Living on the Edge

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “Yeah, but you’re not other guys. You’re better than that. You’re responsible.”

  “Maybe sometimes I get a little tired of being responsible.”

  Bella stood and moved around the desk. She sat next to him and took his hand in hers. Her fingers were slim and cool and slippery from the gun oil, but it was nice having someone reach out to him. He felt completely at a loss, floundering for some toehold on reality.

  He might be a dad. How the hell could something like that even be possible? He was nothing like his own father had been: steady, rock solid, dependable. Riley was too wild, too impatient.

  Dad would never have gotten a woman he hardly knew pregnant.

  “You can have a raise,” said Bella. “And I’ll have a baby to fuss over. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”

  “I’m setting a bad example for the girls.” His three younger sisters. “I promised Dad I’d take care of them.”

  “And you do. You’re putting them all through college and taking care of your mom to boot. You’re out at the farm, keeping the place from falling down around her ears, when it would be a lot cheaper just to move her into town and sell the land.”

  “It’s her home. I can’t take that away from her.”

  Bella squeezed his hand. “And that is why I love you. You’re a good man. You’re going to be a kick-ass dad. So go out there and find your pregnant, leggy model and figure out how you’re going to make it work.”

  When she said it like that, it seemed pretty clear.“I’m not sure how to find her.”

  “Boy, wouldn’t it be nice if we had someone who was good with data? Someone who could probably hack into any database in the state? Someone who could find your baby mama and give you her address?”

  Mira. Duh.

  Riley grabbed Bella’s head and kissed the top of her ball cap. “Thanks, piglet. You’re the best.”

  He left the office, hearing her growl at him for calling her by her hated nickname from down the hall.

  Payton was waiting in the restaurant when General Robert Norwood arrived. The man had aged since they’d last seen each other, but Payton figured the general was thinking the same thing about him.

  Payton rose, shook Bob’s hand, and they both sat.

  “Any word from Sloane?” asked Bob.

  “None. You?”

  “Lucas left one message. I tried to call back, but no one answers.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s tough, smart, and well trained.”

  Bob nodded. The waiter took their order and disappeared. Payton had chosen this place because the staff was discreet and the tables were spaced out enough to limit the possibility of eavesdropping. Neither one of them wanted their conversation to be overheard. He wasn’t even sure how smart it was for them to be meeting at all.

  “I need you to tell me what you know,” said Payton. There was no need to elaborate about what. Bob knew.

  “I swear I haven’t heard a word about the project in years. I thought it was as dead as you did.”

  “As much as I want to believe otherwise, someone has the List. That much is obvious.”

  “I told you I destroyed all the copies I knew existed—hunted them down one by one.”

  “Apparently you missed one. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bob. “I worry that if we do anything, it will expose us. If one of the others is dabbling again, they’re not going to want us to know about it.”

  “How many of the original group are still alive?”

  “Not counting the subjects? Six. You, me, and the senator. The other three are in the private sector now, all apparently legit. I checked before I came.”

  “Could it be someone on the outside stumbled across a copy of the List?”

  “It’s possible, but they wouldn’t know what it meant if they did.”

  “Unless they were one of the subjects,” said Payton. “One of the children now grown. Like Adam and Lorenzo.”

  “Hell,” spat Bob. “They weren’t supposed to remember.”

  “The doctors were wrong. They were wrong about a lot of things.”

  “You work with some of those kids at the Edge every day. Have you seen any signs of the memories returning?”

  “I see signs of stress. It could be memories, or it could be the job. There’s no way to know for sure without asking outright. I don’t think that’s wise.”

  “Neither do I. We have to be cautious. Anything we do to stir up memories is just going to make their lives worse. We owe them more than that.”

  Guilt choked Payton for a moment. He took a sip of water, but it did little to clear away his past mistakes. “That we do.”

  Bob ran his hand over his balding head. “I remember a few of the names on the List. I’ll check up on them, discreetly. I’ll also ensure that Lorenzo Soma is stopped. Permanently. He’s a threat to my daughter, and that can’t be tolerated.”

  “Agreed. A threat to one of them is a threat to all. I think you need to visit the senator as well. He needs to understand that we can’t let this get out of control.”

  “He’ll do what I say,” said Bob, completely confident. “I know enough about him to ruin his career if he doesn’t.”

  “Blackmail?”

  “An ugly word for an effective tool, but yes, if that’s what it takes.”

  Payton wasn’t squeamish when it came to the tools of the trade. He’d do whatever it took to protect Bella and the others. Even if it meant killing the general himself.

  “I’ll keep my ear to the ground,” said Payton. “Maybe do a little careful nosing around. We have a therapist on retainer at the Edge. Some of our employees see him. I’ll have a little look at his files. If the memories are returning, we’ll know.”

  “The question is, what will we do if they are?” asked Bob.

  Payton shook his head. He had no answers. “We’ll just have to make sure no one believes them. For their own good.”

  Chapter 11

  “I see six men down there,” Sloane said. “All armed. All bored.”

  Lucas took the binoculars she offered him.

  He’d found them a nice, elevated place to scout from that was shielded by lots of foliage. The airstrip was out of pistol range, but it was as close as they could get without being seen. They lay flat on their bellies, watching the men around the airstrip in the shallow depression below.

  Lucas peered through the binoculars, counting men and weapons. The airstrip was only long enough to handle small planes, so there wouldn’t be a lot of unexpected company from that direction. The road leading here, however, was another story.

  The runway had once been paved, but now cracks and potholes were obvious even from a quarter mile away. Jungle plants had sprouted up along the edge, working hard to retake the ground that had once been theirs.

  “There are going to be more men inside the shack,” he whispered. “And possibly more doing a perimeter sweep that we can’t see.”

  “I can see through the window if I move to the rise on the west.”

  “Better not chance moving too much. We’ll end up in a firefight, and if Soma sees any signs his men are down, he may not even land.”

  “So you think it’s safer to wait and take them all on at once when Soma lands?” asked Sloane. “We’ll be shooting right at Gina.”

  “At least she’ll be where we can find her rather than in a plane on her way to who knows where.”

  “I’d really like to start picking these guys off—put the odds a little more in our favor.”

  “One gunshot and everyone will know we’re here. They could call Soma and warn him off.”

  Sloane let out a long, frustrated sigh. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but I think we have to wait.”

  “I’m going to sneak closer and see if I can hear when they’re expecting a flight.”

  “Wish I’d brought my parabolic mic,” she muttered. “Or some comm gear.”

  “You
weren’t exactly expecting help on this mission. Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.” He pointed to his right. “I’ll go that way through the trees. If shit goes down, that’s where not to shoot.”

  “Right. Got it.”

  And because he couldn’t stop himself, he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him for a quick kiss for luck. She came to him easily, her mouth responding to the touch of his in a hot, sweet instant. Her lips parted, and Lucas couldn’t resist the invitation. He deepened the kiss and shifted so he could get a better angle. He cursed the tactical vests between them for denying him the alluring press of her breasts against his chest.

  A soft sigh rose from her, almost inaudible, but that faint noise was enough to get his blood pumping and make his cock swell.

  Sloane went to his head fast and hard, making him forget the rest of the world. While his mouth was on hers and the silky feel of her hair filled his palm, nothing else seemed important. Time slowed, and all that mattered was the taste of her on his tongue, her breath in his lungs and the need for more.

  If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to in a few more seconds.

  Cursing the need for haste, Lucas pulled away. Sloane followed him up, and he had to grab her ponytail in his fist to keep her from ruining his good intentions.

  He was breathless when he said, “I need to go now, while the light is still good.”

  She nodded. Her mouth was dark pink and shiny from their kiss. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils had swallowed up all but a thin ring of green in her eyes. “You should go.”

  He wanted to lean forward and give her just one more short, fast kiss, but he didn’t dare. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, adjusted his pants around his erection, and slipped silently into the trees.

  He promised himself that as soon as this was over, he’d kiss her the way he wanted—thoroughly, not missing a single spot of her sweet body. It was that promise that kept him moving toward his target, that promise that made him shove his head into the game and figure out a way to rescue Gina.

  He wasn’t sure if Sloane would still be willing to have anything to do with a washed-up soldier once they were on their way out of here, but he was going to do his best to make sure she was as primed and ready to give it a shot as he was.

  Lucas cleared his mind of clutter as he neared the east side of the shack. He hadn’t broken the tree line yet, nor would he unless he had no other choice. The thick concealment of the jungle was his best friend right now, and he wanted to keep it that way.

  He peered through the open window and saw three men at a table playing cards. Their words were garbled and hard to understand, but he managed to get close enough to hear snippets of conversation.

  He listened for close to an hour, hearing nothing of use—just grumbling about being stuck out here instead of the cushier duties awaiting them at Soma’s villa.

  He’d just shifted his weight to ease the pain growing in his knee when he heard the rumble of a small aircraft.

  Lucas eased back away from the shack, the slow movement taking too damn long, but necessary. Once he was clear, he sprinted through the trees back to Sloane.

  He heard the aircraft land and the engine shut off.

  By the time he reached Sloane, her fingers were clenched so tight around the binoculars, she was shaking.

  “Who is it?” asked Lucas as he assumed a firing position and grabbed up a rifle.

  The plane landed, but no one got out. “I don’t know. I can’t see through the windshield. There’s a glare.”

  Lucas peered through the scope on her rifle.

  Armed men surrounded the plane. Finally, the door opened. A stocky man wearing body armor and a shoulder holster hopped down onto the aging pavement.

  “Is that Soma?” asked Lucas.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him.”

  “Trade me,” said Lucas. “Take the rifle. You’re a better shot than I am.”

  She gave him an odd, almost skeptical look, but took the weapon from his hands. “I’m not shooting until I see Gina.”

  “That’s a good idea. You’ll blow through the fuselage like a tin can.”

  Lucas tried to keep his breathing slow and even as they waited. Nervousness bore down on him. A trickle of sweat slid into his eyes.

  The stocky man surveyed the area, spoke to one of the guards, then turned back and poked his head through the open airplane doorway.

  “There’s definitely someone else in there,” she said.

  “Yeah. Did you see the man he spoke to?”

  “I did.”

  “That’s likely the head guard—the guy in charge of the others, or at least with the most seniority. When the shooting starts, try to take him out as soon as you can.”

  “I’d rather take out Soma.”

  “If you think you’ve got a bead on him, go ahead, but the head guard will be the one the men look to for guidance. Without him, we’ll have more chaos, and today, chaos is on our side.”

  Another man came out of the plane dragging a young woman along with him. He had a firm grip on her arm.

  She was petite, blond, and apparently unharmed. Her hair was a mess, and she had on a short skirt and ridiculous strappy heels, as if she’d been dressed for an evening on the town instead of a trip into the jungle.

  “Gina,” breathed Sloane, her voice radiating with fear.

  Lucas put a staying hand on her back. “Easy,” he whispered. “We’ve found her. Now we just have to get her back in one piece. No sudden movements, okay?”

  The man holding her—the man Lucas assumed was Soma by his suit and the way the other men shifted a nervous step away from him—dragged her so she was in front of him.

  “I don’t have a clear shot,” said Sloane. “Between that brick of a man and Gina, he’s completely covered.”

  “Wait. We’ll give him a minute to relax and feel safe. He’ll let his guard down and then you can take him out.”

  Her shoulders moved as she pulled in a deep breath and let it out. Lucas moved his hand away, worried he might mess up her shot. She was in control of herself now. He didn’t have to worry about her doing anything foolish. Sloane was too solid for that.

  Soma moved with Gina and his entourage following him until they were out of sight inside the little shack.

  “Shit,” spat Sloane.

  “It’s okay. I have an idea. I’ll sneak back around to the side of the shack while you start picking off the guards as fast as you can. I’ll go in and get her if you aren’t able to take out Soma before I do.”

  “As soon as I open fire, they’ll know we’re here. They’ll run.”

  “Take out the plane and they won’t go anywhere.”

  “It’s too far for Constance.”

  “The wings are full of fuel. Even if you don’t blow the plane up, they won’t get far without fuel.”

  “Okay. We’ll do this your way.”

  Lucas grinned, barely resisting the urge to kiss her. “Give me seven minutes to get over there, then open fire.”

  Sloane looked at her watch, then back at him. “Be safe, okay?”

  “You do like me. I knew you would.”

  The faintest smile curved her mouth. “In your dreams. I just don’t want to leave any of my weapons behind. I like my weapons.”

  “You like me more.”

  “You don’t make things explode.”

  He raised his brows and said, “Just wait and see if I don’t,” before slipping off into the trees.

  Arrogant man.

  Too bad he was right. Sloan did like him despite her best sense of reason. Despite his connection to her father.

  If it hadn’t been for his calming touch a moment ago, she might have lost it right there. Seeing Gina in the hands of that kidnapping bastard, surrounded by armed goons, was nearly more than she could stand.

  But he had touched her and settled her nerves, giving her some much-needed mental space to think clearly.

 
Lucas was always touching her. She’d never before met a man as touchy-feely as him, but she wasn’t about to complain now. Unless she was complaining about having to wait to see if this attraction between them was more than a case of adrenaline poisoning.

  Sloane checked her watch. Five more minutes.

  Below, the men milled around, making a show of being vigilant. She wasn’t fooled. She’d seen them when they thought no one was looking. It wasn’t until Soma showed up that they started playing the role.

  Sloane’s scope moved to the shack in the distance. She couldn’t see through the windows from this angle, but she could almost feel Gina in there, so fragile and scared. She was depending on Sloane to get her out of this mess. Alive.

  Sloane was gripping her rifle too tight. She forced herself to relax and pretend that the stakes weren’t quite so high. She needed to treat this like any other mission. Get in, get the job done, get out. Simple, quick, effective. Just like she always was.

  The men below wouldn’t be the first scum she’d killed. She wasn’t a novice. She knew her way around a fight, and this was just another day on the job.

  She checked her watch again. Two minutes left.

  Sloane scanned the tree line, searching for signs of Lucas. She saw none—no movement or flashes of color that didn’t belong. She knew he was there, though. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Lucas would abandon her and leave her out here alone to fight for her friend’s life.

  He was a better man than that.

  Time was ticking down. Sloane gauged the distance to her first target again. He hadn’t moved. The wind hadn’t changed and in another sixty seconds, her target was going to be dead.

  Sloane counted down in her head, pulled in a breath and let it out as she fired.

  The shot was clean—right through his head. He crumpled without raising an alarm. A second later, the report of her rifle was heard below. Sloane was already taking her second shot when all hell broke loose.

  Men scampered for cover. She spotted one man hiding on the wrong side of a battered truck, unaware of the direction the shots had come from.

  She fired, hitting him squarely in the chest. He wasn’t dead, but he would be soon. As it was, he was out of the fight, and that was what mattered.