Page 46 of Property of Chaos

I flex my hands and fist them repeatedly, shaking my arms out every so often. “Perfect.” Just a whole fuckload of adrenalin using my goddamn veins like a hydro slide, but you know, great.

“You don’t have to come.”

I roll my head to face her as we take the corner toward the small regional airport. “I need to.”

Whatever goes down today, there’s no denying that it’ll shape the trajectory for the rest of my life. Whether Mom is alive or passed, it doesn’t change the fact thatheexpects me to front up to settle affairs.

This is simply the appetizer for the main show.

At the rate my heart beats, I’m unsure if I’ll survive seeing him.

“Should I stay in the car?” I muse as the high fences of the airstrip come into view. “Or come in with you when you collect her?”

“She said she’ll wait out front for me, so I don’t think it matters.” Marianna drums her lithe fingers atop the steering wheel. “To be honest, once she sees you, there’s no real need for me to open my mouth. I’ll be pretty much redundant by that stage.”

She has a point. “Thank you.” I stare out the side window and swallow the threatening emotions as Marianna slows for the access road. “For helping me with this.”

She’s quiet long enough that I turn my head as the engine growl dies down, the car slowing for the terminal drive-through.

“Babe, I need to be real.” Her gaze scours the distant pavement. “You’ve told me a little bit about life before Temperance. Like, I know this asshole was your stepfather and that your mom seemingly accepted that you were gone without putting up much of a fight. But you’ve held a lot back.” She peeks across at me. “I don’t know what he did to you. And I never felt the need to ask because that was your shit, you know? Asking you to tell me is like driving slowly past a car wreck and hoping for a glimpse at the carnage—it’s nothing but a morbid fascination, hearing about a person’s trauma uninvited. But…” She draws a deep breath as we veer into the slip road alongside the terminal exit. “You two are undoubtedly about to talk about some of that stuff, so if you don’t want me to hear… If you don’t want me to know…”

Not so long ago, I would have jumped at the out she gave, agreeing that perhaps I talk privately with Evelyn. But after Chaos stood in my kitchen and proved people can listen without judgment? “It’s okay.” I give her a weak smile, a shred of fearremaining that maybe she’s not the same—perhaps she will judge. “If we’re to stay friends, you need to know this part of me.”

Her gaze softens, lips pressing together as she reaches across and grabs my hand.

Not another word is said as we idle along the front of the building toward the older woman in a neat short-sleeve blouse and slacks. A jacket drapes over Evelyn’s shoulders, the sleeves hanging limp at her sides.

I draw a shuddering breath, invisible hands clamping tight around my aorta. My chest tightens, phantom pain in my shoulder blades as I try to steady my breathing.It’s not him.She just looks the same.

The same apathetic eyes, wide mouth, heavy eyebrows—the same strange beauty that comes from a mix of unconventional features.

“Do I keep driving?” Marianna asks with a slight laugh.

“As hilarious as that’d be,” I say, thankful for the mild distraction. “It’s okay. Let’s do this.”

She brings the Jaguar to a stop a few feet from where Evelyn stands.

I pick the moment my aunt recognizes my face through the windshield: her eyebrows peak, her hand lifting to her mouth as her legs give out. A picture of modest perfection, she crumples to the ground, legs buckling beneath her, and begins to cry.

Tears well in my eyes.Shit.It’s the most emotion anyone has ever shown toward me. The most concern.

The most love.

Marianna kills the engine, eyes wide at my aunt’s reaction. “This is gonna get deep, isn’t it?”

It already was.

EIGHTEEN

CHAOS

My phone pings with a notification,and a banner slides down from the top with a new message.Circus sent you an image.I flick my gaze to the house before me and grind my teeth.Fuck it.The phone’s unlocked within a second, the picture enlarged on my screen the next.There’s my girl.

Vanessa looks straight at my road captain, her full lips slightly parted, brow dipped in confusion. I pinch and spread my fingers on the screen, enlarging her outfit. A hooded sweatshirt that’s way too big for her, shitkicker boots, and sheer tights over her inked legs. I zoom in further.Thank fuck.It appeared as though she had no goddamn pants on, but it was just that her black denim shorts barely made it below the hem of the enormous sweatshirt.

Girl saved herself a punishment. Not that the shorts and tights combo is any better. Woman has no idea how fucking sexy it is when she teases at what I know lies beneath.

I smash out a message in reply.

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