Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1)

by Molly E. Lee

  The woman’s eyes lit up with hope as she gazed at the picture. “Those are my grandbabies.”

  I set the picture gently on her chest. “You keep them close while I try to get ahold of an ambulance, all right?”

  “My legs are tingling,” she said, “is that normal?” She gulped hard and her chest rose and fell faster than it had seconds before.

  I patted her shoulder and held my cell to my ear. Nothing but a repetitive beeping—either bad reception or busy circuits. I tried again without any luck and whipped my head around.

  “Dash!” I hollered across the distance. He jerked his head up from searching. I waved my arms at him and pointed toward the woman. “I can’t get through on my cell!” He hobbled as fast as he could down the road we’d come from. I was glad he knew I needed an ambulance without me shouting it in front of the already scared woman.

  I scanned the surrounding area until I spotted a half-crushed cardboard box a few feet away. I tiptoed to it, scooped it up, and hurried back to the woman. “Were you here all by yourself?” I asked while brushing some dirt out of the box. It was half-soaked, but it would have to do.

  “Just me and George. Thankfully I didn’t have my grandbabies this weekend.” A shudder ran through her, and I almost cried in relief when the action twitched her legs.

  “I’m going to put as many of these as I can find in this box, all right?” I said, holding up another picture frame. This one had a photo of what looked like a much younger version of the woman holding an infant.

  “Thank you,” she said, and George went to licking at her face again.

  I picked up as many frames as I could, scraping my hands slightly on the shards of glass scattered around. The action gave me something to do when I felt helpless. I wished Dash would get back with help faster. Putting the last picture I could find in the box with the others, I smiled at the woman with what I hoped was a reassuring look. “There. Now you don’t have to worry about them getting lost.”

  “Blake!” Dash yelled, and I snapped my eyes to him.

  He jogged—a kind of skip-like run that favored his good leg—toward me with two men on his heels, each one wore a light blue button-up and black pants. The two carried an orange gurney with thick black straps and large square zip-up bags hung over their shoulders.

  Dash touched my shoulder when he reached me, and I glanced down at the woman. “Help is here,” I said, and Dash and I took a step back to let the men do their work.

  After assessing her vitals, they strapped her to the portable gurney, all the while poor George whimpered and worried at her side. One of the EMTs looked up at Dash.

  “You think you could help us carry her back to the ambulance?” he asked, positioning himself on one side of the gurney.

  “Absolutely,” Dash answered without hesitation and no mention of his wounded leg.

  The EMT nodded and, once Dash had gotten his hands underneath the gurney, counted to three. They hefted her up and made it look easy.

  “George,” she called, and cut her eyes toward him since she couldn’t move her head.

  “I’ll bring him,” I said and lifted the box of pictures. “And these, too.”

  After we managed to get the woman, George, and her pictures to the safety of the ambulances stationed just outside the main road, Dash and I split up again and went right back to searching.

  As the hours passed, we found more and more people. Some crawled out of shelters unscathed and took up in the search for those who weren’t so lucky—using flashlights and lanterns and whatever else we could scrounge up. The people who could help did so without question, and an instant trust formed between us, a cosmic understanding that we were needed and could count on each other for anything.

  We didn’t stop until dawn broke the night sky. I stood next to Dash after helping a teenager find his mom where all the EMTs had set up. My feet screamed at me, my muscles seared, and my lungs threatened to burst from the constant running back and forth and lifting, but I still felt it wasn’t enough.

  I took a long gulp from the water bottle Dash offered me and watched as the sun broke through a section of puffy white stratocumulus clouds and shook my head as its rays shed new light on the wreckage the storm had left in its wake. Crumbled houses, broken support beams, and every manner of debris from teddy bears to boxes of cereal to sheets of house-siding wrapped around half crushed cars.

  And yet, in the middle of all of this chaos, were people.

  They stood in groups, comforting one another or walked out in teams to continue searching. EMTs bandaged up the wounded and medevac’d the seriously injured. Young children handed out water bottles and strangers wrapped blankets around shocked neighbors. The camaraderie was infectious and awe-inspiring. I never thought I’d see anything more devastatingly beautiful in all my life.

  John and Paul found us shortly after the sun had fully risen. The relief I felt was so strong it nearly robbed me of what little energy I had left.

  “We’ve been helping the other side of town, there is total damage over there,” John explained, wrapping me in a hug.

  Paul’s mouth dropped as he took in the scene. “You two all right?”

  I glanced at Dash and we both nodded. We were lucky. We’d been so close to the tornado and got off scott-free, where others hadn’t.

  “You got a joke for me, Paul?” I asked with a soft voice.

  “Not today,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re both all right. You look like hell though. Go get some rest. We’ll take your spots.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but John shook his head. “No arguing, Blake. You won’t be able to help anyone when your body starts to crash.”

  They were right. The adrenaline slowly left my body and a sinking sensation took its place. I’d never been more tired and yet the thought of going to sleep seemed selfish.

  “My truck is dead against a telephone pole,” Dash said, glancing at John. “Can we borrow the Tracker Jacker?”

  John instantly handed Dash the keys. “It’s parked a few blocks back that way,” he said, pointing behind a line of ambulances.

  “Thank you, guys,” Dash said. He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to the Tracker Jacker.

  John and Paul were already coordinating with a police officer before we’d even got the truck started. At least they weren’t losing numbers with us leaving.

  After about fifteen minutes, Dash pulled the truck off the road and onto a flat patch of grass just outside of a massive pasture. Tall green grass rolled in the light breeze and cows grazed a few miles away. The scene was so normal. The storm had left this area untouched and pristine when only miles away a town had been turned upside down.

  “Nearly the whole town is without power and I doubt the motel is even open. Almost everyone is out searching or clearing debris. Sorry,” Dash said and turned off the engine truck. “This is the best we have.”

  I shook my head. “It’s all right. I want to get back soon anyway.”

  He gave me a soft smile, and I noticed the purple bags under his eyes. I wondered if I looked as drained as he did. We’d been so lucky. He’d been hurt, but it could’ve been so much worse.

  He shifted his back against the driver’s side door and I scooted up so he could stretch his good leg out behind me. I leaned back against the seat once he’d gotten situated and tried not to think about how his shin dug into my back.

  Dash sucked his teeth and I glanced at him. He opened his arms and flicked one of his hands in a come-hither motion. My heart galloped and I swallowed hard as I moved to lay my head on his chest. His arms encased me instantly and I breathed him in, his scent rushing to each of my nerve endings and mending them.

  I absently traced my fingers over the back of his hand, my attention awakening when I felt a line of scuffed, newly healed skin. I turned my head to meet his eyes, darting them from his, to his hand, and back again.

  Dash sighed. “You don’t want to know.”

&nbs
p; “I already do, and again I’m sorry,” I said, remembering the fight Paul had mentioned. “Especially because that’s my fault, too.”

  “You’ve got to stop taking the blame for everything, woman.”

  I knew Dash was right. I’d learned more about myself in the past couple months than I had in years, thanks to him and the storms, but it was hard to let go of the responsibility for every bad thing Justin did after years of holding on to it.

  “I sought him out,” he explained.

  “The day after Hail got hurt?”

  He tensed for a moment before relaxing underneath me. “Yes. He won’t bother you again.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. You may have gotten to him before me, but I ended it with him for good. I wanted to handle it on my own.”

  “I know and for that I apologize. But I couldn’t think straight. I’d held you the entire night and listened to you whimper in your sleep. Every time you moved your shoulders, you cried out. And then Hail was hurting in the next room . . . I had to find him and make him pay for what he’d done.”

  A shudder ran through me. I hadn’t remembered crying out, but I did remember the pain and the overwhelming desire to dole out some of my own to Justin. I sighed, such drama I was so happy to be rid of. “I understand, but from now on, if I say I want to handle something on my own, let me, all right?”

  Dash ran his fingers through my hair. “Deal.”

  I relaxed against him.

  “It’s time for you to stop worrying,” he said and held me tighter.

  THE TORNADO TOOK three people when it left this earth and injured dozens of others. Despite the town’s efforts to prepare for it, the storm had surprised them with its sheer ferocity. Dash and I had stayed for three days helping with the cleanup and took damage measurements. During that time I learned the harsh reality of the true reason for chasing storms.

  Study.

  Not for the thrill. Not because reading weather maps and interpreting data came so naturally to me. Not for the awe factor and not because being so close to them made me feel complete.

  The incredibly close images Dash captured on film of the tornado’s mannerisms provided us with invaluable information regarding its habits, wind speeds, velocity, tenacity, and offered insight into its construction. Studying the data collected on each chase allowed us a better perspective into the tornado’s process from cloud to ground, and the more we understood about them, the better we could predict them, and hopefully prepare people more adequately, too.

  It had been a month since that devastating storm—I’d just gotten my car back from the shop after it had been thoroughly roughed up when we left it on that dirt road—and still reports aired on the news about the reconstruction of the town. It would take a long time to rebuild all that they’d lost and I wished we would’ve been able to do more, but we had to come home. We had classes and work and the world had to continue spinning.

  I looked at the sky outside of my window now and marveled at its gorgeous slate-gray. Radar predicted a light thunderstorm tonight, but nothing serious enough to merit a chase.

  Hail wiggled her butt furiously as my front door opened after a quick knock.

  “How are my girls?” Dash asked as he let himself in.

  Hail ran over to him so fast her lips flapped up and down. He knelt to pet her and had to dodge her massive tongue aiming for his face.

  How I looked at storms wasn’t the only thing that changed the night of the biggest tornado to hit in years. The morning I’d woken in Dash’s arms, in the terribly uncomfortable cab of the Tracker Jacker, I realized I was home. He was my safe haven. And despite that one night of sleep, Dash and I hadn’t spent the night together since.

  The pace didn’t bother me so much as the anticipation. If sex was anywhere near as much fun as kissing him, I knew I was in for a wickedly delicious treat, but he’d insisted from the get-go we take it slow. He wanted to show me how much he cared by waiting for the right moment, and all I wanted to do since he’d asked me to officially be his girlfriend was tie him to my bed.

  “Nice out, isn’t it?” I asked as he gave me a quick kiss.

  He glanced out my opened window. “Glad you think so. We’re going out.”

  I glanced down at my jeans and T-shirt combo. “Do I need to change?”

  “You’re perfect.” He kissed me again. Butterflies flapped in my stomach each time his lips met mine, and I knew I’d never tire of it. I shook my head, heat rushing to my cheeks. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the compliments, either.

  “Don’t think about arguing, woman,” he said and turned around, tugging me toward the door.

  “Please, you wouldn’t know what to do with me if I ever disagreed with you.” I followed him.

  Dash stopped short with his free hand on the doorknob. He craned his head around, flashing me a devious gaze. “Blake, you have no idea what I’d do to you if you did.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a bit if you wanted to punish me for it.” I arched an eyebrow at him.

  “You want to be punished?” He grabbed ahold of my butt with two strong hands and lifted me to his level with ease. My heart raced, pressed against him, and the intensity in his eyes nearly stopped it. He crushed his lips on mine, kissing me so deeply I forgot everything outside the boundaries of his mouth.

  He pulled away sooner than I wanted. “That’s me going easy on you.”

  Twenty-five minutes later Dash pulled his new truck—insurance had ruled his old one totaled—off onto a dirt road and parked underneath a huge oak tree near the lake. The tree’s branches stretched out over the calm water’s surface like they reached for something just outside their grasp. The sky was still a smooth gray and a soft breeze whispered through the air.

  “This is one of my favorite spots,” Dash said, hopping out of his truck and grabbing a stuffed duffle from behind his seat. “I sometimes bring my gear out here and plot our courses or do research in preparation. Somehow I can think clearer here than in the weather lab on campus.”

  I gazed at the lake. “I understand that.” The place was beautiful and secluded despite the openness of the area. The water stretched over a mile wide and more trees bordered the opposite side. Without any other cars or people around, it appeared to be a private and wonderfully untouched slice of land. No distractions other than the occasional chirp of a bird or the steady lull of crickets.

  Drawing my attention from the lake and back to Dash, I found him laying out the last of what looked like at least three huge blankets in the bed of his truck. He returned to the cab and came back with two Native Amber longnecks. I took the offered bottle and sat on the edge of the truck bed, the blankets offering a nice cushion.

  “I brought you out here to ask you something, Blake.”

  My eyes widened and I swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

  Dash raked his hands through his hair. “I know it’s a little soon in our relationship . . .”

  Holy shit. “What is it, Dash?”

  He sighed. “Would you like to come with me down Tornado Alley?”

  I let out my held breath in a gasp. “Of course!”

  A smile spread across his lips. “Are you sure? Because we’ve been incredibly lucky so far. This is our end of the season blitz. A three-week trip filled with a ton of driving—and usually more misses than catches. And you know the funds we have, so it’ll mostly be cheap motels and fast food.”

  “What about classes?” I asked.

  “As long as we do the make-up work and have it in by the end of the semester, the professors don’t care. They understand that there is only a small window of opportunity to catch these things.” Dash dropped his eyes for a moment before returning them to me. “You think you can stand me for three weeks straight? No breaks? I understand if you think it’s too soon—”

  “Stop it,” I cut him off, knowing full well I wouldn’t tire of him that easily. I doubted I ever would. The thought of sharing the same bed with Dash every night sent tremors roc
keting through my core. “I’d love to.”

  He clanked his bottle against mine. “Can’t wait,” he toasted and we each took a drink.

  I studied the label on the longneck.

  “What?” he asked after taking a swallow.

  “This was the first drink you ever bought me,” I said.

  He tilted his head.

  “That first night at Bailey’s.” That night seemed ages away instead of months. So much had changed. I had changed.

  “Right. The night you thought I was trying to pick you up.”

  Heat filled my cheeks at the memory. “Crazy, I know.”

  Dash focused his signature look on me—the one where he thought I was being ridiculous. He set his bottle down on the grass and took mine, too.

  He cupped my face and softly kissed the corner of my mouth, then the space underneath my jaw. He worked his way down my neck before returning to my lips. “Does that feel crazy to you?” he whispered.

  I let out the breath that had caught in my throat. “No, it feels ama—”

  Dash cut me off with his lips, crushing down on mine with a sweet force. He slipped his tongue in and gently massaged my own. My heart raced as I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

  He wound his fingers in my hair with one hand and held the small of my back with his other. He slowly navigated us further into the truck bed, laying me on my back without ever breaking our kiss. He hooked my leg around his hip and ran his hand up and down my thigh.

  The fire only Dash could ignite inside me flared to a roar and I shoved my hands underneath his shirt, tracing my fingers along his rigid abs before pulling his shirt off altogether. Lord, he was glorious to look at, and the gray sky that filled the backdrop made him look more like a Greek warrior than my storm-chaser boyfriend. He arched up enough to grab the ends of my top and slipped it over my head. I’d never been so glad I’d passed up my usual beige bra that morning for my black bra and panty set.

  His emerald eyes lit up like lightning when I reached around and unhooked it, letting it fall to the side. Butterflies flapped in my stomach and heat rushed to my cheeks—Dash had never seen me naked and there was no light switch to flip out here. I was completely exposed and yet, somehow, I felt a level of intimacy I’d never experienced before.