.

  “So this one might be a little unconventional,” I shrug, meeting her gaze.

  Mouth agape, she pushes back her chair and rolls her eyes. Trish’s disapproving expression is beyond obvious and her antics make me giggle. Lately I’ve been blindsiding her. She’s not used to this new me and the alternative lifestyle choices I’ve been making recently.

  Glancing around the semi-crowded coffee shop, she then leans in on her elbows and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial, heated whisper, “Seriously, Annmarie? I don’t even know you anymore. One minute you’re depressed, the next you’re giddy and placing an online ad for some stranger to help you check off an item on your bucket list.” She pauses in frustration. “You’re what? Thirty-three? For crying out loud. Unless you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal disease, I can’t fathom a reason as to why you’re doing any of this,” she hisses, then lets out an exasperated sigh. “You truly need to seek professional help,” she adds, her voice earnest.

  I burst out with laughter at her serious tone and grave expressions. Part of me feels bad for her. Being friends for over a decade, she’s used to the prim and proper version of Annmarie, and while I’m wholeheartedly embracing my newfound reckless side, it’s going to take some time for her to adjust.

  “What?” I ask my tone innocent, knowing I’m making her more anxious. Cocking my head to the side, I lift my index finger to my lips and stare at her thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I think you should take a walk on the wild side too,” I tease as I watch her perfect arched brow lift, contorting in such a way I know she’s feeling indignant. She gives her infamous look that says, Not in a million years.

  As I reach for my macchiato, I picture my friend straddling a motorcycle and a series of chuckles burst forth. Stealing a glance at her from over the rim of my cup, I almost choke on my coffee. Dressed in designer clothes, accessorized in cultured pearls, Trish wouldn’t be caught dead on the back of a bike. High society is all we’ve ever known. Windswept hair and leather jackets is something we never had the inclination for.

  “Okay, now I know you’ve officially lost your mind,” Trish says, pointing her manicured finger at me. “I can see the headlines now, ‘Thirty-three-year-old woman disappears, her body found a week later slain in the woods somewhere.’”

  “Pfft…” I scoff.

  Waving a hand, I dismiss the absurdity of her comment.

  “I’m far past my prime. No one is going to kidnap me. I’m not the young and naïve girl I used to be,” I remind her, placing my coffee down. “I’ve got a little age on me now.”

  “Seriously, Annmarie,” she says with another roll of her eyes. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I know ten men off the top of my head who’d love to have you.”

  The idea of having to put myself out there again, into the dating pool, terrifies me. Having been with the same man for ten years, I never had to worry about anything. Learning to be comfortable in my own skin is one thing, but having to be self-confident with another man when all I’ve ever known was Dean? Well, that’s another story.

  “No, thanks, I’m done with relationships,” I tell her bitterly. Besides, the men she’s probably referring to
are from the exact same mold as my ex-husband. I’ve had my fair share of overbearing, controlling, and domineering. Every time I look back, it makes me sick to think about how he always presided over me like a child, forcing me to portray myself as the perfect little wife.

  I was young and impressionable when I first met Dean. He was nine years older than me and took advantage of my naivety. He had me believing the universe revolved around him. I thought his age and experience made him king, but I was fooled.

  When I first met Dean he was mesmerizing, persuasive, mysterious, handsome, and attractive. To this day he holds all those attributes, but back then he masterfully manipulated me with painful precision, and I wasn’t even aware of it. In truth, I never stood a chance against all his charms. He sucked me in to his little world of deception without so much as blinking an eye. Dean was more than well off, and used that wealth to his advantage, guaranteeing me not only a comfortable future, but a loving marriage also.

  He promised me the world on a silver platter.

  Everything I ever wanted was placed in front of me, but it wasn’t the tangible items I was after because my aspirations went much deeper than that. They were things that couldn’t be bought. Unfortunately, it took me years to finally see through the murky waters of deception.

  I woke up one fateful morning and discovered every one of Dean’s promises were a lie. Everything came to a head. The years of being repressed by a controlling bastard and having him knock my self-esteem down to nothing—it all finally took its toll on me, and I reached my breaking point.

  So now here I am, daring myself to step away from all the safety nets, the norms of what was once considered my life and venture out into the unknown.

  Thinking about this, my face grows serious as I try once again to make Trish understand my quest for independence.

  “I want to breathe in the freedom,” I say in a dramatic fashion, spreading my arms out wide. “I have this insatiable desire to take a walk on the wild side and feel the wind in my hair.”

  “God, help her,” she mumbles, dropping her head in exasperation into her hands. Peering at me from between her fingers, she asks, “You’re really going to find a male escort to be your concert companion.”

  “Who owns a motorcycle,” I interject, dropping the earnest expression and replacing it with a carefree smile. Seeming to finally accept my decision, Trish let’s out a disparaging sigh and closes my laptop with a final clack.

  “A complete stranger who will take you to a concert on his motorcycle,” she adds for good measure.

  Smirking, I enthusiastically give her a nod.

  “I don’t know any biker who would be able to pass up VIP tickets to 3 Doors Down and Matchbox 20, in exchange for toting my ass around.”

  “That’s the point!” she exclaims. “You don’t know any bikers! You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. For the love of God, have you watched any biker shows? They’re criminals! Outlaws!” she shrieks. Lifting her eyes to the ceiling, she makes the sign of the cross and prays for my saneness to return.

  To be fair, I don’t expect an actual biker, one who actually lives the lifestyle full-time, to answer the ad, but surely there are some respectable men who own a bike who wouldn’t mind taking me to a concert?

  I’m thinking the kind of man who rides for recreation purposes only will answer the ad. Someone who likes to take off on weekends as a hobby after working in the corporate world during the week. Not the kind of business man who likes to sip bourbon at a stuffy country club somewhere.

  I’m not sure I could handle an actual biker, someone who lives to break the law. I’m on a quest to reclaim my life, not end it. In fact, it’s the very reason I took a few extra measures, hoping I’d prevent any creeps from answering the ad.

  “I did say I would run a background check,” I add, placating her.

  She scoffs at the tidbit I thought would quell her anxiety. “Do you not understand most bikers aren’t on the straight and narrow? They’re masters at breaking the law and manipulating credentials. You will get zilch information from a name and a driver’s license.” Irritated, she blows out a melodramatic breath before she continues, “Please explain to me again why you’re choosing a complete stranger with a motorcycle to escort you anywhere?” she asks, her voice rising with each question. “Help me understand what in God’s name is the fascination there?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit ruefully, shrugging. “Maybe I’ve always had this repressed need for reckless adventure cooped up inside of me. I’m just now trying to find myself, but what I do know is that I’ve always wanted to ride on a motorcycle.” I lean back and let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s be honest, Trish, where would that have ever fit into my life with Dean? He might as well have kept me locked away in a sound proof room with the way he treated me.”

  Dean would’ve never allowed me to do such a thing, much less dream about it. I can tell Trish is finally beginning to understand, because her shoulders slacken and if I’m not mistaken, I detect a little empathy in her eyes.

  “It’s the first item on my bucket list to conquer,” I remind her. She may not be able to make sense of my choices, nor agree with them, but Trish is one of the few people in my life who has always been there for me. She’s never turned her back on me in my hour of need. She just hasn’t had to stand behind my bat-shit crazy ideas before.

  Still, she’s my soul sister.

  Hesitations and worry aside, we both know she’s not going to stand in the way of watching me explore life. She knows I need this.

  “There’s just something so fascinating about a sexy man controlling a piece of machinery between his legs,” I say with a wink. “It screams alpha, it demands attention, and let’s not forget how tempting and hot a man looks speeding down the road on one of those chrome-laden bikes.”

  “I give up,” she says, sounding exhausted. “You win.” A piece of her long jet-black hair falls over her right eye as it always does, and she tucks it behind her ear for the umpteenth time this morning. Even though she’s given in, it doesn’t stop her from lecturing me. “However, I’m telling you right now, you are asking for nothing but trouble.” With her hands firmly planted on the small round table, she leans forward, inching her nose into my personal space. “For someone so smart, you can be so foolish. Most men who ride on motorcycles are adrenaline junkies. They’re crass, blow snot-rockets anywhere they please, and they piss on the side of the road.” Okay, so maybe she’s not exactly ready to see me fly like a little bird leaving the nest.

  I act appalled and gasp as my hand covers my heart. “Pissing on the side of the road?” I repeat, incredulous at her assessment. “Now that’s a real law breaker there. You’re right, maybe I should reconsider this.”

  “Annmarie, I’m serious. This isn’t funny!”

  Unable to contain my laughter, my shoulders shake as I try to speak through my giggles. “When you gotta go, you gotta go. Hell, I’d be lying if I wasn’t envious of a man who could take a piss on the side of the road any time he pleased. Those lucky bastards, they don’t have to worry about getting poison ivy on their ass, and have you seen the gas station bathrooms lately?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

  She slinks back into her chair and huffs, giving me that look as if to say I’m daft. Crossing her arms over her chest, she keeps the tone of her voice insistent and conclusive as she responds, “You’ve gone certifiably crazy. There’s no other explanation for it. If I didn’t know your age, I’d think you were going through a midlife crisis.”

  “I am not having a midlife crisis, Trish,” I defend, my tone harsh.

  “Well, you’re going through something, and if this is how your new life is going to go? God help us all. I think I’m going to need to stock up on anti-anxiety medicine just to watch you go through it,” she says as she rubs the sides of her temples.

  “Trish, really? I’ve never been saner than I am right at this very minute. I’m grabbing life by the balls and hol
ding on tight,” I point out, using language I’ve never been allowed to use before. For extra emphasis, I curl my hand, pretending to have a set of a balls squished in my fist.

  “Any woman willing to let a complete stranger—mind you, one they’ve obtained from an ad they placed online—is crazy.”

  “Look, I really appreciate your concern—hell, I love you for it—but I’m doing this with or without anyone’s approval. I promise you, I’ll be careful. I know you think I’m acting out of sorts, but I assure you, I’m not being negligent. I’ve made a new email account specifically for this adventure. Anyone who responds to the ad has to send a copy of both their motorcycle and driver’s license, a recent picture, plus answer a bunch of questions about themselves,” I tell her, counting off my fingers as I recite each detail.

  “Which could all be lies,” Trish interjects.

  “That’s where your husband comes in. You’ll ask him to run a check on their license number and see if they have a criminal background, or any moving violations.”

  Being the captain of the city’s police department, Trish’s husband can get his hands on anything. Fluttering my lashes, I silently plead for her help. A deep exhale of surrender leaves her lungs.

  “Fine,” she says after a moment. “I’ll have Garrett run a complete background check, and while he’s at it, I’ll make sure your applicant isn’t a wanted fugitive.”

  Ignoring her jab, I squeal in delight as I watch her full lips press into a thin line. Not happy, she shakes her head in annoyance, but as I stated before, she’s always supported me. She certainly won’t leave me stranded now. Not after the shit time I’ve had discovering my husband’s indiscretions, and then the fall out that followed after.

  It’s amazing how in the blink of an eye a person’s whole world can change. I thought I knew my husband, but in reality I knew nothing about him at all. I only knew the lies he told and the ones I discovered, and nothing more. I spent the last decade of my life loving stranger.