Edge of Betrayal Read online

  “Not a chance. This doctor chick wants me and is willing to pay good money to get her hands on me.”

  Doctor?

  All kinds of warning bells and sirens were blaring in his skull. “Did you get a name?”

  “No, but it looks like you might know her.”

  “I hope not.” If he did, Sophie had bigger troubles than a couple of thugs. Not that he was going to tell her that and scare her more. Not when she so clearly needed rest. “You should get some sleep.”

  “I’d argue, but I’m too tired. It’s been a few days since I did more than close my eyes for a minute. I can’t even think straight right now.”

  That made two of them. “The couch is yours if you want it, but my bed is more comfortable. I’d feel better if you took it.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’ll be fine. I have some work to do still tonight, and it won’t be the first night I’ve fallen asleep on the couch this week. Go on. Get some rest.” He had some research to do on Sophie.

  Namely, why Dr. Stynger might want to get her hands on Sophie and what he could do to make sure it never happened.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until Sophie was safely behind a closed, locked door that she let herself cry.

  She’d hurt Riley. It had been the last thing she’d meant to do when she’d left. He’d been so sweet to her. So kind.

  That was why she’d run away. He was better off without her. He hadn’t known it at the time, but she had.

  And here she was, in his home, asking him to help her again.

  But what choice did she have? There was no one else she could turn to.

  The fact that she was here now proved just how right she’d been to leave him in the first place. A good woman would have never brought trouble to his doorstep. A good woman would have never been in trouble like hers to begin with.

  Lies, bad luck, and bad blood. That was what she had to offer.

  He deserved a hell of a lot more than that.

  Still, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She needed to feel safe—just for a few hours. Sleep, recharge. Plan her next step.

  The only time she’d ever truly felt safe was with Riley. Even with bullets flying and her in the midst of losing her baby, she’d known without a doubt that he would get her out alive.

  Her baby.

  The tears fell faster now. She had to shove her fist against her mouth to keep from making a sound.

  She hadn’t planned to get pregnant, but she would have given anything to save her child.

  Just one more thing stolen from her, like her childhood, her freedom, and the life she should have had.

  Sophie let herself grieve for a full minute before she pulled herself back in control. She needed to sleep. There was no way to know when she might get another chance to rest. She’d learned long ago to take what she could when she could and not ever believe there would always be more where that came from.

  There were no guarantees in this life. No certainties.

  Except Riley.

  She was certain he’d help her or die trying. He was one of the good ones. One of the few real heroes in the world.

  Sophie had preyed on enough of them to know one when she saw him.

  And now she was preying on Riley, too.

  More tears burned her eyes, but she held them back. She would sleep now because that’s what she needed. Tomorrow she’d wake up and regroup, eat and plan, because that’s what she would need to do tomorrow.

  Everything else, including her feelings for a man too good to be real, was irrelevant.

  Chapter Six

  Adam was still in Mira’s house when she woke up the next morning.

  She ignored him as she made coffee. Ignored him as she read e-mail. Ignored him as he moved around her kitchen like he owned the place, making a breakfast that put her usual bowl of cereal to shame.

  He slid a plate in front of her, and her ability to ignore him couldn’t stand the strain of crispy bacon and fluffy eggs. “Thank you.”

  He sat down across the tiny table from her. His legs were so long that his knee brushed hers. She shifted in her seat, but there was no escaping him. The only thing between them was her collection of antique doorknobs and a thick slab of awkward silence.

  “Did you finally get some sleep?” he finally asked.

  “I slept all night.”

  His fork stabbed a bite of eggs. “You were awake well past two.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I checked on you every hour, just like Dr. Vaughn said.”

  She remembered. He hadn’t even knocked, though she had to admit that doing so would have meant he was willing to wake her when she really needed her rest. It was one of those situations in which he could not win—a fact she grudgingly accepted before judging him too harshly.

  Still, every time he’d come in, her eyes had been closed and she’d been pretending to sleep so that he wouldn’t talk to her. “How do you know I wasn’t sleeping?”

  “I know the way your breathing changes when you’re asleep.”

  She tore off a piece of bacon and revved up the sarcasm engines. “Oh, that’s right. You drugged me unconscious. How could I forget?”

  “You didn’t forget. Nor are you likely to do so in this lifetime.” There was something else he’d been about to say but didn’t. She could tell it by the way he paused before resuming his breakfast.

  The idea that she would know him that well was both irritating and intriguing.

  She lowered her gaze so she wouldn’t have to look at him and be distracted by the way his long fingers made the fork look tiny in his grip. “I need to go check on Corey Lambert today. Do you think they kept him in the hospital overnight?”

  “It’s likely,” he said. “But you can’t go.”

  “I have to. He’s our assignment.”

  “I shot our assignment. I don’t think either of us needs the legal problems that kind of thing will bring.” He sipped his coffee, the move so casual he could have been talking about the weather. “The police will be looking for us.”

  “It was self-defense. We did nothing wrong.”

  “I doubt Mr. Lambert would agree with that assessment.”

  Adam was right. She hated it that he was, but that didn’t change reality. “So what do we do now?”

  “I’ll arrange a meeting with him. If it goes well, I’ll escort him to the facility where he’ll get the help he needs.”

  “And if it doesn’t go well?”

  His pale gray eyes lifted and caught her gaze. There was no emotion in his face, only acceptance. “Then I’ll drag him there.”

  “Where do I fit in this plan of yours?”

  “Behind your desk, in that refrigerator you call a computer room.”

  “That wasn’t the deal. Bella said we were supposed to work together.”

  He lifted an inky black brow. “Oh, you remember that now, do you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I haven’t forgotten that you went out on your own, without backup. It’s going to reflect poorly on both of us.”

  “Worried about your performance review?” she asked sweetly.

  “Yes. I am. And if you ever want to be let out of your cage again, so should you be.”

  He had a point. Again. What was it with him and being right? “Geez. Fine. I’ll play nice. No more meeting people alone. But you have to do the same.”

  Instead of giving her an answer, he checked his watch. “Are you ready to go?”

  She looked down. Her plate was clean; her coffee cup was empty. A pile of e-mail requests from the team awaited her attention. “Sure.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll ride with you until I can get a new car.”

  “And if I do mind?”r />
  “Then I’ll walk.”

  “It’s sixteen miles.”

  “And?”

  She let out a frustrated breath. “Just get in the car.”

  He followed her out, waiting as she locked the door behind her.

  Mira had to move the seat up about a mile before she could once again reach the pedals. He sat beside her, silently patient. In fact, he didn’t say a word the whole drive in to work. By the time she pulled into the garage, she was ready to beg him to say something—anything—if it meant she didn’t have to sit in silence, wondering what was going through his head.

  She put her car in park. Turned off the engine. Adam didn’t make a move to get out.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked.

  He turned in his seat so he faced her more fully. “Do you ever wonder how things might have been between us if I hadn’t decided to use you as leverage?”

  Mira blinked in stunned silence. “What?”

  He tilted his head to the side, as if truly pondering the question. “I’ve never second-guessed myself like this before. I mean, I know what I did to you was wrong and that it hurt you—I knew at the time that all of that was true.”

  “You’re really not scoring any points here, Adam.”

  He frowned and shook his head slightly. “What I’m trying to say is that most of the decisions I’ve made in my life were necessary. Just as I felt it was necessary to do what I did to you. But it’s different this time.”

  “How?”

  “I wouldn’t do the same thing again, given the choice. I would have found another way.”

  He still hadn’t told her what was in that envelope he’d earned for abducting her, and she was dying to know what had been so important to him that he’d willingly betrayed her. “Another way to do what?”

  “Find the information I needed. Looking back, I think that torturing your father would have been a smarter move.”

  “Wow. Okay. Nothing sociopathic about that or anything.”

  He took a deep breath that made his shoulders expand to fill the small space. “I’m saying this all wrong. I only meant for you to know that I’m sorry about what I did to you. If I’d known the kind of person you were—if I’d known what your father intended to do to you—I would have found another way.”

  “So I guess the envelope wasn’t that important after all, huh?”

  “It was the single most important piece of information I’ve ever wanted to know. I’m only sorry it came at such a high cost to you. You deserved better.”

  As apologies went, that was the most awkward one she’d ever received. Still, Adam was clearly trying to make an effort. A frightening, clumsy effort, but it had to count for something.

  “What’s in the past is in the past,” she said. “I’ll be happier if we don’t dwell on that horrible time more than absolutely necessary. It gives me nightmares.”

  “Like last night?” he asked.

  “I didn’t have any nightmares last night.” At least not that she remembered.

  He gave her a look that told her he didn’t believe a word, but he kept his opinion to himself. “I’ll come see you when I find out Mr. Lambert’s status. We’ll plan our next move then. Together.”

  His switch from personal to business took her off guard. She took a couple of seconds to catch up. “Oh. Right. Sure. I’ll take care of some work and see you then.”

  By the time Mira unlocked the computer room and settled in her chair, she still wasn’t sure what had just happened.

  Adam made no sense to her at all. First he terrified her; then he apologized; then he said he wished he’d tortured her father. Before she’d had time to process that, he was back on the topic of work, leaving her feeling like a kid in an overcrowded bouncy castle.

  She’d made it through only half of her e-mail from overnight, including an odd request from Riley about information on a woman named Sophie Devane, when Payton Bainbridge settled in the spare chair near her desk.

  She jumped, stifled a yelp, and put her hand over her heart to keep it from lurching from her chest.

  “You scared me, Payton. Don’t any of you guys ever knock?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize it bothered you.” He smoothed the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit. Each strand of gray hair on his head was trimmed and in place. Even though he was well into his fifties, he was still a handsome enough man that women flocked to him. Of course, it could have been his vast wealth they found so attractive.

  “Probably because everyone walks in. I really should start locking the door when I’m in here.”

  He grabbed her chin so fast, she didn’t even see his hand move. With gentle care, he tilted her head to the side and scowled. “Care to tell me about the origin of this bruise?”

  “It stems from a single bad decision.”

  “As most tragedies do. Was it Adam? If so, I will kill him.” Not a threat. A calm statement of fact.

  Strangely, the urge to protect Adam rose, giving her denial a crispness. “No. I went to see one of the victims last night. Things . . . got out of hand.”

  “How far?” His tone was as cold and smooth as polished steel.

  “Far enough. The man is in the hospital with a gunshot wound.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be more impressed or dismayed. Bella said you were field material, but I honestly wasn’t sure I agreed.”

  “It wasn’t me who shot him. Adam did.”

  Payton eased back in his chair. “I see.”

  “You say that like you’re not surprised.”

  “I’m not. Adam is as he was created to be.”

  “A sociopath?”

  “Hardly. I assure you his emotions are completely normal. He feels; he simply doesn’t allow those feelings to sway his actions.”

  “Like when he abducted me.”

  “I don’t condone what he did, but I understand it. You were a means to an end.”

  “One that almost got you, me, and a whole bunch of other people killed. One that did kill my father.”

  Payton flinched. The move was slight, but she still saw it. “You still grieve for him, don’t you?”

  “No. I grieved for him years before he died—as soon as I found out the kind of man he really was, rather than the man I needed him to be. He was cold. Evil. Just like Adam.”

  “Adam isn’t evil any more than a knife is. He’s a tool. A weapon. I would have thought you of all people would have understood that.”

  “Me? I was the one he abducted. Why the hell would I understand him?”

  “Because of Clay.”

  “He almost got Clay killed, too.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You saw what was done to Clay—your best friend. You saw him hurt people without remorse. You saw him lift that gun to kill.”

  “That wasn’t Clay. They fucked with his head—made him do things. They used him.”

  “Exactly. You forgave Clay because you knew he wasn’t in control, that he had no choice in his actions.”

  “So?”

  “So maybe Adam and Clay have more in common than you care to admit.”

  “Bullshit. You’re just messing with my head so I won’t cause trouble. I know you were one of the people who wanted Adam working with us. Weren’t you?”

  “What I want is unimportant. All that matters is helping those who need us—helping the people your father damaged.”

  That was all Mira wanted, too—to make up for some small amount of pain her father had caused. Maybe if she’d been smarter and less trusting of him, she could have stopped him years ago. Sure, she’d been just a kid, but she was a smart kid.

  Her father had seen to that.

  “What do you want me to do, Payton? Forgive Adam?”

  “I don’t care whether or not you forgive hi
m. All that concerns me is how well the two of you work together. That means there has to be some level of trust.”

  “I won’t trust him. Ever.”

  Payton picked up her notepad and wrote something down before tossing it onto her desk.

  She picked it up and looked at the note. The letters AE were written, followed by a string of numbers. “What’s that?”

  “Knowledge. Yours to seek or ignore as you please. Just know that once you see it, it can’t be unseen.”

  “If this is more of my father’s depraved human experiments, I think I’ll pass. I already know enough about what he did to fuel my nightmares for eternity.”

  “This has nothing to do with your father. It’s all about Adam.”

  She didn’t want to be curious, but she was. She didn’t want to ask, but she did. “What about him?”

  Payton shrugged. “That’s up to you to find out or not. Look at the files or don’t. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Why do I feel like this is some kind of trap?”

  He glided to his feet, smiling in a way that was both devastatingly handsome and chilling, all at the same time. “Because, my dear Mira, knowledge like this always is.”

  Chapter Seven

  Riley pounced on Mira’s e-mail the second it hit his in-box.

  Sure enough, Sophie’s name was on the List—one of the victims of the Threshold Project who’d been experimented on when she was a kid. Mira’s father had been the one to alter her.

  That’s why those goons had been after her. The vicious Dr. Norma Stynger was more than willing to pay to recover any of the children who’d been touched by Dr. Sage’s research. Despite the best efforts of the government and everyone at the Edge, no one had been able to locate Stynger and shut her down.

  She was a ghost—one smart enough not to show her face when so many people wanted her dead.

  Riley scanned the file, then read it again.

  Sophie had been volunteered to enter the project when she was four. The name of the person who signed the release was hard to read, but Riley made out enough to see that the person shared her last name. A parent? Probably. If her father had gambling debts, who knew how far he’d go to pay them, up to and including selling his own daughter.