Page 1 of Controlled Chaos

Chapter One

CLARA BENNETT

Doingthe right thing means now I have to die.

It’s inevitable, like the turning of the tides.

If I thought it would help and wanted a second opinion, I’d go to one of my newly found Bennett cousins who, with one touch, could tell how and when that death would occur. But it didn’t matter. There was no changing my fate.

What I see is always what will be.

And in this case, it’s me lying in a shallow grave with a gaping gunshot wound in the center of my chest.

I don’t know how I get there or who pulls the trigger…yet, but I knew that time was coming near.

I see things, sometimes in the future, sometimes in the past, and all in ways that seem impossible, like the designs I draw. When touched, they initiate contact with what we desire most. Most of the time I saw lost loved ones or those who still held a place in someone’s heart. Other times I draw symbols for nefarious deeds.

And right now, in this moment, it wasn’t answers I needed. No, I already had those. There would be no stopping my vision from coming true. What I needed most was coffee, and the line in front of me was moving at a snail’s pace.

The fresh aroma of espresso mingling with vanilla drifted around the room, teasing my senses. The low murmurs of people sighing in contentment while sipping their brews taunted me with the fact that I hadn’t joined them yet.

Fresh-brewed, mind-waking coffee was what I needed.

That energy was in my immediate future.

I stepped forward. Only two people left in front of me and then the barista wearing the cobalt blue smock would take my order. Within minutes, the brain fog would lift and my day could start.

While others rushed off to work and school, I’d still be here in the same cafe for the next hour. By the time my company arrived, I’d be nice and awake with a functioning brain.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Fillpot said, appearing by my side.

Just like my death, this conversation was inevitable too. The FBI agent was on his game to track me down. “I warned you the first day you recruited me that this day would come and you’d need to find a replacement.”

“So that’s it? You give up?” Fillpot asked as I stepped forward again. One person now stood between me and my functioning brain.

“You know how this works. It’s inevitable, just like I knew you’d show up here, just like I know the mystery man will arrive in”—I glanced down at my watch—“fifty-five minutes, while I’m draining my third cup.”

Fillpot nodded and slid his hands into his suit pockets. The tall, thin man who specialized in working with freaks like me slowly nodded as if accepting my words as gospel. In the years that I’d worked with him, I’d never seen him blow his lid or overreact. He was strait-laced and somber, unfazed by what any of us freaks could do. “So, you think that just because you’ve seen the outcome that things can’t change?”

I sighed and tapped my foot in impatience. The man in front of me was taking an exorbitant amount of time ordering two coffees.

“I’ve seen how this plays out, regardless of whether you approve,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “It will be okay. You’ll have other weirdos to help solve your cases.”

“Fifty-five minutes, huh?” Fillpot asked.

“Yep,” I answered, peering around the man in front of me to see what was taking so long.

“You’re never wrong?” Fillpot asked.

“Never. You’re welcome to wait with me to see that I’m right,” I offered, although we both knew it was a waste of his time. This meeting was too important to have miscalculated. When he arrived, I was going to be short and to the point in telling him no and walking out of his life. This was my one shot to live to see my next birthday.

“I bet your parents never surprised you at Christmas time. You already knew the presents and what everyone was getting.”

My lips twitched as I fought a smile. Fillpot may have been my handler, but sometimes when the moon was full, and the timing was perfect, he showed an empathetic side.

“I never spoiled it for my family if that’s what you're asking.” I chuckled as the barista slid the two coffees across the counter to the guy.

I rubbed my hands and practically bounced on my heels, just thinking about the first sip that I’d been craving all morning.

The man turned around with the coffees in hand and held one out in my direction. “Clara Bennett, I presume.”

Breath froze in my lungs. My stomach leapt into my throat, and my eyes widened at my future. The man I was supposed to meet in fifty-five minutes stood in front of me.

And he was early.

“How…” The question died on my lips.

“Surprise.” Fillpot chuckled as he rested his fingers beneath my chin to ease my mouth closed.

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