Edge of Forever (On the Edge Duet Book 2)

by Jacob Chance

  “We are. As long as you keep bringing me coffee,” he adds.

  “For how long?” I ask.

  “Let’s start with indefinitely for now.” He smiles, and relief overtakes me. Immediately, I feel lighter.

  Picking up the cardboard tray, I remove his coffee, setting it down on his desk. “I’ll touch base with you after I speak with Dr. Morrisey.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Stepping into the hallway, I pull my shoulders back and move toward Nash’s office. His door is open, so I knock on the door jamb.

  He looks up and his expression turns guarded. “Georgia.”

  “Nash. Can I come in?”

  He nods, and I close us inside so our conversation won’t be overheard.

  “I brought you a coffee and an apology.” I set the tray on his wooden desktop. “I’m sorry you got blindsided by Belfast and me, but we didn’t know who to trust.”

  “I want to say that it’s okay and I understand, but I don’t. How could you think that Zoe or I would ever do anything to harm you?”

  I clasp my hands together. “I didn’t want to. But from our side of the situation, things didn’t add up. And you were the most likely suspects.”

  “That may be, but I still think reason should’ve won out. You’re like family to us. You and I have worked together for years now.”

  “I know. All I can say is I’m sorry that I doubted you guys. But I hope you can put yourself in my shoes and think about how you would’ve reacted.”

  “I already have. Zoe mentioned that very same thing last night.”

  “Thank God for Zoe. Let me guess, you still can’t understand?”

  “No. I didn’t say that. I wish you would’ve trusted me enough to confide in me. But I get why you didn’t.”

  “So, we’re...good?”

  He smiles. “Yeah. We are. Just don’t make the same mistake again.”

  “I won’t.”

  I text Belfast outside of Dr. Morrisey’s office.

  Me: It’s time for my appointment.

  Brennan: Mikey and I are sitting here. Text when you’re done. Good luck, luv.

  Me: Thanks, xo.

  The door opens before I can knock. Dr. Morrisey stands with her hand on the knob, smiling.

  “Georgia, come in, please.”

  I settle into the same wingback chair I sat in the first time we met. The soft, gray velvet wraps around me like a familiar sweater.

  She takes a seat. “How have you been?” She picks up the Chromebook from the side table, positioning it in her lap.

  “Okay.”

  “What does okay mean?” she probes.

  “I’m hanging in there.” I shrug, being purposely vague.

  “How have you been sleeping?”

  “Not well. I’ve been having nightmares since our last meeting.” I rub my hand over my forehead trying to be convincing.

  “What are the nightmares about?”

  “Being kidnapped and held in North Carolina.”

  “Do you have them every night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you able to sleep after you have one?”

  “No. They’re too upsetting. I worry I’ll have another one if I go back to sleep.”

  “What happens in your nightmares?”

  I look down at my fingers clasped tightly in my lap and hesitate. “I don’t want to talk about them,” I whisper hoarsely, surprising myself with my Academy Award level acting.

  “Are you eating normally?”

  “I don't really have much of an appetite. And when I do, eating makes me nauseous.”

  “How’s your anxiety level during the day? Are you able to function at your usual level?”

  “I’ve been struggling to get out of bed each morning. And I’ve been having a hard time concentrating when I’m here.”

  She remains silent, but I feel her probing gaze carefully watching me. I force myself to keep my head bowed and my eyes on my nervously fidgeting hands in my lap. I hear her nails tapping away on the keys once more, and I swiftly glance up to see her return the Chromebook to the table.

  “Georgia.” She calls my name, and I make eye contact. “I’m going to put you on two weeks mandatory leave with pay.”

  “Okay,” I reply.

  Dr. Morrisey’s eyes narrow in concentration as she studies me some more. Did she not like my reply? Can she tell I’m lying through my teeth?

  Jesus. Does every shrink have to be so fucking intimidating? Maybe people would be more open about their problems if they weren’t.

  The doctor picks up her cell phone and types on it for a few seconds before her attention returns to me.

  “How do you feel about being put on mandatory leave?”

  “I guess I don’t have much choice. You’re the doctor, I’m the patient. You know what’s best for my mental health.”

  “You’re taking it better than I expected. Last week, you seemed so adamant about continuing to work.”

  Shit. She’s on to me.

  “The last week’s been a struggle in more ways than one. I guess I’m realizing I can’t compartmentalize what I’ve been through like I usually do.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’ve figured that out on your own.” She rises, and I take it as a sign that I should do the same.

  “Thank you, Dr. Morrisey.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I want to see you again next week. You can call and schedule a time.”

  Before I can answer, the door opens and two large men rush inside. They each grab hold of my arms before I can draw my gun, and Dr. Morrisey slaps tape over my mouth before I can scream.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Belfast

  “How long has it been?”

  “Feels like too long.”

  “It does, Mikey. It does.”

  Michael and I are sitting in his parked car outside the Boston FBI offices, waiting for Georgia.

  She called ahead and arrived late to limit her time in the building.

  “Been sixty minutes now. She said no more than forty-five.” Mikey didn’t need to remind me. “We can—”

  “Hold up,” I cut him off leaning forward, “what do we have here?”

  Two men run through the side parking lot and jump in a black SUV. We watch as they gun the motor, swerving around the lot and backing up to a loading dock at the rear of the building.

  “Mikey, start the car.” He turns the key in the ignition, drops it in drive, and begins coasting toward the loading dock slowly.

  “What are they doing?” Mikey notices the men sitting motionless in the front seat of the SUV.

  “It looks like they’re waiting.” I barely get the words out before one of the large bay doors rolls up at the loading dock. Two more men walk out toward the vehicle. One of them is carrying an unconscious Georgia over his shoulder.

  “Floor it.” I don’t even give Mikey a chance to step on the gas. I jump over the console and peg my left foot down on the accelerator. “Hang on.” We brace ourselves and accelerate into the SUV head-on and without warning. The two men in the front seat don’t see us coming, until it’s too late.

  Adrenaline pumping, I hop out of the passenger side and immediately fire two bullets through their windshield, one into each of their foreheads.

  I quickly turn and face the third, who was knocked onto the ground at impact while trying to get in the back seat.

  He’s lost his gun during the collision and holds a hand up in front of his face, as if shielding himself. I fire a single round through his palm and into his brain as I pass.

  When I round the back of the vehicle, I see Mikey holding the last man at gunpoint.

  “Put her down,” I warn him as I approach.

  He spins to face me and when he does, Mikey immediately fires a bullet through the back of his skull. I step over and grab Georgia as his lifeless body collapses to the ground.

  Fifteen seconds later, we drive off the property throug
h an unattended side gate, in a stolen FBI sedan. Georgia is still unconscious and stretched out across the backseat.

  “Things never do go as planned, do they?” Mikey weaves in and out of the heavy traffic coming out of Logan airport as we make our way back toward Southie through the Ted Williams tunnel.

  “But we always seem to make it out, brother.”

  “So far,” Mikey adds with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

  Minutes later, we screech to a halt outside the bar, and I carry Georgia inside.

  “Get the fuck off me.” Georgia wakes in full blown fight mode as I lay her down in the back room.

  “It’s me, Georgie, it’s me. You’re okay. We’re safe.” I try to settle her down as best I can.

  When she finally understands where she is, she nearly collapses in my arms. “Oh thank God.”

  “Let’s try not to give the great Almighty all of the credit, luv. Mikey and I did play a small part in your liberation as well.”

  She picks her head up and kisses me. “Thank you.” It lasts longer than it should and shorter than I’d like. “Don’t bother thanking Mikey.” I raise an eyebrow at her.

  “You sure?” Georgia smirks, and my heart smiles.

  “Did you know there’s nothing sexier than a woman who can crack a joke like that, at a time like this?”

  “Who’s joking?” She doesn’t miss a beat. “Mikey does have a way with words.”

  “Bren,” Mikey calls out from the front of the bar.

  “Get some rest, luv. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  By the time I reach him, Mikey has taken cover behind the bar. He signals to let me know we have company. I duck behind an old cigarette machine in the corner just as someone breaches the front door. I watch as two silhouettes enter the bar with guns at the ready.

  I’m fairly certain it’s Mikey who fires first. I know it wasn’t me. But I also know that once the bullets start flying, the questions need to wait.

  I open fire along with him and we each empty our magazines along the front wall, chasing the intruders as they run for cover.

  I reload as fast as possible, awaiting a volley of return fire that never comes.

  “Belfast?”

  “Garrison?”

  “Why are you shooting at us?”

  Mikey takes the opportunity to fire a shot in the direction of his voice.

  “Hey,” Nash shouts. “Stop shooting at me.”

  I catch Mikey’s eye and motion for him to stop. He doesn’t appreciate my request, but nods his concession and gives me the finger.

  “Who’s that with you?” I yell to Nash.

  “It’s Agent Beck.” He sounds annoyed.

  “Really? I don’t hear him. Sammy, how about give me a shout and let me know how those swollen nuts of yours are doing?”

  “Fuck you,” Sam finally responds, and now we’ve got an idea of where he is too.

  “Why are you here?” I shout to Nash.

  “What do you mean?” Nash steps out into full view with no cover. “All hell broke loose back at our offices. We figured the shit’s hit the fan and everyone was here.”

  “The shit has hit the fan.” I edge out in front of the cigarette machine with my gun still pointed at him.

  Sam appears from the shadows across the room with his gun pointed at me, followed by Mikey who has his gun pointed at Sam.

  We all stay exactly as we are for the next thirty seconds before Georgia interrupts us all.

  “It wasn’t them.” She stops right next to me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Georgia nods confidently.

  Everyone stops pointing their guns at each other except for Michael who waits for me to let him know it’s okay to do so.

  “What happened back there?” Nash asks Georgia. “And where’s Zoe?” He starts walking toward the back of the bar.

  “Why would your wife be here?” I can’t help but wonder.

  “When we heard the gunshots back at the office, Sam and I responded right away. I figured things had obviously gone south somehow and told her to find Georgia and get the hell out of there. When I couldn’t find her afterward, Sam and I followed the GPS on the stolen sedan here.”

  “I’m sorry, Nash, she’s not here.”

  His face turns pale white. “Jesus Christ.”

  “It was Dr. Morrisey,” Georgia blurts out like she’s just now remembering. “She started acting strange during my session. The next thing I knew, two men were in the room and she was slapping tape over my mouth. They must’ve knocked me out, because the next thing I remember is waking up here with you.” She turns to me and her mood changes instantly. “If Zoe went down to her office looking for me… We need to find her, now.”

  As if on cue, Nash’s cell phone suddenly starts ringing, along with Sam and Georgia’s cell phones as well. All three of them look to see a No Caller ID message pulsing on their screens. Seconds later the burner phone in my pocket begins vibrating, followed immediately by the one currently in Mikey’s right hand.

  “What the fuck is going on?” He drops his phone onto the bar.

  “Everyone be quiet.” Georgia accepts the call on speaker so we can all hear.

  “This is Special Agent Marx, which one of you am I speaking to right now?” The voice on the other end doesn’t wait on pleasantries.

  “Murphy’s Mortuary, you kill ‘em we chill ‘em.” None of them speak up so I take the initiative.

  “Ahh, Mr Collins, why am I not surprised? I’m so glad it’s you. I was just thinking about you.”

  “Well, I’m flattered but spoken for, so maybe pull those trousers up from around your ankles and stop wasting my time.”

  “You’re so funny, aren’t you. Is everybody listening? I hope so, because I’m only going to say this once. You all have thirty minutes to be standing in front of me at the gravel pits just south of your current location.” He’s telling us that he knows exactly where we are. He’s letting us know he could come and get us if he wanted, but he’s making us come to him.

  This guy is a total douchebag

  “You know the place. You all have thirty minutes, that is, everyone except Zoe. She’s already here. Thirty minutes from now.” Marx doesn’t wait for a response. “See you all soon.”

  “We’re officially fucked,” Sam, who’s been fairly quiet up til this point, is quick to express concern. “Marx will have one of his tac squads waiting for us. There’s no way we’re walking out of this alive.” He plops down in a booth by the door.

  “Relax, Sam.” Nash tries to calm him.

  “Fuck relaxing, Nash. You know who Marx is. You know the resources he has available to him.”

  “Knuckle up and get it together, you pussy.” I can’t help myself.

  “Screw you. Do you have any idea who Marx is? You don’t, do you? Well, let me just fill you in. Christopher Marx is the second in command of Counterintelligence for the entire agency.”

  “I don’t care who he is or how dangerous you think he is, Beck.” Sam is officially pissing me off.

  “Well, you should. He can make us all disappear with a snap of his fingers.”

  “What choice do I have?” Nash sits down across from him in the booth. “He’s got Zoe, Sam. He’s got my wife.”

  “I hate to be the one to say this, but you’re gonna need to muster up some courage, Sammy, so we can get on the road. The gravel pits are close, but if we hit traffic…” I try to move things along.

  “Thank you.” Nash stands up and offers me his hand in gratitude.

  “Don’t get all gooey eyed on me Garrison. I was always gonna see this through, no matter what your lady friend here decides.”

  “Fuck you. Of course I’m going,” Sam shouts at me.

  “And I’m sure we’ll all be safer for it too. Now, can we please go kill these people? I do have a wedding to plan.” I wink at Georgia.

  “Do you really think we’ll make it out of this?”

  Georgia sounds like
she’s having a moment of doubt as we approach the gravel pits.

  “I do.”

  “Sam isn’t wrong. Marx is dangerous and he has unlimited resources at his disposal. He could have a couple dozen of his tac squads in here waiting for us.”

  “I don’t think so, Georgie. Marx has lost two of his squads in as many weeks. Dead bodies piling up eventually draw attention.”

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is, your buddy, Marx, reports to someone just like the rest of you. So I’m thinking his supervisor is not going to want to keep having to explain dead bodies to his own supervisor.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, we take Marx out along with whoever else he’s brought with him and I’m thinking his boss will be all too happy to turn the page.”

  “You’re assuming that we can actually take them all out and make it out of there alive. That’s a pretty big assumption.”

  “What can I say, I’m a fairly ambitious person.”

  We pull into the quarry right behind Nash and follow him to the far back edge of the property.

  Christopher Marx is standing in the middle of the empty clearing straight ahead of us holding an automatic rifle. Zoe is on her knees in front of him. She’s crying.

  “Hello, Nash,” Marx taunts him as he steps out of the vehicle on the drivers side.

  “Stay close to me, luv. No matter what happens, we’re together.” I kiss Georgia before we get out of the backseat.

  “Ahh, Georgia Cohn. And where is he? There he is, ladies and gentlemen, the one and only, Brennan Collins. Wow, this is so exciting for me. Can I please call you Belfast?”

  “So you must be the man who keeps sending out all those men for me to kill. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Don’t piss him off. Not while he’s got Zoe.” Georgia quietly reminds me of the current state of affairs.

  “So it’s just us then?” I try to distract him.

  “First things first.” Marx raises the rifle and places the barrel at the back of Zoe’s head. “Weapons on the ground at your feet.” He edges the gun forward into her head. “I won’t say it again.”

  “Do as he says,” Nash shouts at us.

  I feel Nash’s pain, I really do. But giving up my gun is not something I’m accustomed to doing, no matter the circumstances.