Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1)

by Molly E. Lee

  The energy inside the room was palpable, like someone had pumped vaporized Red Bull into the AC vents. John’s faux-hawk wasn’t as perfectly put together, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He and Paul were busy watching radar and tracking the storm. Dash worried over all the camera equipment.

  “Paul, tell me you didn’t forget the shutter trigger for the Olympus! If you forgot it again and we miss getting the lightning still-shots I’m going to ice you.”

  “Relax, bro, it’s in the other bag.” Paul glanced at me sideways once Dash turned his back. “You see the way he treats me?”

  I laughed and rocked back and forth on my heels near the doorway, too excited to sit down. Since I wasn’t a cool storm chaser with a special decked-out laptop I elected to watch the sky.

  It was slate-gray and moving. No funnel formations yet, but the dark clouds hung low and wide, and wisps of their structures swirled slowly as they migrated east. The rain hit a few minutes after we arrived and it plinked off the asphalt in tiny bursts. A few people got out of cars, dragging luggage to their rooms. A wave of icy fear crashed inside my chest and I whipped my head around.

  “It isn’t predicted to hit the town is it?”

  Each of them glanced up at me.

  “It shouldn’t,” John said. “Doppler is placing it farther east where there’s mostly farmland. But you know we can’t pinpoint it, Blake. It could happen.”

  My shoulders dropped. Of course it could. I glanced at Dash, who stared into the distance lost in thought. He knew all too well what a tornado could do to a town. I swallowed hard. Did he see the destruction and devastation from his past every time he went on a chase?

  I crossed the room and leaned over John’s shoulder, eyeing the satellite images he had pulled up on both his laptops.

  “Don’t worry, Blake,” John said, turning his head to look up at me. “I’m sure the news is on right now, warning people about this.”

  I sighed and nodded. He was right. Meteorologists would be showering the locals with information. The same data we were accessing now. Of course, they’d be warning people away from the storm as opposed to searching for ways to get in front of it.

  I pointed to the screen on John’s left, noting the surface map’s data. “The air pressure on this location is increasing along with the temperature. Keep an eye on this one. It looks prime to fire.” I returned to my spot in the doorway, eyes trained on the sky. I wrung my hands out, the anticipation coiling inside me like a spring.

  “This will help you relax,” Paul said, glancing at me over his opened laptop. “What does a meteorologist cry before she tees off?”

  I rolled my eyes. This was not the time for one of his jokes.

  “Fore-cast!” He dragged the punch line out without me baiting him.

  I laughed despite my efforts not to.

  Paul gave me a sincere smile and went back to staring at the laptop screen.

  “You were right!” John hollered. “The cell is about to fire. We need to head north on 75 if we want to get ahead of this thing.” He slammed his laptops shut.

  Suddenly the room was in a frenzy. Dash shoved the cameras and recorders inside their bags, and John slipped all the laptops into their cases. Each slung bags over their shoulders and scrambled toward the door. I quickly jumped out of the way.

  Dash stopped outside the door and turned to me. “Blake, we have to move!” He bounced on the balls of his feet.

  My heart surged with adrenaline and excitement fluttered inside my stomach. And if I was being totally honest, I couldn’t decide if the thrill was from the storm we were chasing or the look in Dash’s eyes.

  IF I’D THOUGHT Dash drove fast on the way here, I was totally wrong. He was now close to breaking the sound barrier and John was right on his tail in the Tracker Jacker. I gripped the handle above the window so hard my fingers ached.

  Dash had both hands on the steering wheel but continued to push himself over it to look up at the sky. Each time, his green eyes flashed with an unmistakable passion that made me feel like I was spying on an intimate moment between him and the clouds.

  Rain came down in sheets, slapping the windshield as if someone tossed giant buckets of water at us. Thunder roared above, so close it shook the truck. We sped past other cars and trucks that had parked on the side of the road. Several were from local news stations identified by the logos on their vehicles and others were chasers like us, cameras in hand and laptops sitting on the seats of their cars.

  “We’re pulling off soon,” Dash said into the walkie-talkie before glancing at me. “Stick close to me and follow my lead. I know you predicted this location, but this is bigger than the last two times. And if I tell you to get in the truck and drive, you do it. Understand?” He slowed the truck and took a turn down a rural road that ran next to a flatland of green pasture whose grass rolled in waves from the wind.

  “Yes.” I swallowed the rock in my throat, noticing that no other chasers had chosen this path.

  He pulled the truck to a stop on an even piece of grassy land off the road. Thick wooden posts lined the pasture, barbed wire snaking between them. The prickly wire trembled in the strong blasts of wind.

  Dash reached behind him and grabbed one of his video cameras. He fiddled with some complex buttons and the lens. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” I said, letting my breath out slowly.

  He tossed me a still-shot camera and hopped out of the truck. After getting the lens off and the strap around my neck, I jumped out, instantly soaked by the rain. John and Paul were already behind us, each holding their own cameras and pointing it toward a large wall cloud about six hundred yards to our right. I followed suit and snapped a series of shots.

  Outside of Dash’s video clips he’d posted on his site from past chases and other weather channel shots, it was the scariest wall cloud I’d ever seen. It stretched at least three hundred yards wide and hung so low to the ground I was sure it would touch down with a spinning tail any second. The dark gray color clashed with the smooth bright sky behind it, and the upward rotation quickly gained momentum.

  I stood close to Dash, thankful I’d worn my flat leather boots because the ground was squishy with grass and mud. Somehow Paul had thought it a brilliant idea to wear flip-flops, but he didn’t seem to notice his feet were caked with slimy dirt and water.

  “Look at that updraft! Can you believe it?” Dash hollered over the rain.

  I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off it since we arrived. “It’s going to come down any second!”

  Dash let out a whoop, and John and Paul screamed with him. They were like a pack of wolves howling at the moon. My heart raced and instinct told me to run in the opposite direction and take cover, but I fought the urge and let out a holler of my own. Dash locked eyes with me, and in that moment the world dropped away. Nothing else existed but me and him and the purely primal violence of the storm.

  The rain instantly died, grounding me firmly in the present. The abrupt silence nearly deafened me. I glanced at John and Paul, their clothes stuck to their bodies in a soaked mess. Their eyes locked with the formation before us, not even blinking.

  Dash held the same intense stare. His wet blue T-shirt clung to his carved stomach, outlining the defined ridges in his skin. Heat rippled through my body, and I shot down the image of me running my hands over his abs. I trembled but assured myself it was from the rain coating my skin.

  Sirens blared in the distance, a faint sound of warning. I hoped it was early enough for everyone to get to safety, and then I prayed the storm would stay out of populated areas. I realized, for the first time, how extremely close we were to it, and every nerve in my body sparked with ice.

  “Here it comes,” Dash said, his voice excited as he held the camera up.

  He was right.

  He was always right.

  A funnel cloud snaked downward and spiraled until it touched the ground, instantly transforming into easi
ly an F-2 tornado. The ground beneath the tip of its tail swirled in a brown dusty mess, turning the once grayish-white beast black. It roared and screeched louder than a freight train, the sound a kind of terrible awesome. Every inch of my body trembled, but I couldn’t pry my eyes away. The tornado mesmerized me, twisting and turning sporadically like a caged animal that had finally been freed.

  A magnetic force throbbed within me, and I stepped closer to the wired posts we stood outside of. Life had never been so clear or real as in that moment. I’d never been more in the present, been more aware of each sensation soaring throughout my body—fear, excitement, awe, and wonder. I watched one of God’s miraculous creations—a terrible and fascinating thing—and knew I was where I was meant to be. Storms had always been a part of my life, always filled me when I was hollow, but now they were in my blood.

  “Dash, Blake!” I heard John scream over the roar of the tornado. I turned to him. He stood halfway in the Tracker Jacker, Paul already buckled into the passenger seat. He waved at us with a hurried hand and then pointed to the tornado.

  It moved closer to us. How had I missed the change of direction?

  I tugged on Dash’s arm, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off it. “Dash, we have to go!”

  He held his position as if he couldn’t hear me.

  I whipped my head around. John swung his arm, beckoning me to hurry to his truck. I shook my head. I wouldn’t leave Dash. Paul yelled something at John. He gunned the Tracker Jacker a few seconds later, reversing onto the road before spinning it around in retreat.

  “Dash!” I screamed and yanked on him so hard the camera moved in his hand.

  He finally looked at me, his green eyes wild. “This is amazing!”

  “We need to move!”

  He glanced back at the tornado heading closer and closer to our location. He blinked a couple of times before he tossed me his keys. “You drive!”

  I caught them and we both turned toward the truck. A crack of lightning struck so close the hairs on my arms stood on end and a bang of thunder quickly followed. We jumped and I shrieked before finally making it inside the truck. I jerked the camera strap off my neck and gently set it down in the space next to me.

  Dash instantly rolled down his window as I hit the gas. I swung the truck around too fast and we fishtailed on the road.

  “Easy, woman!” he yelled but didn’t look at me. His eyes and camera were fixed on the big black spiraling snake cutting through the field. Dirt clods hovered around its base and the pressure from the wind threatened to take control of the truck. I floored it and didn’t let off the pedal until we were a couple of miles away. John and Paul had parked and were snapping still shots with their cameras. Dash jumped out of the truck before I could pull the emergency break.

  The tornado looked smaller from this distance but equally terrifying. I watched Dash stare it down like he wanted to wrestle with it, and a cold fear seeped into my bones when I thought about how long he would’ve stayed if I hadn’t yanked him away.

  Only ten minutes had passed since the tornado touched down, but it felt like hours. Slowly the end of its tail dissipated and the body shortly followed, fading upward in dark gray wisps until nothing was left but a broken nimbostratus cloud—a thick wet gray blanket covering the sky.

  Dash finally lowered his camera and capped the lens. A mischievous smile crossed his face and he ran at me.

  “What a monster!” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me so tight I could feel his rapid heartbeat against mine. I clung to him, too, relishing the sparks that ignited beneath my skin as he held me tight.

  We released each other after a few moments, and Dash whooped as he bumped fists with John and Paul. “We got wicked footage for the site. We need to upload it quick. John, did you call the local station and let them know we saw a confirmed tornado on the ground?”

  “Yeah, I got the call in right before it touched down.”

  “Nice!” Dash patted him on the back and handed the camera off to Paul who had his laptop open on the hood of the car.

  “What do you think, Meteorologist?” Paul asked.

  I jumped at the sound of his adopted nickname for me. My hands shook as I caught my breath, a new addiction dominating my senses. “When’s the next storm hitting?”

  Dash came over and high-fived me. “Yes! That’s my girl! I knew you could handle this.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. Dash never doubted me. The feeling was incredible but completely new. Justin had constantly told me I wouldn’t make it in this field because I didn’t have the instincts to handle myself under pressure.

  I replayed the storm in my head, and it was like a bolt of lightning hit me. I’d never felt more sure of my place in this world than I did in that moment. Dash and I were the same, pulsing with a calling in our blood to stand on the edge of chaos.

  He tugged on my hand. “Let’s head back to the motel. You can double check if you want, Blake, but Doppler isn’t predicting another one until early morning.”

  “I’m sure Doppler has it right, but thanks,” I said and sank into the passenger seat. Sharing this passion with Dash was effortless. I didn’t have to battle with him. He understood the feeling, the need. I gazed at him as he drove and another bolt hit me. Fuck. I was in love with him.

  No. No, no, no. My earlier revelation hadn’t eased up on the drive back to the motel.

  “You can have the first shower.” Dash interrupted my thoughts as we walked into the room.

  “Bro, are you serious?” Paul whined. “Just because she’s a girl?”

  “Because that’s the way it is. Learn how to be a gentleman.”

  “Like you’ve ever been a gentleman!”

  “Thanks,” I said softly, grabbing my bag and locking the bathroom door behind me.

  The shower was tiny and the hot water setting was more lukewarm, but I was grateful for the privacy. It gave me more time to get my head on straight.

  My eight-year relationship had just ended. I didn’t even know who I was outside of being Justin’s girlfriend. I could not already be falling for Dash. I groaned, raking my hands through my hair. Thinking back, I’d had feelings for him long before I’d like to admit, but now that I was free it was beyond clear. I couldn’t deny the heat or the sheer rightness of me and Dash. We just made sense.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head underneath the running water. None of that mattered, though. Our friendship did. As did the importance of the storm chasing group we were both a part of. But most of all, I couldn’t possibly think about another relationship right now. I needed to figure out my own heart before giving it away again, no matter how easy it would be to give to Dash. And besides the epiphany of my own feelings, it was clear Dash’s interest started and ended the night we’d kissed. I focused on that fact to keep my head straight.

  I turned the water off and patted dry with a towel that was a relative to sandpaper and slipped on some wonderfully dry and comfortable clothes. I hadn’t thought to bring a hair dryer so I pulled my wet hair into a ponytail.

  The room was empty except for Dash sprawled out on his back on the bed closest to the door. He’d changed into dry clothes, and the white T-shirt he wore was hiked up slightly, exposing a strip of his skin and defined abs.

  A rock lodged itself in my throat and my heart thumped erratically.

  “The guys went to grab food after the videos uploaded. You want to check them out while I shower?” he asked, sitting up and opening the laptop on the table.

  “Sure.” I gulped as images of nothing but water covering him burst involuntarily in my head. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I took a deep breath and sat heavily in the chair at the table. Dash leaned over me and clicked a few things on the screen. He smelled like rain and his skin was warm as his arm brushed the back of my neck. A spark rocketed through my middle and I bit my lip.

  “Here they are. We’ve already got a hundred hits.”

  “That’s awesome.”
I said, genuinely happy for him. I knew the more hits he got the more funds he received.

  “Yeah, we do all right, huh?” He straightened and walked toward the bathroom.

  “You really do,” I said as he shut the bathroom door. Maybe I’d feel better if I talked to him. Surely getting everything out in the air would make the situation much less dramatic. I shook my head and resisted the urge to slap myself.

  John and Paul returned a half hour later with burgers and fries from a local mom-and-pop shop down the road. The brown paper bags were half soaked in grease, but I’d never eaten a better burger. We talked over updrafts and rain-wrapped tornadoes between bites and rehashed the F-2 we’d watched.

  The footage Dash caught was incredible, as were most of his videos, and the up-close shots offered real perspective on the tendencies of a tornado, which were less erratic than one might think. As Dash put it, “there are patterns to everything, even chaos.”

  My nerves continued to fray as the night wore on. A constant battle raged inside me. In an attempt to squash the uncontrollable sensations that flared every time Dash spoke to me or even touched my hand softly, I drew upon the many reasons we couldn’t cross the line. Best friends. Colleagues. Me, with no clue how to be in a non-toxic relationship.

  “Blake,” Dash whispered.

  I raised my head from where I’d been pinching the bridge of my nose while seated at the table. The room was dark with only the silver light of the moon slipping in from the window and the neon green glow from the alarm clock lighting it. John and Paul had crashed on the bed closest to the bathroom sometime during my mental cold shower.

  Dash touched my shoulder and motioned toward the bed. “You take the bed.” He kept his voice hushed. “I can sleep in this chair.” He eyed the one I sat in, which wasn’t any better than a steel folding chair.