Chaos & Love, page 1
part #1 of Blood and Iron Warriors Series





Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Preface
Dedication
August
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
September
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
October
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
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
November
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Stay up to date
Preview of Pain and Redemption
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chaos & Love
Blood and Iron Warriors: Book 1
Universe 1
Kat Kenyon
Copyright 2019 by Katrina Kenyon
Blood and Iron Entertainment, LLC
2718 Walter Road
Westlake, Ohio 44145
www.KatKenyon.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2019
ISBN 978-1-7329701-0-6
Editing by: Taryn Lawson
Proofing by: Marla Selkow Esposito
Cover by: Shanoff Designs
Formatting by: Shanoff Designs
Logo by: Shanoff Designs
Photography by: Shelly Duncan Photography
Preface
Love can heal the soul.
It doesn't mean simple or easy, and it isn't a walk down a darkened hall with an end--it's being willing to walk through a dense forest, where the darkness can be cold and scary, knowing every step into the dappled light and bright meadows make everything moment worth it.
Love is an adventure, not an end.
Please be aware that this book contains adult content suitable for people over eighteen. There are topics such as abuse, violence, sex, and high stress situations in this book.
This is Book One in a planned series about the same couple. Book Two and Three will be out by July 2019.
Dedication
This has been a stupidly long journey. From the experiences and ideas that appeared in my head, to the long wait to get to publication. Through all of my trauma/drama, hubby as been with me. Another adventure-- you're still my favorite.
Thank you!
August
Chapter One
Rayne Mathews
“Get out, ya ungrateful bitch!”
Nice Emily.
That’s typical fare for my mother. She’ll yell, cuss, throw things, get violent, get high, pass out, then expect me to fix whatever made her spiral before she wakes up. Normally I do, just to shut her up, but after seventeen years, I’ve done my time. She’s on her own.
Soon, I won’t be here to take care of her or be a punching bag. In a few months, I’ll be eighteen and I’ll make sure she has no say in my life ever again. Because Emily is quicksand.
She drags me down, and I can’t breathe.
Everything that means something to me is already in my car. If I leave it behind, she’ll destroy it. Emily is destructively neglectful on her best day. Either by accident or malice, the minute she realizes I’m not coming back, she’ll hurt me. It’s what she does.
So, when I wake up my final morning in her house, I don’t say a word, I just grab my keys and look around my room for the last time.
It looks bare without everything in it. A tiny off-white room, in a tiny off-white house, on the edge of a great town in Southern California, and as hard as I try, I can’t find any happy memories made here.
Even on my last night, she brought home a new bottle of vodka for her and her groping boyfriend, Jim, along with enough meth to leave them both useless. Hell, I would have been grateful if they’d gotten lit and passed out, but instead he got drunk and made a pass at me, complete with aggression and vile promises.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve fled down the hallway with him chasing me, Emily screeching out of her mind, demanding to know what’s going on. While they fought about “how disrespectful” I am, I had to lock and bar my door.
She never believes me, he’d never admit it, and I wasn’t going to stop and explain.
His efforts to get past my pathetic barricades were always an invasion of what little personal space my room provided, driven by the drug-induced courage and some disgusting inner monologue, and Emily always blames me. She doesn’t care what he does, only that he’s ignoring her, which is always my fault.
Knowing sleep was pointless, not knowing if he would show up like the creeping menace he is, I focused on morning. What little sleep descended was in fits and fades, complete with the paralyzing terrors that are now a part of me. And when the sun came, it was a rebirth like nothing I can explain.
If I had anyone to explain it to.
When I finally left my room with the last of my bags, evidence of a night spent fighting littered the floor. Broken glass, cigarettes, a tipped-over pizza box, and a disgusting stain I don’t want to name were just the first things I saw.
Normally, this is when I would clean, fix it for her, but instead, I grabbed the last banana and was leaving as Emily came out of the bathroom.
So, she threw a fit, because apparently, I’m such a bitch. And I don’t care. I’m leaving my mess of a house and my mess of a life to start a new one.
I’m gone.
I’m lucky. I earned a full ride and have a double major to focus on. I worked my ass off, and while I’m a little sad I’ve got no one to share this life with, I’m not sad enough to be sad.
Flying down the freeway with my music up in the summer sun, I allow the heat to sink in, burning away the perma-frost of my life. I sing along, and by the time I hit campus, I’m happy. Truly happy. After years of fighting to survive her house, I earned this. I belong here.
I’m free.
• • • •
I’m moving in early to start my work-study at California University’s Dixon Athletic Center, home of the Blood and Iron Warriors. The best of the best in the country train here and I will too, but that’s not why I’m working at Dixon. When I applied for work-study, this job started earliest, which works great for me because I’m here almost two weeks before the start of the semester.
As I pull up to my dorm, my cheeks burn from the strain.
The building is a beautiful older giant sitting back from the narrow road, with perfectly manicured grass, flowers, and soaring palm trees.
The whole campus is a mix of classic old brick, Spanish stucco, and modern aesthetic with detailed landscaping. It’s decorated right now with people everywhere, and I can’t imagine being here during the crush of general admission. Today, the last half of the athletes are arriving for training, their hot bodies all over the sidewalks, all over the streets.
“Holy hell,” I mutter under my breath.
Four of the most beautiful male specimens I’ve ever seen walk in front of my parked car. The blistering Southern California heat has driven them to strip down to loose shorts. It’s an intimidating sight. They’re over six feet tall, muscled, and looking in my direction as I get out of the car.
“Movin’ in to Kinsington, doll?” the tallest of the four asks. He’s a smokin’ brunette, and he cuffs the nearest one, who’s chuckling and grinning, on the back of the head. The others look younger and are whispering amongst themselves as he introduces himself as Brent, a junior on the football team.
“Yeah.”
“Bay, you’re there too, right?” He points at the massive golden blond at the end, who grins, raises his hand, and introduces himself as Baylor.
“Aren’t all cheerleaders supposed to be at practice? My girl’s on the team and they’re sticklers for that shit.” Brent laughs as he tries to quiet the guys, who keep up the choking and coughing commentary.
“What makes you assume I’m a cheerleader?”
“Too hot to be anything else,”
Oh, okay, now I know the game.
“Well, thanks, I think, but nope. Dancer.”
“Serious?” Bay’s coughed comment drags my attention to him as his eyes widen, and he gives me a long look up and down.
So typical.
“No shit!” someone says.
“Are you flexible?” Bay laughs. He knows it sounds bad, but instead of finding it rude, I think it’s funny.
“Does that mean you can—” another brunette starts to ask.
Bay smacks him in the chest, saying under his breath, “Wyatt, look at her legs, I guarantee she can.”
“Seriously, jackass, I can hear you.” I can tell he means it in good fun and it makes me laugh.
“What’s your name?” Bay asks.
“Rayne.”
He smiles victoriously as he and his fellow players scan me like fresh meat, even Brent rolls his eyes as he tries to rein them in, but they’re Division 1-A football players, so any control or shame would be surprising.
An out-of-control jock is one reason I chose this university. My past mistake is at UCLA, and I came here to start fresh without him or Emily. I’m not letting anyone from my past ruin this for me.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I need to get my parking pass, meet my new supervisor…all that stuff, so if you’ll excuse me?” I smile at the wall of eye candy and walk away.
Damn if that isn’t a nice start.
• • • •
Meeting my resident advisor is my first goal.
Michael Kinnerk greets me with a smile, a stack of papers, and my keys.
He’s around five-ten with midnight-black skin, long black dreads, and gorgeous full-sleeve tattoos that I didn’t get a good peek at. He’s also a former MLB player. Really. He blew out his rotator cuff after a year and a half, and although he’s still young and healthy, his shoulder is too damaged to play. Now, he’s finishing his last year of a physical therapy degree and watching out for a dorm full of insane young athletes.
My second goal is to get settled, and it takes most of the day. After I get my stuff moved in, I order pizza and start tearing everything out.
Kinsington Hall is up for demolition and the school is allowing us to do whatever we want with our rooms. We have private bedrooms and bathrooms, and share small kitchenettes and living rooms, just like a micro apartment. The drawback: we don’t have gyms or media centers like the new dorms…Like I care.
I’m a reno girl, if there ever was one, and since Emily has always been useless, I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was nine and I don’t wait for anyone. I love the freedom of it, and I laugh when I find Mr. Super-Fine RA, leaning on my doorjamb.
“Did you order extra pizza?” he asks.
“I did. I needed it in case there were hands available to bribe.”
“I have hands and you did all the heavy lifting. What’s next?”
“Painting.”
“Painting? You aren’t supposed to be doing that,” he says, shaking his head.
“Where does it say that? The color in here is depressing. I bought low-fume shit, it’ll be fine. Besides, my roommate isn’t here for two days. Come on Kinnerk…pizza!” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Hell, I’ll pay for beer.”
Kinnerk is hot, with a sense of humor, because he laughs at my lame flirting. He has to have one, since he’s playing RA to a bunch of over-stimulated athletes.
“I’ll help you paint, but I can buy my own damn alcohol.” He smiles and walks down the hall raising his hand, barking, “I’m getting my adult beverage, and you better have damn good tunes on when I get back.”
And he’s true to his word. He spends the night helping me paint three drab, off-white walls a soft gray, then put on a wash, making them silver. The one behind the spot where my bed goes, we paint lavender, and the ceiling and concrete floor are painted white. It looks amazing. Even he looks impressed.
“Give me one more day and I’ll blow your mind.” I smirk, looking up at him.
“You think?”
“Baby, I know,” I say, with all the attitude I can muster.
“Well then, dove,” he says, approaching my ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It’d be hot, except he starts laughing. We’ve spent the night with the athlete residents of the dorm coming in and out asking him questions, listening to music, and him bashing my lack of solid, old-school rap.
It may be one of the best nights I’ve ever had.
• • • •
I wake up happy.
This room will be my sanctuary until they tear down the building.
I need to send Anne a thank you. This wouldn’t be possible without her.
Emily will never show her face here, and I don’t want her to. As for my dad, I’ve never seen him. He’s a bastard and abandoned Emily before she gave birth. He pays support of some sort, but I’ve never seen it. I’m pretty sure she’s slamming it.
I’ve seen my paternal grandfather twice, but he doesn’t play a role in my life either. He doesn’t want to have contact. I’m a dirty secret for the Mathews family. He’s made that abundantly clear, making Anne my point person.
She’s my paternal grandfather’s secretary and she’s responsible for ensuring the error of my existence is kept as far away from the family as possible. She also takes care of everything I need and makes sure I have no reason to go to the media.
As if I ever would.
She’s been a lifeline during some really dark years. She covers things like the house we lived in, my car, dance classes and trips, extras, all with money from Gramps. God, he’d hate that name.
Stuck up asshat!
But she used his money to put me in one of the best school districts I could have asked for, so…
I’m responsible for college, but Anne sent “college starter” money. With it, I bought my new room, starting with a convertible couch. It’s not one of those crappy fold outs or futons; it converts to a real queen-sized bed with different angles. It even has storage underneath. It’s seven feet long and gorgeous.
I love it.
I’ve mounted a thirty-two-inch TV wireless modem, speakers, shelves, and a drop-down wall desk. I splurged on a mini-fridge, a new laptop, and new decorations…She literally paid for a new home for me to breathe in.
I’ve got my work-study at Dixon to keep me solvent, but it couldn’t give me this. Anne was generous with his money and there’s some left over, just like when she bought my Mustang, so I’m starting well into the black, and able to face the school year without the constant fear of how I’ll survive.
Thanks, Anne.
It’s two in the afternoon when I realize I’ve blown my morning. Cleaning the room again, I fly through a shower because I start work today and I’m nasty. But, as I look around, this space is the most peaceful place I’ve ever known. I’m seventeen and this is the best it’s been. Throwing my hair into a high ponytail, I grab my phone, my keys, and my sunglasses.
I’m brand new.
Chapter Two
Tyler Blackman
“Fuck yeah!”
Sore as hell and we aren’t done yet.
But that’s what I do!
I walk off the field as part of the Blood and Iron. I’m a Warrior. There isn’t a better team anywhere; this is as good as it gets. Even if the coaches are using summer camp to kill us, I love every minute.
I’m gonna die happy playing. I knew I’d make the team! I didn’t go to a big football high school, but I’m good and I’m dedicated. I earned this. Despite my dad’s interference, I showed up for try-outs in the spring and killed it!
I wanted to be a wide receiver, and at six foot four and two hundred forty pounds of solid muscle, I’ll be the biggest in the conference. I’m bigger than anyone except the linemen, but I’m fast as shit off the line and on the split…Hell, I’m faster than everyone. I stay conditioned on distance running, and I’m a beast in the weight room.
I’m an anomaly.
I played it smart and knew when I chose CU that they were weak at this position. They only have one good receiver due to injuries and the receiver they have, Lark Wilson, is heading to the Combine.
I have a marketable skill, they had a need, and even as a walk-on, I won.