GOD OF CHAOS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JEREMY VOLKOV

Jeremy hadn't anticipated finding himself here. It didn't even register as he turned his bike around and headed for the Elites mansion. It was as if he had switched off his brain, now merely chasing the shadow left behind by Landon. After ensuring Niko was okay and trusting Killian and Gareth to handle him, something drew him towards Landon. Landon appeared disoriented, as if something inside him had snapped, and the meticulously crafted façade he presented had crumbled.

Was it solely because Nikolai glanced in Brandon's direction? Was that truly it?

His thoughts drifted back to their encounter in the locker room. Their faces mere inches apart, breaths mingling. Jeremy had taken the initiative when he had said, "Finish what you started, King."

"Not interested," Landon had curtly replied, pushing Jeremy away and striding past him as if the past month hadn't occurred. A strange sensation twisted in Jeremy's stomach. Landon had always been one to provoke, to instigate, seeking some reaction from Jeremy. This abrupt coldness felt unsettling to him.

Nevertheless, Jeremy had allowed Landon to leave. Any sane person might assume that would mark the conclusion of their personal vendetta, especially considering Landon had presented Jeremy with an exit that he had fervently sought. However, Jeremy was never one to be sane, regardless of his public perception.

Perhaps Landon's influence was seeping into him. Jeremy perched on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the door, anticipating its imminent opening and the arrival of the enigma that had driven him to infiltrate the Elites' mansion twice in less than two months.

As if on cue, the doorknob rattled, and the door creaked open. Landon stumbled in, his steps marred by a noticeable limp. Jeremy sprang to his feet. "Are you okay?"

Landon's head snapped up, surprise briefly flickering across his face. Yet, in the next moment, he composed himself, straightening his back and advancing further into the room, his limp becoming less noticeable, almost imperceptible. Jeremy narrowed his eyes. This man was obsessive about maintaining his pristine image.

"This is the second time you've broken into my room, Volkov. I don't appreciate it," Landon remarked slowly as he approached his bed.

Jeremy scrutinized his movements intently. The cuts on Landon's cheeks and jaw were now crimson streaks of dried blood, while bruising was starting to manifest beneath his right eye and around his lips. Clad in a white t-shirt that hugged his chest and a pair of blue jeans, Landon covered the extent of his injuries, though Jeremy was certain they were present underneath the fabric. "Where's your first aid kit?"

Landon met Jeremy's gaze with an inscrutable expression, no hint of emotion behind his deep-set eyes. He reached down, grasping the hem of his shirt and peeling it off. Jeremy maintained his focus on Landon's face. "Are you here to tend to my wounds? I'm touched."

Jeremy clenched his jaw. "You need to drop that attitude."

"Or what?" Landon challenged. Jeremy felt his muscles tense with anger, resisting the urge to strike him. Landon King was undoubtedly the most infuriating man he had ever encountered. And that was saying something considering he lived with Killian and Nikolai.

"Landon," he warned, his voice terse. "Sit down and tell me where the first aid kit is."

"No can do," Landon replied with a yawn. "I'm going to take a shower, and you're more than welcome to get the fuck out of here before I'm finished."

Jeremy reached his breaking point. With a surge of frustration, he shoved Landon forcefully, causing him to stumble backward onto the bed. Landon let out a grunt as his back collided with the mattress. "Stay down. I'll find it myself."