Close to the Edge

by Zara Cox

  I was so focused on not grabbing her for another mind-blowing fuck, I didn’t realize she’d ducked under my arm to wash my back until she gasped.

  Shit. The scar.

  Gentle fingers touched my left shoulder blade where the bullet grazed me. “What happened?”

  Her soft sympathy reached inside me, further weakening rigid foundations. My shrug didn’t hit the offhand mark as I turned. “Trigger-happy client. Let’s get out of here and I’ll tell you the full story over breakfast.”

  She looked disappointed but she didn’t say anything as I rinsed off and grabbed a towel. In the bedroom I gathered my clothes, aware that her gaze grew more guarded with each passing second.

  I tightened my gut against the urge to reassure her. It was better this way. I wasn’t about to break open a box of hearts and flowers. Even if I once possessed such a box it had been smashed beneath the reality of repeated promises made and broken with callous indifference. Every single promise made to help my mother had been broken.

  Then Kirsten came along and drove the knife in deeper.

  I wasn’t about to speak words I didn’t mean or give reassurance that I couldn’t back up. “I’ll see you downstairs in ten?”

  She blinked, then jerked out a nod.

  I walked out, suspecting that the word bastard was lit up in Lily’s mind right now. I slammed the door in my room, then stood frozen in place. Could I have handled it better?

  No. Maybe. Minutes ticked by, then I heard her walk past my door.

  Fuck it. I threw on fresh clothes with an urgency I didn’t understand, and rushed downstairs to find Lily hovering by the front door wearing a tight black T-shirt that ended where a pair of leather shorts started. Those shorts ended at the top of her thighs, leaving an indecent amount of leg showing. She wore minimal makeup, but her eyes were darkly outlined, and her lips gleamed a faint pink. The wrist cuffs were back in place, as was a new, broader choker.

  God, if she was trying to torture me, it was working. She looked phenomenal.

  I swallowed my tongue, spotted the keys in her hand and realized she was dressed for outside.

  “Where are you going?”

  Her chin lifted. “For breakfast. Where else?”

  “Lily—”

  “Oh, and I’m driving this time.” She twirled the keys. “You can come with me or you can follow me.”

  My jeans and T-shirt were okay to go out but I would’ve followed regardless. She stepped outside and hurried to the garage.

  “Lily, let’s talk about this—”

  “Let’s not,” she snapped. “And if you even think about physically restraining me, I’ll rip your balls off.”

  I believed her. But I still shook my head as I followed her to the garage. “No can do, baby. I catch the smallest sign of danger and I’m getting very physical. Count on it.”

  I let her glare at me for a full five seconds before opening the Mini’s door for her. She slid behind the wheel. Going around I said a prayer and contorted myself into the passenger seat.

  She drove fast without breaking limits and considerately without being a pushover. Me, she completely ignored. We passed several respectable cafés before she stopped at an upmarket bistro. She surprised me by bypassing the parking lot and heading for the drive-through lane. It wasn’t your average drive-through. Shiny food trucks displayed glorious baked goods, bacon, cheeses and everything in between.

  Two guys and a woman manned the trucks. The woman smiled when she spotted Lily. “Hey, girl.” She handed over two big paper bags with the bistro’s logo on it.

  “Thanks,” Lily replied.

  I deposited the bags on the backseat and reached for my wallet, but she was already driving away.

  In between ensuring I wasn’t blocking the blood flow to my legs and trying not to drool over her legs, I decided to maintain silence. Ten minutes later she pulled up to an abandoned lot with a tall wall erected on the south edge. She drove to the center, stopped next to a bench and turned off the engine.

  I stepped out with our food and looked around. “What’s this place?” I asked.

  “It used to be a drive-in theater.” She reached into the bag and started setting out the food. Bacon. Bagels. Cream cheese. Coffee.

  I had zero appetite but I accepted the coffee. She laced hers with cream and sugar, took a sip and set it back down.

  “Who owns this place?”

  “For now, the original owner. Next month, maybe me.”

  I nodded at the food. “Why the drive-through? Why here?”

  She stared into her coffee. Then shrugged. “Your guys didn’t have a chance to check out the bistro first. And I knew I could be alone here.”

  I. Not we.

  I waited a beat. “You’re pissed.”

  Her mouth firmed. “Give the man a prize.”

  My jaw clenched. “Enough. You’ve made your point with your little tantrum.”

  Anger flashed across her face. I watched her rein it in. “Fine. Talk to me, then, Caleb. Convince me I didn’t just sleep with an asshole who couldn’t even be bothered with conversation after he fucked me.”

  “Jesus...”

  “Leave him out of it. This is between you and me.”

  Absurdly, I wanted to smile. But her beautiful face was a picture of hurt she was trying to hide. I dragged a hand down my stubbled face. “Full confession. What we did kinda...blew my mind.”

  Shock replaced hurt, and then her expression slowly softened. After a minute she nodded. “Me, too,” she whispered, blushing fiercely.

  “Okay. Now that we’ve got that squared away, how can I make you feel...less pissed?”

  She grabbed a sliced bagel, tore a piece, but didn’t eat it. “I want to know you, Caleb. Tell me something.”

  I took a deep breath. “You know I grew up on the rough streets of LA.”

  Her hand trembled as she stared wide-eyed at me. “Yes. Was it after you lost your mom?”

  Christ. I weighed the option of evasion against the return of her hurt, and grimaced inwardly. “It was before. And after. She was a manic-depressive. The moments of light in her darkness were very few but for the first nine years of my life she had medical insurance and a decent doctor to prescribe her the right medication.”

  “Caleb—”

  My fingers brushed her lips, silencing her. “I don’t like telling this story. Let me tell it once and be done. Okay?”

  A small nod.

  My chest tightened as memories flooded in. “She lost her job and the domino effect of no insurance, losing our house, ending up at a halfway house, then a shelter, sent her into a deeper hole. I was eleven before we were assigned a place in Trenton Gardens.”

  Lily winced but I couldn’t let her sympathy affect me.

  “But it was too late. She’d lost the will to...” I took a breath. “I was the only thing she fought for. Every time social services tried to take me away, she would fight to keep me. I’ve no idea how she did it, but she won. But then she would spiral back into darkness. I couldn’t help her. I called every helpline I could find, wrote a dozen letters every week to anyone I thought could help. The doctors we managed to see were hopeless. Twice, she tried to end her life. Every time they sent her home from the hospital with a damn leaflet. I even pawned her jewelry to pay for an appointment with a private doctor. The pills he prescribed helped. When she ran out I called my social worker and asked her to help me get her more. She just...laughed at me.” Anger and despair I hadn’t felt in a long time swelled inside me. I withdrew my hand from Lily’s, clenched it in my lap and took another breath. “Anyway, she succeeded on her third attempt.”

  “Oh, God...”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. I opened my mouth to tell her not to cry for me. Then stopped. I wanted her soft sympathy. It was a salve to a wound that had never healed.
Shedding tears for my mother was one of the many things I hadn’t been able to do for her. Maybe Lily’s tears would be enough to let her know how sorry I was for failing.

  Lily got up, walked round and slid into my lap. “I’m so sorry.” Her arms circled my neck. I hugged her close, breathed in her goodness. And just like in the bathroom, I never wanted this moment to end.

  I never wanted to let her go.

  Which was crazy. We’d only known each other for a week. And...dammit, I didn’t do feelings!

  I looked around and grimaced. “Can we continue this at home?” I said, raising my eyebrow.

  For some reason my cocked eyebrow made her smile. “Too wide-open-spaces for you?”

  “Something like that,” I said, looking down at the table. “Breakfast is ruined, though.”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”

  I scowled. “A woeful waste of good bacon.”

  Her smile widened as she stood up. “We have bacon at home,” she suggested.

  Unable to keep my hands off her, I grabbed her and trailed my hands up her thighs. “Is there an offer in there?”

  Her fingers tunneled through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “If you want. But I don’t break out my culinary skills for just anyone.”

  I caught a trace of pain through the flippant words. “Why not?”

  Green eyes darted away, then came back. “Stepdaddy issues. In return for him...tolerating me, I had to cook for him. It made me hate cooking.”

  I caressed her damp cheek. “He doesn’t deserve your love. Or your pain.”

  Her eyes misted. “It’s not easy to brush it off.”

  True. I’d lived with guilt and anger for so long it was fused into my DNA. “I get it.”

  “Caleb?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was thinking...maybe your presence has achieved the opposite of what we hoped. Maybe instead of bringing my stalker out into the open, he’s given up?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but assholes like that don’t go away easily. I’m close to catching him. Trust me. Okay?”

  Small, soft hands framed my face. “Okay.”

  My hands coasted higher, brushed the underside of her breasts. Her breathing altered. “Let’s go home.”

  She nodded.

  We threw the uneaten breakfast in the trash. I winced as I folded myself back into the car. “This is the second thing I’m punishing you for when we get back.”

  Her eyes widened. “What’s the first thing?”

  “Driving me insane with those fucking shorts,” I griped, reaching down to adjust my hard-on. “That was the intention, wasn’t it?”

  Pink flared in her cheeks. “Maybe.”

  “Well, you are definitely getting your ass spanked for it.”

  Hot anticipation washed away the last of the sadness and pain in her eyes.

  When she pulled up at a stop sign, I dragged my gaze from her slim thighs to her face, then her hair. “Has your hair always been this color?”

  She shook her head. “It used to be dark blond.” She grabbed a lock at her right temple. “This part started turning whiter when I was twelve. It was cool at first. Then I got tired of it. So I went white all over.”

  “I like it. A lot.”

  Her gaze latched on to mine. We stared at one another, pure electricity zinging between us. The driver behind us honked impatiently. She jumped, then laughed. Her laughter triggered mine, easing the tension of the past hour. The lightness stayed as we drove through the gates. As I threw her over my shoulder and rushed through the front door into the living room.

  Maybe this...unburdening thing wasn’t catastrophic after all.

  Maybe breaking my rule for her wasn’t the end of the world.

  Maybe—

  We froze as the TV flicked to life of its own accord. Except that was impossible. Not without electronic intervention.

  That intervention arrived in the form of neon green bits of code raining down the screen, then a masked face framed by a black hoodie. I pushed Lily behind me as if it would protect her from the loud, distorted voice that filled the room.

  “Hello, Lily Gracen. First of all, congratulations. You’re very close to achieving perfection with your code. Don’t be frightened. I represent interested parties wishing to form a partnership. Apologies if I’ve made you a little...uncomfortable lately. But I urge you not to give the code to SDM or I’ll have no choice but to stay in your life a while longer. Think about it. I’ll be in touch. Oh, and tell that fixer to go home to LA. He won’t be of much use to you.”

  The strangled sound Lily made cut to the heart of me. I took a step toward the TV just as it went blank.

  A loud pop shot through the house, then an eerie silence echoed in its wake.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Caleb

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  “We’re getting the hell out of here.” I spotted an overnight bag and handed it to her. “Pack what you need but do it fast.”

  She reached for my hand. “Caleb—”

  I turned away, fist clenched, the need to punch something running wild through me. “Lily, the asshole hacked your Wi-Fi, sent the transmission, then hit the house with an electromagnetic wave that killed the electricity on the whole street. You’re not staying here. Not until I have my hands around his fucking throat.”

  To her credit, she didn’t dawdle. She stuffed clothes into the bag, added essentials, then grabbed her satchel and purse.

  Ten minutes later we were driving away from the house.

  “Your guys searched the area. Did they find anything?”

  My security team’s presence had provided some reassurance, but not enough to close the horrified black chasm in my stomach at the thought that from the moment we returned to the house, we were sitting ducks. It snatched my breath. Reminded me of the consequences of dropping my guard.

  “Caleb?”

  I gathered my scattered thoughts. “They found motorcycle tracks behind the house.”

  She flinched at my cold tone, but said nothing for a couple of miles. “Where are we going?”

  “To the airport.”

  “And then?”

  “We’re swinging by my place in Malibu. Then I’m taking you to the safe house in Lake Tahoe.” I should’ve done that in the first place. Regardless of the fact that bringing her home had produced the desired effect of drawing the stalker out, the flip side was much worse. The EMP blast could’ve been knockout gas. Or—

  “So you still don’t know who it is?”

  My fingers tightened on the wheel. “No.”

  She didn’t speak much after that. Neither did I. I was too busy playing worst-case-scenario.

  Anything could’ve happened to Lily.

  My jet was ready when we arrived at the airport. We took off immediately. Leaving Lily in the club chair upfront, I retreated to the back of the plane and dialed Maggie.

  She answered on the first ring. “Boss, how can I help?”

  “I’ve left three guys in Palo Alto to track down this bastard. I need another team at the Reno safe house.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  I hung up, then went through my contacts. Every favor owed to me, I shamelessly called on. By the time we landed in LA I was in a better frame of mind.

  My house in Malibu was set on a bluff that overlooked a private beach. The helipad that came with the property had been used only a handful of times. Today it came in handy as a way of avoiding LA’s horrendous traffic.

  I walked in and my steps slowed. The last time I was here I was in complete control of my world, my only focus on being bigger, better, badder.

  In the space of seven days, the ground had shifted beneath me, attempted to change my orbit. All because of the stunning woman who stop
ped beside me, her eyes lighting on the space I’d claimed, possessions that proclaimed my success. That fierce yearning to hang on to her clobbered me again. I smashed it to pieces.

  No more breaking rules.

  “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.” I sprinted upstairs to my bedroom to retrieve the weapons I kept in the safe.

  I came down to find her at the window, staring at the ocean with her arms wrapped around her middle. She turned at my approach. “Can’t we just stay here?”

  The urge to say yes pounded me. “No. This place is secure enough but it’s in my name. Any fucker with a computer can find it. I need you off the grid.”

  Resigned, she nodded.

  We headed outside and reboarded the chopper.

  “Chance will need to know I’m going off-grid.”

  My teeth gritted. “No, he doesn’t. You still have time before your deadline. And frankly, I don’t want him anywhere near you right now.”

  Again, she didn’t react as expected. She was either in shock or afraid. Neither of the two sat well with me.

  “Lily...”

  Her fingers curled in her lap. “What if it’s someone close to me? What would that say about my judgment?”

  “You’re not blaming yourself for this.” That ball was squarely in my court.

  “Since you don’t know who it is, that’s easier said than done,” she murmured.

  I had no answer to that so I remained silent as we reboarded the plane and took off.

  There was very little in the way of conversation during the flight.

  Many times I opened my mouth to say something, then decided against it.

  Action, not platitudes.

  Maggie had lined up another SUV for us, and I hightailed it out of the airport with one eye on the police scanner on the dashboard. I wanted to get us to the cabin on the Nevada side of the lake as quickly as possible without attracting attention from the cops for speeding.

  Twenty minutes later I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the turnoff for the dirt track leading to the cabin. I’d kept it overgrown on purpose. There were no signposts or no trespassing warnings to attract inquisitive neighbors.