Chasing Chaos: A Novel (26 page)

Suddenly,
Daphne lost her temper. “Where’s the good, Greta?”

“I
know you’re thinking about what happened to me,” Greta said. “Don’t tell me
you’re not. But look, even good things came out of that. Lots of good things.
Look at where we are right now! We’re standing in Sandy’s driveway. Who could
have predicted that? Timmy and I own Rivet. We’re married. He wants to have
kids—good lord! So many good things came out of one awful night—things that
could never have been predicted, not by anyone.”

“But
you almost died.”

“But
I didn’t. Also, I think my condition was a little overblown, actually.”

“You
looked like shit.”

“I’m
not saying it didn’t hurt. But seriously, the concussion wasn’t that bad.”

“Dan
did die,” Daphne murmured.

“People
die sometimes,” Greta said. “Do you want to talk to Miranda about that and see
what she has to say?” Greta held out her hand.

“Oh
no. Let’s not do that right now,” Daphne said quickly. Miranda had seen a lot
of death for someone her age. Too much.

Daphne
stared at Greta’s hand. Finally, she took it, and together they began the long
climb up the driveway to Sandy’s front door.

Greta
opened the door, and Jodie and Foster trotted up and licked Daphne’s hand.
Seeing the dogs’ round brown eyes, she almost started crying again.

Then
she looked at her friends.

Sandy,
Marlon, Timmy and Miranda were sitting around the coffee table. Miranda had a
deck of cards in her hand. There was cash on the table.

“Miranda?”
Daphne asked, scandalized.

“We’re
playing spades. None of them knew how. Can you believe it?”

“Seriously?”
Daphne said. Behind her, she could hear Greta trying not to laugh.

“Well,
we had to do something. They were all making me crazy with their manly pacing,”
Miranda said. “God. Back and forth. Back and forth.”

“I
do not pace,” said Sandy.

“Correction.
Timmy and Marlon were doing manly pacing. Sandy was lurking.” Then she mumbled,
“Vast improvement, dude.”

Daphne
saw Sandy smile. It seemed Sandy liked Miranda, sharp tongue and all.

Marlon
rose, placing his hands on the back of his chair. He stared at her, hope on his
face.

Sandy
stood. “I’m exhausted. Lock up when you all leave, OK?” He headed into the
kitchen toward the master suite.

“We
have an annoying brunch to get ready for, Greta,” Timmy said. “We should get
home.”

“See
you in the morning?” Greta asked Daphne.

“I’ll
be there,” Daphne said.

“You
should all come,” Greta said to Miranda and Marlon. “It’ll make my dad extra
uncomfortable. Bring Sandy too.”

“I’m
heading home too,” Miranda said. “Well, to your home, Daph.” She pocketed her
winnings from the table. “John’s taking me car shopping tomorrow. I’m going to
have one last fling with this credit card.”

“How
are you getting home?” Daphne asked.

“We
can drop you,” Greta said.

“John’s
out in the driveway sitting in his car.”

Daphne
remembered the car she didn’t recognize out in the driveway. She thought of the
man waiting in the driver’s seat. John seemed more than willing to do what it
took to catch Miranda’s attention.

“Don’t
worry,” Miranda said to Daphne. “I’ll have him drop me at the corner.”

“Actually,”
Daphne said, “I don’t mind if he sees you home. It’s safer that way.”

Miranda
smiled then. “Message received.”

Timmy
and Greta left. Miranda left. And then Daphne was alone in the living room with
Marlon. He remained on the far side of his chair, keeping the furniture between
them. She felt like a great cat, and he the animal-tamer.

“What
happened tonight?” he asked.

“I
almost did a terrible thing,” she said. “But then I didn’t.”

“But
then you didn’t.”

“I
thought about doing it. Part of me wanted to do it.”

She
told him about the cliff, and about Jamison, and about how long she stared at his
back before running to her car.

“If
the cops didn’t find him, he’s probably still up there.” Marlon smiled. “No one
picks up random guys on Mulholland in the middle of the night. I feel
super-duper bad for him.”

“Poor
guy.” Daphne smiled too. “His feet are going to be really sore by the time he
walks to a pay phone.”

That’s
when Daphne noticed how badly her own feet were aching. She collapsed into a
chair and removed her booties. “Oh shit.” Spots of blood soaked through her
socks.

“Daphne.”
Marlon rounded the chair. “What happened to you?”

He
knelt in front of her, looking at her feet.

“I
didn’t have shoes on at the wreck. I didn’t notice I was hurt, not till after.”
She looked to the side.

“Not
till after what?”

“Not
till after Dan died.”

Marlon
reached out and wrapped his hands around her calves. He was watching her
carefully, waiting to see if she would protest, she figured. So she nodded,
giving him permission to touch her.

He
rolled her socks from her feet, revealing even bloodier bandages. He looked up
at her. “Jesus, Daphne.”

He
scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall toward the guest rooms.
They entered the room where Daphne had dressed with Greta for the wedding just
the day before. He set her on the edge of the bed. “Don’t move.”

He
disappeared into the bathroom, and she heard water start running in the tub.
Then he came back to her. “I’m getting the first aid kit from the kitchen.
Don’t move.”

“You
told me that already!” she yelled after him.

He
came back with a large, yellow toolbox and opened it on the bed next to her. He
extracted bandages, tape and scissors, placing each on the bed. He also had
damp, dark brown towels. Using the scissors, he snipped the bloody bandages
from her feet and tossed them in the trash. He blotted her feet with a towel,
removing a lot of the caked-on blood.

Then
he eyed her tight leather pants.

“I
don’t suppose you can roll those up,” he said.

“Nope.”

“We’ll
have to wrap a towel around your waist. Hang on.”

He
returned with a plush white bath towel from the bathroom.

“I
think I’ll need help getting out of these,” she said, gesturing at her
leather-clad legs. “Usually I use my feet to pull them off.”

Marlon
swallowed hard. She smiled.

“Here,
I’ll unzip them.” She leaned back on her elbows and unclipped the top of her
pants, pulling down the zipper. “Hand me the towel.” She took the towel from
him, draping it over her waist down to mid-thigh. “Now, you grab each ankle and
pull. And don’t worry. They’re supposed to be tight.”

Marlon
looked like he’d eaten a lemon. Daphne felt a small bit of delight.

He
knelt in front of her, gripping the ankle opening of one leg and slowly tugging
the pant leg down. Then he switched legs and did the same. He switched back and
forth, moving nearly in slow motion, until he’d worked the pants past her hips
and to her knees. Finally, he grabbed the waistband and pulled the pants the
rest of the way off. He held them in his hands for a moment before draping them
on a chair.

“Thank
you,” she said. “I wouldn’t have been able to do that and stay off my feet.”

“Stop
talking.” Marlon lifted her in his arms again. “I can barely think.”

Daphne
tucked her face in his neck and laughed.

Instead
of setting her on the cold edge of the bathtub like she’d expected him to do,
he held her in his lap while she soaked her feet in the warm, soapy water. She
leaned against his chest. The water turned pink as the blood rinsed off, and
the warmth soothed her. After a few minutes, he set her down on the closed
toilet lid and used another one of the brown towels to dry her feet. Then he
rewrapped each foot in a bandage. She watched the top of his head as he worked,
his brow wrinkled in concentration. She reached out and ran her fingers through
his hair.

“Carrie’s
mad at me too, you know,” she said.

“What
for?” He came to his feet.

“She
said you and I were conspiring not to allow her to make her own mistakes.”

“That
sounds about right.”

Daphne
felt the familiar feelings of guilt well up inside of her. Then she remembered
Greta’s lecture and shoved the feelings away.

No
more.

“You
weren’t a rebound.” She looked up at him from her seat on the closed toilet
lid.

“I
don’t blame you for what happened,” he said, kneeling in front of her. “At
all.”

“I
get it,” Daphne said. “When your worst nightmare comes true, you need someone
to blame it on. You and I both blamed me.”

He
picked her up in his arms again. This time, he put a small kiss on her lips.
Then he reentered the guest room and placed her on the bed. She lay back
against the pillows.

He
backed away from her, stopping once he reached the closed bedroom door. He
leaned against it. “You should stay here tonight. Sandy won’t mind of course.
In fact, he’d probably prefer it.”

“What
would you prefer?”

“What
would I prefer?” He smiled sadly. “Something I could not possibly ask of you.”

“Then
I’ll have to ask it of you.” She held out her hand to him.

“Daphne—after
how awful I acted?”

“You
were upset. I forgive you.”

He
crossed the room and sat by her on the bed. He caught the end of her towel
skirt with his fingertip.

“We’re
like the opposite sides of a coin,” he said. “You’re constantly afraid you’ll
hurt the people you care about, and I’m constantly afraid the people I care
about will be hurt.”

“Wise
observation.”

“What
a terrible way to live.” He shook his head.

“Also
wise.”

He
lay down behind her on the bed, putting his arm around her, pulling her close.
“Do you think we can change?”

“Greta
seems to think so,” Daphne said. “She wouldn’t call it change, so much, as
understanding what forces are acting in the background. I think I’ve figured
some things out.”

“This
car wreck was the first time since my mom died that anyone close to me has been
in danger. It was my first test. I think I failed.” He rested his chin on her
head.

“Really?”
Daphne said, placing her hands on his, pulling their bodies even closer
together. “We’re here, aren’t we? I’d say we passed.”

She
rolled to face him, putting her hand on his cheek.

“Sandy
says I’m in love with you.” Marlon tugged on her ponytail.

“Miranda
says I’m in love with you.”

At her
words, Marlon’s gray eyes darkened. “Miranda’s a little scary, but she is very
smart.”

“She’s
actually very scary, but you don’t know her well yet.”

“Yet?”

“I
think she’s going to move in with me, so you’ll being seeing more of her.”

“Daphne,
you make me want to buy a car.”

“Can
I come write on your deck?”

She
reached for him as he reached for her, their arms moving fast, her towel
falling away, their lips meeting hard. She could feel the calluses on his
fingertips as his hands reached under her sweater, and she never wanted to be
touched by smooth hands again.

This
book, like any book, could not have been written without the support of many
people.

Thank
you to my publisher, Velvet Morning Press, who believed enough in my first
book,
Entanglement
, to let me write a series.

Thank
you to my fellow authors and beta readers who read the drafts of this book:
Chris Adigun, Lisa Cooper Ellison, Lauren Faulkenberry, Jordynn Jack and Janet
Linger.

Thank
you to my supportive writing collective, the Tall Poppy Writers, and our
founder, Ann Garvin.

Thank
you to the local coffee shops that provide great spaces to write: La Vita
Dolce, Market Street Coffee, Jessee’s, and lately, Gray Squirrel Coffee
Company.

Thank
you to my parents, who have embraced my career as a writer with alacrity.

Thank
you to my husband, who never acts surprised when my attempts turn into
successes. And thank you to my kiddos, who let me read my favorite childhood
stories to them every night.

Katie
enjoys her three professions—novelist, freelance journalist, and lawyer—for one
reason: her love of the written word. Fiction or nonfiction, Katie thrives on
putting thoughts to paper and sharing them with the world. She lives in Chapel
Hill, North Carolina, where the energy of the campus and cafés inspires her to
keep writing.

Katie
hopes you enjoyed
Chasing Chaos
. If you did, please consider leaving a
review on
Amazon
. Even a few sentences can
help future readers decide to pick up the book.

Check
out the rest of the Entanglement series:

Entanglement
: Greta follows her best friend,
Daphne, to LA after college, and the complicated friendship puts Greta in the
path of a dangerous man. Can she survive? Forgive?

Love & Entropy
: A tension-filled weekend at a
lake house will change lives forever in this prequel to
Entanglement
.

For
more about Katie, check out
KatieRoseGuestPryal.com
. Or drop her a line at
[email protected]
.

Read
on for a sneak peek at
Entanglement
…