bound by chaos

4. Nikolai

I'm fucking losing my mind.

I stand in the alleyway, staring at the black screen of Brandon's phone, now lying motionless on the pavement. My heart is a drum, pounding erratically, each beat a sharp jab of panic and anger.

How did this happen? The universe had been so aligned, everything perfect, and now-now I'm standing here, feeling like a fucking fool. A cold, icy rage begins to seep into my bones, spreading like a wildfire, consuming every bit of rational thought. My hand leans on the wall, holding me up, my knuckles white and trembling. My breaths come in ragged bursts, each exhale a violent shudder of frustration.

Brandon's phone. His fucking phone. It's here, abandoned like a piece of trash, and I am paralyzed. He was here. All this time, was fucking right here, right where I was and I-

That voice I had heard was not a mere hallucination. It was my Lotus Flower, scared and alone, calling for me and I had just left. Left him all alone.

"Fucking shit!" I roar, my voice echoing through the empty alleyway. The sound of my fury ricochets off the walls. My hands shake as I clench and unclench them, fighting the urge to destroy something-anything-to release the torrent of rage boiling inside me.

I am hyperventilating now, the anger morphing into deep, gnawing regret. Regret for not being there sooner, for not sensing something was wrong, for believing that everything was fine when clearly, it wasn't. I slam my fist against the wall of the store, the sharp sting of pain grounding me momentarily, but it does nothing to quell the storm inside.

Why did I let my guard down? Why did I assume that the night would go as planned, that Brandon would be waiting for me with that soft smile and those warm eyes? I should have known better. I should have been more vigilant. I should have helped me. I should have answered his call for help.

Someone is calling my name, yelling to be more precise but I hear it all like I'm underwater.

The regret is a gnawing beast in my chest, its claws digging deeper with every thought. If anything happens to him, it's on me. I feel it acutely now-every misstep, every single second I drove away from him while he needed me.

I wasn't there for him, I wasn't there-

Pain-sharp and sudden, cuts through my whirlwind of thoughts. My head whips to the side from the sheer force of that punch. This motherfucker.

"Why the fuck did you not see or hear him? You were here. Why couldn't you fucking stop him, you useless waste of bloody space!" Landon flashes me with his psychotic glare, then raises his arm to throw another punch to my face.

I catch his hand easily blocking the punch, "You're right, I couldn't. I didn't see it coming." My voice chokes from both my pain and anger. "But I don't give a fuck about you or your opinions, Landon. The only one who can be mad at me is him. Not you or anyone else."

He snarls at me, but Eli manages to push him back. But no matter how much I hate the prick, he's right. If I hadn't just left, if I had just followed that sound, if I had just fucking looked, none of this would've happened. But it did.

But it did and now here I am standing at god's door, begging him not to take away my Bran. He is the very reason I'm sane. And if I lose him, if I fucking lose him, I lose my sanity, my will to live.

Landon pulls back from me, his face full of anger but also an underlying fear. I have never seen Landon King this scared before. We're both terrified of the same thing: losing Brandon.

Eli is saying something to Landon, trying to calm him down, but all I can hear is the deafening silence that follows a disaster. My head throbs where Landon's punch landed, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional storm inside me. I look down at Brandon's phone again, its dark screen reflecting nothing but the void in my heart.

I turn the phone on, only to see my own texting glaring back at me like reminder of my failure.

I bend down, my hands trembling as I pick up the phone. My mind races, replaying the last time I saw him. His smile, that damn smile that could light up the darkest room, and now...where is he? My grip tightens around the phone, and I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat.

"What do we do now?" Eli's voice breaks through the fog, and I look up at him, my vision blurred with unshed tears.

"We find him," I say, my voice hoarse but determined. "We find him, and we bring him back."

Landon's face contorts with a mix of rage and desperation. "You better fucking hope we do," he hisses, his voice low and dangerous. "Because if we don't..."

I don't let him finish. I can't afford to think about that. I push past him, shoving the phone into my pocket as I stride out of the alleyway, my mind laser-focused on one thing: finding Brandon.

My phone rings in my hand. I carefully put Bran's phone into my pocket before picking up the call.

"Did you find anything?"

I release a shaky breath, my insides lurching. "His phone"

Soon after I had walked out of mansion with Landon, I had called my dad, breaking apart, hyperventilating. I had told him everything about me and Brandon. What had happened. How I wanted the people who had taken Brandon from me fucking torn to pieces and burned.

And his dad had only said, "Then that is what will happen"

He had jumped on his private plane while I had been talking to him and had said he would make arrangements with his godfather to find the people who dared to take what belonged to him.

"Just landed, son. It'll take me approximately an hour to get to North West London."

"Give me an address, Dad. I need the address." I had said, my agitation evident in my voice.

"Listen to me, Nikolai. I know you're agitated. I can hear it in your voice, and it's okay to feel like that, but you will not make a reckless mistake that will get you arrested. I told you if we're doing this, we're doing it my way."

I had run a frustrated hand over my face. "I can't wait anymore. I need to find him, dad. I need to"

"Nikolai. Think of Brandon, okay? Think of how he'll feel when we find him and you are being arrested for murder right when you get to him? He will be scared already."

"Fuck!" I had driven my fist against a wall and had ignored the pain that had exploded in my knuckles.

"The UK is different from the States," he had continued in a collected tone. "It's smaller and more contained, so there's no room for mistakes. Tell me you understand that."

"Just get here, Dad. Please, hurry."

"I'll be there in fifty-three minutes. I'll forward you the coordinates as soon as I get them. Let's meet there."

And that had been fifty minutes ago.

And right now, I'm waiting for him to just fucking tell me where my Brandon is.

"Tell me where he is, fucking tell me" I breath into the phone, clutching the phone so hard that I'm surprised it does not break.

"I have sent the coordinates, Nikolai. I will see you there"

These words fuel something that had died hours ago the moment I had realised Brandon was missing. It fires into life, making me burn alive with it.

My feet moves on their own as I rush to my bike without caring for anything but Brandon. The moment I'm ready to leave, a hand lands on my shoulder, and I whip my head around to find Landon staring at me with harsh eyes. "Whatever you're doing, I want in."