Page 22 of Centering Kaos

Handing my car keys off to Tap, I slid the strap of my purse down my arm and set it on the table, opening it wide. “Do your worst.”

Tap took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. Relief flooded his eyes, and he gave me a wide, genuine smile. Like Kaos, this man obviously cared what happened to me and my son, and was being considerate and careful of not only my physical safety but also my emotional comfort. The realization stung my eyes and formed a lump in my throat. They might look a little scary, being big, tatted bikers and all, but these were the good guys, and I’d somehow been lucky enough to find them.

After thoroughly scanning my purse and pocketing my keys, Tap gave Elenore a reassuring smile. “I promise you we will protect them. And you. Now, let’s talk about your security.”

Tap and Elenore were deep in negotiations about alarm systems and cameras when the guys returned. My sister stood and hugged me and Dylan goodbye as Rabbit sat in my abandoned seat at the table. I didn’t miss the way he checked Elenore out as she returned her attention to Tap. My strait-laced sister had an inked-up biker admirer. Now that was interesting.

“You ready to go?” Kaos asked, leaning against the doorframe.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Dylan surprised me by sliding his hand into mine and tugging me past Kaos and toward the door. “It’s gonna be okay, Mom.”

Tears flooded my eyes. Hoping he was right, I blinked them back and let myself be led into our new reality.

* * *

Kaos lived in Northeast Seattle, at the end of a private road, positioned on a hill and surrounded by evergreens. It was almost fully dark by the time we arrived, but bright interior lights illuminated giant windows. The modern, boxy, black and grey exterior was elegant and unique. Stunning. I’d never seen anything like it.

“Whoa, you live here?” Dylan asked, his face pressed against the window and his eyes wide as we idled on the stone driveway.

“Yep.” Kaos tugged a set of keys out of his pocket, and the garage door opened, revealing enough space for two cars beside a shiny black Escalade.

I had started out the drive feeling like a nervous wreck, but Kaos had kept me and Dylan talking, slowly draining the tension from our situation with his easy-going nature and incredible sense of humor. We hadn’t really chatted about anything important—just the city, its attractions, and our favorite foods—but the conversation was nice. Relaxing. Despite his massive size, striking good looks, and history as an NHL player, he was a modest, easy-to-talk-to, down-to-earth guy.

“It looks like someone stacked a bunch of giant boxes on top of each other and added windows,” Dylan said, still eyeballing the house as we rolled into the garage and parked. “But in a good way. This is a cool house.”

Kaos turned toward me, his eyes wide with mock wonder and his smile infectious. “Did I really just get a compliment from the ruthlessly blunt Dylan Parker?”

Having worked my butt off for one of those elusive compliments myself, I fully understood Kaos’s sarcastic wonder. Unable to help myself, I laughed. “It is a beautiful home, but his compliments are a little terrifying, am I right?”

“Feels like winning the lottery but knowing it’s gonna change your tax bracket and you’ll have to pay back more than you won.”

He was so funny, direct, and dead-on correct. “Yes. That’s it exactly.”

“Are you guys talking about me?” Dylan asked.

I shook my head no, but Kaos answered truthfully, “Of course. Who else would we be talking about?”

Dylan seemed too distracted to care. He hurried out of the car, stopping to gape at the Escalade we’d parked beside. “Nice ride! Why do you even have this ugly old car? You should have picked us up in that one.”

“Dylan!” I snapped, embarrassed by his rudeness.

Kaos chuckled. “Annnd he’s back.” He closed his door and patted the roof of the ugly old car in question. “This is a loaner from the club. My Escalade was here, and I couldn’t very well fit you and your mom on the back of my Harley.”

Dylan’s eyes widened as he spun around in circles, searching. “You have a Harley? Where is it?”

“At the club. I’ll pick it up tomorrow when I drop off the Jetta.”

“Will you take me for a ride?”

My heart leapt out of my chest as images of motorcycle crashes flashed through my mind, “No,” I said firmly.

“Come on, Mom,” Dylan whined.

Kaos popped the Jetta’s trunk. “Don’t give your mom a hard time. She makes the rules. Help me take the luggage in so I can show you your room.”

Surprisingly enough, Dylan let the matter drop and joined Kaos. I flashed the man a grateful smile, and he nodded back. I rounded the car to help them with the luggage, but Kaos waved me off, insisting they had it under control. I followed him inside with Dylan behind me.

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