Edge of Betrayal Page 8

  He waited until her gaze was fixed to his before telling her, “If you feel the need to use your weapon on me, I won’t hold it against you.”

  “What?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re giving me permission to shoot you?”

  “If you feel as though you’re in danger from me, yes.”

  “Why in the world would you tell me this?”

  “Because you have a soft heart. Because you might hesitate if I don’t give you my blessing. Because I’m stronger and faster than you, and while I have no intention of hurting you in any way, I’ve seen the things that the other subjects of the Threshold Project were capable of doing—what Clay would have done to you, a woman he loved. I would be a fool to think that what happened to him couldn’t happen to me.”

  She shook her head, making her dark hair sway slowly about her shoulders. “You’re nuts. Completely certifiable. I’m not going to think about shooting you just for fun.”

  Before she could so much as flinch, Adam pulled her weapon from the holster under her arm. While she was gasping in surprise, he wrapped her fingers around the butt and held the barrel against his chest, pinning her hand in place with his own. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Her finger wasn’t on the trigger, but for this demonstration it didn’t need to be.

  In a calm voice he said, “I’m faster than you, Mira. Stronger than you. If things go badly, and I come after you the way Clay did, this is where you aim. Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just pull the trigger.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m not playing your game.”

  “It’s not a game. If it helps, just remember what I did to you. Remember how I shot your best friend.”

  The tension vibrating through her arms went still. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “If you hadn’t done that, Clay would have killed all of us. He told me you didn’t hit anything vital—that it was the shot he would have picked to take given the choice.”

  “I also have good aim, which is one more reason for you to listen to me now.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’ve dreamed about hurting you. Besides my father, you’re the only other man I’ve ever considered killing.”

  “Use that, then—whatever it takes to get the job done. You won’t get a second chance.”

  He let go of her hand and watched as she holstered the weapon. She was shaking so hard it took two tries to seat the gun in place.

  Adam hated it that he’d done that to her, but it was for her own good. Now that she knew how easily he could disarm her, she had a marginally better chance of surviving if he snapped.

  She lifted her chin and gave him a warning stare. “Don’t make me shoot you, Adam. I really hate the sight of blood.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” He stood and took a long step back so he wouldn’t be towering over her, adding to her tension. “Corey Lambert is being released from the hospital in a few hours. I intend to intercept him on his way home and have him escorted to one of our facilities where they can help him. Care to join me?”

  “Escort him? You mean force him to go along with what we want him to do.”

  “I feel I’m being generous, given the bruises on your face. The next time he snaps, that frail little woman he was with might be his next victim. It’s our job to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  She pushed to her feet with a sigh. “You’re right. We can’t let the wild animal roam around free to hurt someone else. Let’s go cage him.”

  Chapter Ten

  The operation to get Corey Lambert some help went off without a hitch. They’d waited until a taxi dropped him off at home and left again before moving in. Within seconds, he was subdued and tucked in the back of a van with two armed guards serving as escort.

  Mira watched the van drive away, hoping Corey would get the help he needed. He wasn’t as far gone as some of those she’d seen. With help and a few months of therapy, he could be one of the lucky ones.

  Adam was in the mobile home’s kitchen, speaking with Victor Temple—one of the men assigned to oversee the use of government assets at the Edge. Like Adam, Victor’s employment by Bella was part of the contract that gave the company the funding and support it needed to locate and help victims of the Threshold Project. Also like Adam, his forced employment was a thorn in Bella’s side.

  By the time all the paperwork was done and Mira had left evidence on Corey’s PC that he’d bought a one-way bus ticket to Florida for a little R and R, it was already dark outside.

  The door to the mobile home closed behind Victor as he left.

  “How much more time do you need?” asked Adam.

  “Just about done. I’m going to have the post office hold his mail so none of the neighbors see it building up. After that, we’re good to go.”

  “I’m starving. Would you like to get dinner?”

  “Why? So you can drug me again?” The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I’m sorry. That was way bitchy.”

  “But not undeserved.” If she hadn’t known for a fact that Adam was more robot than man, she would have thought he sounded hurt.

  “We’re making nice now. I should have more control over my tongue than that.”

  “Forget it. I should have considered how an invitation to dinner might have made you feel. It won’t happen again.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be more relieved or disappointed, which confused the hell out of her.

  After taking care of Corey’s mail delivery online, she wiped her prints from his keyboard and turned off the PC.

  Adam held the door open for her to leave. Gloves clung to his long fingers as he locked the door behind them and pulled it shut.

  They drove back to the Edge in silence. When he pulled up beside her parked car to let her out, she was still wishing she’d thought of some way to make up for being so bitchy to him.

  Social graces weren’t her strong suit. She was just a nerdy girl who was more hips and thighs than hip and cool. So when he stopped the car, she just got out. “Good night.”

  “I’ll request a new assignment for us to start tomorrow,” he said.

  “I can do that.”

  “No. Go home and rest. You didn’t sleep very well last night.”

  She doubted tonight would be any different, but she didn’t say it out loud. “Okay. Tomorrow, then.”

  She felt crappy as she got behind the wheel. Felt even crappier as she ran her snide remark through her mind.

  Adam was trying. Maybe he was doing it only to fool her, but she couldn’t stand the idea of being that girl—the one who held a grudge and spent all her energy looking for ways to get back at a guy who’d wronged her. She was more adult than that. A better person.

  At least she wanted to be. Maybe if she pretended she wasn’t so pissed, some of her anger would trickle away when she wasn’t looking.

  She thought about him sitting at his little kitchen table, eating alone in silence, his fork moving robotically to his mouth.

  Maybe he got lonely, too. Maybe he hated eating alone as much as she did.

  Mira knew that if she went home now, she’d sit in front of her computer screen with her pitiful bowl of cold cereal, watching him eat. Then she’d watch him run. Then she’d watch him lie down and turn out the lights, making it impossible to see him without adding some night-vision capability to the hardware she’d hidden in his house. Then, finally, she’d lie down in her own bed and replay what she’d seen.

  How sad and pathetic was that?

  No more. He was her partner, and like it or not, she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt one time. Just to see how it felt.

  She phoned in an order for carryout and swung by to pick it up on the way to Adam’s house. He’d told her today that she could freakin’ shoot him and that if she did, he’d forgive her. The least she could do w
as try to make up for taking his head off after a simple invitation to dinner.

  The smell of garlic wafted from the plastic bags she carried to his door. His sleek black sedan sat in the driveway, pointing toward the street as if he was expecting to have the need to tear out of there at any second.

  What kind of world must he live in that he thought of little things like that?

  What kind of idiot was she that she didn’t think to do the same thing?

  The light on his doorbell winked out for a second as she pressed the button. She could hear the chime through the door, followed by the heavy tread of footsteps.

  Adam pulled the door open just enough that she could see his face. He was already shirtless, apparently changing up the order of his routine tonight to run before dinner. “Mira. What are you doing here?”

  She lifted the bags. “Dinner. I figured if I bought the food myself, I’d know it was drug-free.” Before the words had even finished landing, she winced. “Sorry. Again. I clearly need a little help with this kung fu grip I have on my grudge against you.”

  “It’s fine. But I’m not hungry. You should just go.”

  “What? You were starving a few minutes ago.”

  “I already ate.”

  “When? There was no time.”

  “Seriously, Mira. You need to leave now.” There was something in his tone that tipped her off that things were not as they seemed.

  He was hiding something.

  She hadn’t checked in on him as usual. She had no idea what he might be doing in there. For all she knew, he had a hostage or was building a bomb to take out the entire office.

  No way was she letting him get away with this kind of secretive bullshit. “Open the door, Adam.”

  “I’m not dressed.”

  Her voice hardened. “I don’t care. I’ve seen you shirtless before. I’ll find some way to survive the strain.”

  “It’s a bad time.”

  Now he was just pissing her off. “Really? A bad time? Do you have some innocent girl tied up in there or something?”

  He looked past her, scanning the street. “It isn’t safe for you to be here. Please go.”

  Now she really needed to get in there and make sure he wasn’t doing something horrible. If she didn’t, not only would she never forgive herself, but Bella wouldn’t forgive her for letting him get away with trouble, either. “Let. Me. In.”

  Her insistence paid off. He grabbed her arm and practically yanked her inside his house. The door shut behind her. He took the bag of Chinese takeout from her fingers and tossed it aside.

  “Hey,” she said as she moved to pick up the toppled containers of food.

  “Leave it,” said Adam. He took her by the shoulders and pressed her flat against the door.

  “What do you th—”

  He covered her mouth, cutting her off words. Her tongue swept across his palm, tasting salt and man. His scent filled her nostrils, and for a second, she forgot she was supposed to be pissed.

  “Quiet,” he ordered in a calm voice. “Stay here.”

  Not going to happen.

  She started to push away from the door. He pushed right back, pinning her in place with the hard length of his body. She felt his heat sink into her from her knees to her breasts, and it was all she could do to stifle a shiver.

  A hint of anger flickered across his features, hardening them. “We’re not alone. The door is armored. Stay here.”

  Armored? Against what?

  As soon as the thought slid into her mind, she felt the door buck behind her. There was a loud pop—the kind a suppressed weapon made when it fired a round.

  That’s when she realized: someone was firing at them.

  The glass in the sidelight to her left shattered. She shrieked behind Adam’s hand.

  He grabbed her body and flipped her around so that he was between her and the door. “Are you armed?”

  She offered a shaky nod.

  “Good. Go into the kitchen. I’ll cover you. Hide in the pantry until I come for you. Its walls are reinforced and it locks from the inside. On three.”

  Mira was still reeling from what was happening. He was talking like nothing out of the ordinary was going on, like it was just another Tuesday evening.

  The door shook again under the force of another trio of bullets.

  “One, two.”

  Adam pulled a silenced weapon from the back of his waistband.

  She wasn’t ready.

  “Three.”

  He fired through the broken sidelight as he pushed her into motion. She stumbled into the kitchen, going as fast as her numb body would allow. The pantry was in the corner—on her surveillance devices, she’d seen Adam walk into it more times than she could count.

  As soon as she got in, she closed the door behind her. It was heavier than it should have been—proof it was also reinforced. Sure enough, there was a lock on the inside.

  She turned the dead bolt and held her breath.

  The shelves were lined with food, but now that she was up close, she could see that behind the box of cereal were several magazines stocked full of ammo. Behind the gallon jug of apple juice was a 9 mm semiautomatic handgun. The canned goods hid an array of grenades and boxed ammunition, and the butt of a long combat knife was barely visible inside the stainless steel bowl of a stand mixer on a high shelf.

  The seconds stretched on, each one dragging its feet as it went. Nervous sweat formed along her hairline. The gun in her grip shook, and it took every bit of her training to steady it.

  Her whole body trembled. She couldn’t hear much from outside the little safe room. There was an occasional muffled pop of a silenced round. Once, she heard something hit a wall nearby—whether it was a bullet, person or something else, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she was still safe and sound.

  But was Adam?

  * * *

  Adam paced his shots, giving Mira enough time to make it to safety.

  Whoever it was on the other side of his door, he was a professional. Adam hadn’t even caught sight of the man hiding behind his neighbor’s house until Adam had backed into the driveway.

  The plan had been to go about his business, pretend he was settling in for a little time on the treadmill, then wait for his opponent to make his skills known. Could he break in, defeating Adam’s security system? Was he silent in his approach, or more the kind of man to use hard, brutal force? Would he be patient and wait for an opportunity to strike, or would he move in fast? Was he alone?

  Every bit of information Adam could gather was to his benefit.

  And then Mira had shown up, complicating his plans to wait out his opponent.

  Once again, the urge to protect her rose to the fore, drowning out all else. It had been like that last year, when he’d made the disastrous mistake of using Mira as leverage to lure in her best friend. Once he’d known what Dr. Sage had in store for her—that the man had no emotional attachment to his own daughter—Adam knew he couldn’t leave her side.

  Another silenced round slammed through the broken window, taking more glass with it as it passed. It ripped a hole in the wall adjacent to his kitchen. Adam went back through every one of the precautions he’d taken to ensure that his pantry was nearly impervious.

  If Mira was in there, she would be safe. He had to believe that. Anything less was far too much of a distraction.

  A shadow crossed over his living room floor, giving away his opponent’s approach. Adam’s mind filled with a list of ways to take the man out without killing him. There were too many questions to ask to let the man die. Besides, chances were he was acting under orders—possibly against his will—and since Adam was working with the good guys now, capturing over killing was going to win him some points in the TRUST ADAM column.

  That, he desperately needed.


  He waited where he was, putting his faith in the armored door he’d installed to keep him safe.

  The doorknob rattled as the attacker tried to turn it. Locked.

  The man reached in through the broken glass and worked the lock. Adam let him. It was better to have the confrontation go down behind closed doors, where his neighbors couldn’t see it happen.

  Not that any of them were still awake at this hour. He’d purposely picked a neighborhood filled with elderly inhabitants so that they were less likely to hear anything he did and less likely to stay awake during the hours in which he did his best work.

  The door swung open slowly. Adam moved to allow it.

  The man led with his gun. Before his head could clear the door, Adam grabbed the man’s gun and broke his wrist with one hard twist.

  The gunman let out a gurgled cry of pain and rage as he charged. He knew exactly where Adam was now, and wasted no time in attacking with his good hand.

  Adam dodged the blow. He didn’t even realize that there was a combat knife in the man’s grip until it went sailing past his eyes with only an inch to spare.

  Usually, a cold, calm logic took over Adam at this point. He would analyze options, assess his enemy’s skills, and plan his attack, all in the blink of an eye.

  This time, all he could think about was what would happen to Mira if he let this man win.

  In the cold place where his logic usually lived, a hot kind of frantic concern blazed to life. It made him faster, stronger. He felt his body reacting more quickly, even as his mind was a distant, hazy thing.

  Instincts took over. He closed into close-quarters combat with the man. Within seconds, the knife went flying across the room.

  The intruder snarled and reached for a holdout weapon on his ankle. His left hand was slow, unused to the action of drawing the gun. That slight hesitation gave Adam the space he needed.

  He drew his silenced weapon, aimed for the man’s knee, and fired.

  The gunman crumpled on a cry of pain, but fury was still riding his features. He wasn’t giving up simply because he was shot.