Razor's Edge Page 11

  “Are you safe to drive?” he asked. “You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’ll sleep when I find Jake.”

  He said nothing about how ridiculous her statement was. She knew she might not find him today. Maybe even not tomorrow. But she needed to hold that hope close and let it comfort her, and Tanner seemed to get that.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “New Mexico. I put the address in my phone’s GPS. I’ll swing by home, and then we’ll hit the road.”

  He paused in the act of opening the door. “I can’t go. I have a birthday party I have to be at or it’s my ass in a sling.”

  She gave him a questioning glance. “That’s your call. I just thought you were all about invading my personal space.”

  “We can go right after.”

  “Sure, if you want to catch up with me, that would be fine. You’re handy to have around on the off chance that I have another lunatic try to strangle me again.”

  “I don’t want to catch up with you. I want you to wait.”

  “While you go to a party? Jake needs me, Tanner.”

  “And my niece needs me. Or rather the rest of my family thinks so. It’s her first birthday and it’s a big deal.”

  While his commitment to his family was endearing, she wasn’t about to risk Jake’s life over a party that the guest of honor wouldn’t even remember. “After the party, you can fly to the nearest airfield and I’ll pick you up.”

  Tanner fell silent, his jaw clenched in frustration.

  They got into her car, and she waited for the gate to lift before pulling out of the secure lot.

  “Do you have a plan?” he asked.

  She glanced over at him. He was too big for her sporty little car. He filled the seat, his knees precariously close to the dash. One arm was propped on the door, and the other across his lap. His shoulders were wider than the seat, forcing him to lean toward her just a bit. Cool air swept past her face, but it did little to lower her body temperature. She swore she could smell his skin with every breath she took.

  Roxanne cleared her throat and focused on the road, keeping track of the cars around them. “We’ll check out the area, see if anyone has seen Jake.”

  “Do you have a photo of him?”

  She nodded. “At home. I’ll bring it along.”

  A red truck switched lanes several cars behind her, giving her a brief glimpse of a black sedan she’d seen a few miles back. Their exit was three miles ahead, but she decided to take the next one instead.

  As she veered onto the exit ramp, the black sedan passed her, speeding along the interstate.

  She let out a long sigh of relief and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel.

  Tanner’s warm hand settled on her arm, giving her a moment of comfort. To his credit, he didn’t say not to worry. Instead, he looked over his shoulder and scanned behind them. “I think we’re clear for now.”

  “I’m taking the back roads home. If we run into trouble, there’s a gun in my glove box.”

  Tanner opened it, removed the weapon, released the loaded magazine, and checked it with smooth, efficient motions. “I won’t risk shooting in a populated area. Stray bullets have a tendency to find the innocent.”

  She glanced at him, seeing a fierce tension lining his mouth and bulging in his jaw, and she wondered if he spoke from experience. “I’m not asking you to take any risks. Just know it’s there if you need it.”

  Roxanne split her time watching the road ahead of her and behind her. When she finally pulled into her garage, her fingers were glued to her steering wheel. She unclenched them with a conscious effort, stretching her hands to ease the ache in her knuckles.

  She went into the house, expecting to hear the shrill beep of her alarm, but instead, she was greeted with silence. Before she had time to process the implications of that, Tanner flung her back, onto the floor of the garage and crushed her under his bulk. His hand cradled her head, cushioning it from the hard concrete.

  A heartbeat later, a thunderous boom exploded to her right. Tanner flinched and grunted.

  Roxanne tried to push him up to see if he was okay, but he didn’t budge.

  Her heart jolted inside her chest as a rush of adrenaline poured through her. She couldn’t see anything, but her nose was crushed against his shoulder, and she could smell Tanner’s skin and the sharp stench of explosives. She could hear his pulse pounding and feel his hard chest press against her with every rapid breath.

  He was still alive. They both were, thanks to his quick action.

  The warm weight of his body left her as he pushed up. A ferocious snarl twisted his mouth. A drop of blood slid down along his cheekbone. His blue eyes were narrowed with anger, and his voice came out in cold, bitter bites. “Stay down. Don’t move.”

  Roxanne nodded, willing to do anything for him in that moment. He’d saved her life. The least she could do was comply. Besides, her legs had gone weak, and she wasn’t even sure she could stand right now.

  She watched as Tanner retrieved a weapon from his bag and went into her home. The back of his shirt was bloody, and there were several holes where shrapnel had shredded the fabric. She didn’t know how bad it was, but he didn’t seem to be concerned.

  As soon as he disappeared inside the door, Roxanne pushed herself up. Her ears still rang, especially the right one. Her elbow was abraded from the concrete floor, and her back had a bad case of rug burn. But other than a few scrapes and bruises, she was fine—shaky, but fine.

  Roxanne got to her feet, staying clear of the house. She got her gun out of the glove box and tucked it into her waistband. Tanner had told her not to move, but she couldn’t just lie there on the floor, doing nothing. If he ran into trouble, she needed to be ready to help.

  She listened for signs of distress or some kind of struggle, but she heard none. “Tanner? You okay?”

  Silence greeted her, and she was just about to go in after him when he came back. His expression was grim, made worse by the blood smearing his cheek. “Whoever did this is gone. There were no more booby traps.”

  Roxanne dug her feet into the floor to keep herself from running to him. He’d taken a beating, and was bleeding. It was all she could do not to reach out and try to offer some kind of comfort.

  Too bad it was her fault he was in this mess.

  “How did you know what was going to happen?” she asked.

  “I saw the wire he used to set the trap. The light hit it just right or I wouldn’t have seen it at all.” That admission seemed to piss him off more.

  “I didn’t see anything.”

  “It was high. Above your line of sight. They knew you’d be focused on the knob or your security keypad.”

  He was right. She never would have thought to look up upon entering her home. “If you hadn’t been with me, I’d be dead. Thank you.”

  He wiped the blood from his cheek. “Don’t thank me. The fuckers ruined your house. And your safe is gone.”

  “My gun safe? That thing weighs a thousand pounds.”

  “It shows in the gouges they left in your wood floor. Sorry.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the house. I’m worried about you. We need to get you patched up. Is it safe to go inside?”

  He nodded. “I did a sweep. It looked like they were in a hurry, so they probably didn’t take time to plant more than one trap.”

  “I bet they figured that one would be enough to take me out, because it would have been if you hadn’t reacted so fast.”

  He shrugged and winced at the motion. “Bella ordered me to watch out for you. It’s all part of the job.”

  “Come on. Let’s see how much damage they did to you so Bella knows how loudly to scream at me for getting you hurt.”

  Tanner led the way inside. He was right. Her house was ruined. The area around the explosion was charred and tattered, leaving exploded bits of drywall and wooden trim in its wake. Parallel gouges in her shiny wood floor showed where they’d dragged h
er gun safe to the back door out onto the wooden deck. The deck railing had been ripped away and left abandoned in the grass. Tire marks were visible where their truck had dug into her manicured lawn.

  She wasn’t sure how they’d managed to move the thing without wheels, but they’d found a way.

  At least Jake’s journal was no longer in the safe. She was losing only a few guns, some cash, and a small store of ammunition.

  Roxanne hoped that the time it took them to break into the safe and find out they hadn’t gotten what they were after would be enough for her to find Jake.

  “Go into my bathroom,” she told Tanner. “I have first aid supplies in there.” And there was more room to maneuver. She was still shaken from the explosion and worried she might accidentally bump into him in the smaller bathroom.

  Tanner moved to strip off his shirt, but the pained look on his face had her stop him. “I’ll cut it off. You won’t be wearing it again, anyway.”

  He nodded and sat on the edge of the giant tub, facing away from her.

  Roxanne had picked the tub, hoping that one day she’d have company in there. The idea of a decadent bubble bath with the hunk of her choice had always been a compelling one—one she’d spent more than a little time fantasizing about.

  Now she was sure that every time she got into this tub, she’d be thinking about Tanner and the blood he’d shed to keep her safe.

  With a deep breath to steady her hands, Roxanne picked up the scissors and cut the shirt away from him.

  He’d bled a lot, but the damage wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. With clinical detachment, she made an inventory of the cuts and scrapes. “There’re some splinters of wood imbedded along your left side, but that’s the worst of it.”

  “Good. Pull them out and let’s get going.”

  “I think you should go see Dr. Vaughn for that. My hands aren’t so steady right now.”

  He looked over his shoulder, his eyes bright with determination. “Those fuckers tried to kill you. Do you think I’m going to sit around in some waiting room while they get away with it?”

  “I don’t have anything to numb the pain. She does.”

  “Just do it, Roxanne. The trail is getting cold.”

  Her stomach heaved at the thought of hurting him, but he was right. The longer they waited, the harder it was going to be to find the men who’d done this—the men who might lead them to Jake.

  Roxanne swallowed her unease and picked up the tweezers. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  Chapter Ten

  She couldn’t hurt him half as much as the mere thought of watching an innocent woman die could. From the instant he’d seen the triggering line, the image of Roxanne’s broken, bleeding body had hovered in his mind, circling like a vulture.

  He’d seen a lot of fucked-up things in his time serving overseas. He’d seen women and children being treated like animals. He’d seen entire villages wiped out, the bodies left to rot under the sun. The things people would do to one another never ceased to disgust him.

  Tanner didn’t like to think about those times. He preferred to dwell on the good he’d seen in people. But right now, all he wanted was to find the men responsible for trying to kill Roxanne and take them out. It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t his job to try, convict, and execute the guilty, but that was what he wanted.

  Whoever had done this had also been willing to use a broken soldier to do their dirty work. Tanner couldn’t let that stand.

  A spark of pain stabbed along his ribs, dragging him out of his bleak thoughts.

  “Sorry,” squeaked Roxanne behind him.

  “I’m fine. Keep going.”

  “Can you turn and lift your arm? I can’t quite get that last splinter.”

  Tanner moved as she instructed, letting her drape his arm over her shoulder to prop it up. Her focus was completely on the task at hand, giving him the opportunity to stare at her unnoticed.

  Her blond hair was mussed, making her seem more real, more human. Her golden eyes were shiny as if she were fighting back tears. All the color had fled her cheeks, leaving her too pale. Dirt smudged her jaw and marred the silky perfection of her blouse, likely from when he’d thrown her down on the garage floor.

  He hadn’t been gentle, but she hadn’t complained. She was too practical for that, it seemed. There was no fuss, no squeamishness, as she pried bits of debris from his skin and disinfected the wounds. The only indication he had that his blood bothered her was her trembling hands and the way she held her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration.

  If he’d been a second slower, she wouldn’t be standing here now, fussing over him.

  That thought was enough to make his blood pressure skyrocket. It had been a close call. The people who’d been here meant business. They weren’t playing games. They wanted her dead.

  Tanner couldn’t let that happen. He also couldn’t bring the shit that was following her anywhere near his family. He was going to have to call Karen and cancel. Once she got over being mad, he’d explain to her why he couldn’t make it, but he didn’t want her worrying about him. She’d already lost a husband. Tanner would much rather have her mad at him for being a flaky asshole than have her worried about his safety. He was already casting enough of a shadow over today’s festivities.

  “There,” she said, releasing her bottom lip. Her teeth had left a deep dent—one he had the crazy compulsion to kiss away.

  Instead, he looked down at her handiwork, seeing only clean, white bandages. “Thanks.”

  “I still think you should see Dr. Vaughn.”

  “Noted.”

  “You mean ignored.”

  He shrugged, feeling the tightness in his skin thanks to the abundance of bandages she’d applied. “I’m sure she’d say your work was more than competent. We both know time is running out.”

  “Let me grab a change of clothes.”

  “I don’t want to take your car. It’s too easy to spot. We can take my truck.” His black truck looked like a thousand others in the city.

  “That’s a good idea. Check it for bombs, though. Just in case?”

  “Definitely.”

  Tanner called his sister-in-law and told her he wasn’t going to be able to make Millie’s first birthday party. By the time she hung up, he could hear the tears in her voice, making him feel like the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.

  There was going to be hell to pay once Reid and Mom got wind of his absence, but that was too bad. He’d take the heat when things were safer and he could talk to them face-to-face. Until then, he’d keep his distance from his family and stick to Roxanne’s side.

  From what he’d seen so far, she was going to need all the help she could get.

  Clay was losing his mind. The blackouts were getting longer, and this time, there were more than just a few bruises left behind.

  His shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch, and his chest felt as if it were on fire. His ribs had to be bruised, if they weren’t cracked. His left eye was swollen, and his face ached where he’d taken a hit.

  He wished like hell he could remember who or what had hit him—and why.

  The ER doctor checked him out and sent him for X-rays. Clay sat on the gurney, dreading what he knew was coming next. Getting his shoulder back into place wasn’t going to be any kind of fun, especially with Mira watching over him, chewing her nails in worry.

  “Go back to work,” he told her.

  “And just leave you here?”

  “It’ll be hours until they’re through with me. I’ll call you to come pick me up when they’re done.”

  Mira’s eyes and nose were red, making him guess that she’d been crying while he’d been off getting X-rays. He hated it that he’d made her cry—again. She was like a sister to him, and he’d sooner cut off his own arm with a rusty butter knife than hurt her.

  Despite his good intentions, it seemed that all he did lately was cause her worry and pain.

  “I’m not leaving,” she said,
crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

  “It’s sweet of you to abandon your beloved network for me, but I’m fine. Really.”

  “Have you seen anyone about the headaches?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he lied. “They’re just stress-related. No big deal.”

  Her mouth flattened in frustration. “If you want to lie to me, that’s one thing, but I’m really worried that you’re lying to yourself, too.”

  “There’s nothing to lie about. Everything is fine.” Except for the searing pain in his body, the constant headaches and the blackouts.

  Nope. No worries here.

  “Please, Clay. Go see Dr. Vaughn. Or someone else. Maybe even a psychiatrist.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my head,” he snarled.

  Mira flinched and shrank back in her chair.

  He hadn’t meant to snap. She deserved better than that.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to sound calm, even though he was feeling anything but. “I’m sorry, squirt. I didn’t mean to act like a dick. Please, just go back to work, and I promise we’ll talk about this when I’m done here.” When the pain subsided and he could stay in control better, they would talk. “I hate you having to see me in pain. I know it upsets you.”

  She stood and gave him a long stare. “It does more than that. Seeing you like this is killing me. If you’re not willing to get help for yourself, please do it for me.”

  Clay wasn’t making any promises. He knew she’d hold him to them, guilting him into doing something he wasn’t sure he could stand. Coming to the ER for treatment was one thing—the service was rushed and impersonal. No one was going to follow up with him and invade his privacy. But if he went to see a shrink, or found a doctor who actually gave a shit about him, he’d be in trouble.

  There was something wrong with him, and while he wanted it fixed, he’d find a way to fix it himself, without anyone shoving their nose into his business. He’d been on his own for a long time, and he liked it that way.

  Payton approached the uniformed officer guarding Brad Evans’s hospital door. After reading Jake Staite’s journal, he had to know the truth. He had to know if the woman he thought he’d killed two decades ago was still alive.