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Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel

Page 13

by Shannon K. Butcher


  “I’m sorry to bother you,” said Leigh, “but I locked myself out of the car. My boyfriend went for a hike and has the keys. I hate to ask, but would you mind if I waited inside?”

  A look of maternal sympathy shaped the woman’s expression. “Poor thing. Of course. It’s too cold to be out this early. Come on in. I’ll make you something warm to drink.”

  Leigh stepped inside the cramped confines, noting the sweet little homey touches the woman had put up here and there. Pictures of what Leigh assumed were grandchildren dotted the little wall space available. Two bright yellow placemats sat on the fold-down table. On one of them was an open book of crossword puzzles.

  “Have a seat there by the window. You should be able to see your boyfriend coming off the path.”

  Leigh sat. She made small talk with the woman and gratefully drank the weakest coffee on the planet. An hour passed and Clay hadn’t yet appeared.

  The sun rose higher and glinted off something in the distance, near the exit to the camping area. It was a shiny new Mustang, just past some bushes that had obscured it. Now that she noticed it, she saw two men sitting in the front seat.

  They were waiting for Clay. She was sure of it, just as she was sure that as soon as he appeared on the trail, he’d be easily seen.

  “Is that the only trail leading here?” asked Leigh.

  The woman nodded, making her curlers bob. “It’s the only trailhead, but it forks a little ways in. You’re not thinking about going to look for your boyfriend, are you?”

  “It’s warming up. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

  “It’s no bother. Really.”

  Leigh glanced at gh warminthe Mustang again and tried to hide the wave of anxiety sweeping through her. “Thanks so much for your hospitality. It was lovely meeting you.”

  Before the woman could keep her any longer, Leigh rushed out into the cold and headed for the trailhead. She tried not to look like she was hurrying—tried to make her steps measured and methodical, rather than frantic. Her dressy flats were not meant for this kind of ground. Their slick bottoms kept slipping on the mulch covering the path.

  She could practically feel those men watching her. The urge to turn around and look was nearly overpowering, but she had no way of knowing if they were looking for her, too. If they knew her face, they might recognize her. As it was, all she’d let them see was the back of her head. She’d come out of an RV, not her car. Hopefully, that was enough to throw them off.

  If not, she

  was screwed, because her revolver was trapped in the trunk.

  The land dipped down. Ahead of her, she could see signs marking two distinct paths. She hadn’t been able to see those signs from the trailhead, so she took the chance of looking behind her. Sure enough, she’d gone downhill so far that the parking area was no longer visible. No one was behind her.

  Leigh didn’t dare take one of the forks. Fifty-fifty odds were not good enough for her. Instead, she headed off the path into the surrounding brush and found a place to hide from strangers while she waited for Clay.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Clay found nothing. He visited every area he’d been to before and hadn’t seen a single sign of blood or combat. That didn’t mean he hadn’t missed a bullet hole in a tree or something. There simply wasn’t time to scour every trunk and branch along the two-mile-long path.

  He needed to get back to Leigh. Every minute he was away from her piled up on top of him—a huge weight of anxiety growing heavier by the second.

  She’d almost certainly be up by now, and even though he’d left a note that she shouldn’t come after him, there was no guarantee she’d listen.

  Clay hurried back up the hill toward the parking area. Cold air burned his lungs as he pushed himself harder. He’d been neglecting his body too much lately—not eating or sleeping enough—and that was more than evident in his lack of stamina. If he was going to have any hope of keeping Leigh safe, he was going to have to get his act together. Her life could depend on his strength, and right now, she wasn’t in good hands.

  That was going to change.

  He’d just spotted the sign pointing to the parking area when he heard something in the brush to his left. His hand curled around the butt of his weapon, but he didn’t pull it out. There were too many people around who would be scared by the sight of his gun. And these days, he looked a little wild around the edges, like he might crack at any minute. The last thing he needed was to have the cops come rushing out here to find the deranged gunman slinking it d ’t come through the park.

  “Clay. It’s me.”

  He heard Leigh’s voice a second before he saw her pop up from behind a screen of brush. Her skin was ghostly pale, and fear hung around her eyes.

  His hand left his weapon, and he rushed toward her. “What’s wrong? What are you doing out here?”

  “I came to warn you.”

  “About what?”

  She teetered as she stepped over a fallen log. Clay grabbed her arm to steady her, and she fell against his chest with an audible sigh of relief. “I didn’t know what else to do but come out and try to stop you.”

  Her arms reached around him, hugging him. The soft press of her breasts against his ribs drove all other thoughts from his head for a moment. He was shocked by the contact, knocked off-kilter so hard, his head spun trying to figure out what to do.

  He wrapped his arms around her body, being careful not to get carried away. Her hug was one of relief. Nothing more. He couldn’t let himself get too swept away by something so innocent and simple, no matter how good it felt or how hard it was now to concentrate.

  “There are two men in the parking lot. I saw one of them come out from under my car. I don’t know what he did, but it can’t be good.”

  That news got Clay’s head back into the game. He pulled her away by the arms so he wouldn’t be distracted by the dizzying rush of having her curves plastered against him.

  A slight wince tightened the skin around her eyes, and she pulled her shoulders up as if trying to avoid his grip.

  Clay immediately loosened his hold. “Did they see you?”

  “I don’t think so. I was in the bathroom. I used a mirror to watch them from the other side of a wall.”

  Smart. “I’ll deal with this. Stay here and hide again. I’ll come back for you as soon as I take care of the threat.”

  “You can’t. The men are still there, sitting in their car by the exit. I think they’re waiting for you. They’ll see you as soon as you walk up the hill.”

  There was only one way out of the camping area, and that was assuming the car was safe to use—which it wasn’t.

  “I’ll cut through the trees and come out near their car. Exactly where was it?”

  “It looked like they’d pulled off the road where it turns into the parking area. They’re in a new black Mustang.”

  “And there were two of them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see any weapons?”

  She shook her head. Little bits of dried leaves clung to her hair. He pulled them out, careful not to tug on the red strands.

  “I don’t want you to go,” said Leigh. “What if something happens and you go . . . empty again?”

  She’d nearly said crazy but stopped herself at the last moment. He could hear it in the pause between words and the subtle change in her mouth’s shape. If he hadn’t been watching her pink lips so closely, he might not have seen it at all. At least his raging hormones were good for something.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

  “All the more reason for you to wait here, out of harm’s way. If I do snap, I don’t want you around.”

  “What about the nice old couple in the RV? Will you go after them? Will you hurt someone else? If I’m with you, at least I can stop you.”

  “But at what risk to yourself?”

  “At le
ast I know the risks. Those other people will have no clue until it’s too late.”

  He wasn’t going to let her come with him. Not this time. The bruises she wore were a stark reminder of what could happen. No amount of makeup could hide that. “Stay here. If I’m not back in an hour, then call Payton.”

  Clay heard a noise behind him and spun around to face it. There, a few yards away, slinking through the brush, was a man in a black jacket.

  Clay gave Leigh a solid push toward her hiding place. “Hide.”

  He didn’t know if she obeyed or not, but he had no attention to spare right now. Another movement on his left caught his eye, and he knew there were at least two of them.

  A buzzing haze hovered over him, threatening to steal his control. He fought it off, shoving it away, but not nearly far enough. He could feel the threat hanging there, just out of reach.

  “I see you,” he said as he moved away from Leigh, drawing their attention to him. “I will shoot.” His weapon was up and ready, but he had yet to pick his target.

  “Don’t shoot,” said the closer man. “We’re not here to hurt you.” His voice was familiar, tickling Clay’s memory with a name he couldn’t quite recall.

  The man stepped out of the trees, his hands held high. He had a crooked nose and a deeply receding hairline that made his forehead look like a fleshy horseshoe.

  “Tell your friends to come out where I can see them.”

  “Come on out, Buddy. Don’t make Marshall shoot me.”

  Buddy. The name pulled at Clay’s memory, tugging on a thread. He felt a brief flicker of companionship for the man but could not for the life of him recall who he was.

  Buddy did as Horseshoe Head said. Clay waved the tip of his gun. “Get over there.”

  Buddy complied, keepingpli">B his hands in sight.

  “What do you want?” asked Clay.

  “Doc put a price on your head. We figured we’d come out and see if you can beat his offer. If so, we’ll let you go.”

  Whoever this doctor was—assuming it was the same man who had Clay collecting children—there was no way Clay was walking back into his grasp. Still, their use of his last name, the same way Anton had done, made him wonder if he hadn’t had dealings with them during one of his blackouts.

  “What’s he offering?” asked Clay, more to give Leigh time to get away than because he cared.

  “Fifty grand.”

  “And you think I have that kind of cash on me?”

  Horseshoe Head shrugged. “Guy like you’s gotta have some hidey-holes with cash stashed here and there.”

  A guy like him? Apparently, these men knew him better than he knew them.

  The sway of branches in the brush showed the path of Leigh’s progress. She was staying low and out of sight. All he had to do was keep these assholes chatting for a bit longer and she’d be home free.

  “How did you find me?” he asked.

  “Doc said you might be here. Said he sent you on a job here a couple of nights ago—thought you might come back to clean up after it.”

  “What job?” Clay asked before he could stop himself. As much as he craved information, he couldn’t let these men know that he wasn’t this Marshall guy they thought they knew. That could be dangerous. If they were willing to deal with Marshall, then that’s who Clay would be for as long as it took Leigh to get out of here.

  Horseshoe Head frowned in confusion. “How the hell should I know?”

  Buddy had been watching him closely. “He doesn’t remember.”

  “You’re one of them?” asked Horseshoe Head. He was starting to look worried, like he was suddenly standing with the wrong man.

  The movement in the brush stopped. Leigh wasn’t nearly far enough away yet. She wasn’t even out of range of stray bullets.

  Clay struggled for a way to alleviate these men’s suspicions. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Are we making a deal here or not?”

  “Depends,” said Horseshoe Head. “You got the cash?”

  “Yes,” lied Clay.

  “Good. We’ll just keep the woman here with us until you can get it and bring it back.”

  Like hell. The last thing he’d let these assholes do was touch Leigh. He didn’t even like it that they knew she existed.

  The sway of brush started again, and she was moving much faster. He winced inwardly, hoping she wouldn’t draw any atwidth="2ettention to herself. As long as he kept their focus on him, he had to believe she’d be safe.

  Clay shrugged as if he didn’t care. “I don’t even know her last name. We’re not exactly close enough for me to ask her to play hostage.”

  He didn’t come out and say that she wasn’t enough to guarantee his cooperation. It was better to let them reach that conclusion on their own.

  “I told you he was with a woman,” said Buddy. “High heels in the backseat weren’t big enough for Marshall here.”

  “I owe you twenty,” said Horseshoe Head to Buddy. Then he looked at Clay. “Forget the woman. We’ll all take a trip together.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Clay, lifting his weapon and training it on Horseshoe Head. “I’m the one with the gun. What’s to keep me from shooting both of you?”

  “No way you can hit both of us before we take you out.” His voice was calm, laced with the certainty of a man who had nothing to prove. “And then there’s the noise. One of those old fogies up top is bound to have their hearing aid in. The cops will shut the park down and you’ll have no way out.”

  “Neither will you,” said Clay.

  “Doc will take care of us. You’ve gone rogue, so I doubt you can say the same thing.” He opened his jacket, revealing his holstered weapon. “But I’m willing to chance it if you are.”

  The buzzing haze slid over his mind like a swarm of bees. His whole body vibrated with the urge to give in and let go.

  With a snarl of rage, Clay fought back the compulsion. He would not lose control. He would not put Leigh in that kind of danger again.

  Her path had circled around when he wasn’t looking, and now the brush near Buddy was rustling in that all-too-familiar way. She was so close that he didn’t dare fire on the man for fear of hitting her.

  Clay wanted to scream at her to run. He had no idea what she thought she was doing sneaking up on an armed man like that. As the brush swayed slightly, her intent became all too clear. She was headed right into trouble.

  He had to do something—take these men down or find a way to get them out of here. The only option he could think of was the one he had wanted most to avoid.

  “Fine,” he said, lowering his weapon. “Fifty thousand is no problem. Let’s just go and get this over with. I have things to do.”

  Horseshoe Head gave him a good-natured grin. “That’s the spirit. No reason for bloodshed among friends. Everyone gets what he wants.”

  “Except the doc,” said Buddy.

  Leigh had somehow managed to get close enough to Horseshoe Head that Clay could see her face through the dead weeds. Determination shaped her mouth, but her skin was pale with fear.

  “Yeah, well, he’s got it coming after that thing he had Marshall do last month.”

  width="2em">Clay had no idea what the man was talking about, but he didn’t dare ask any more questions. “We should go.” And get away from Leigh as fast as possible.

  Horseshoe Head waved his hand, indicating that Clay should go first. In that same moment, Leigh lunged out from her concealed position and hit Horseshoe Head in the back.

  He pulled his weapon and swung around to face her. His spin went too far, and he started to tilt sideways. Leigh jumped back as he crashed into the brush. A syringe was sticking out of his ass.

  Buddy drew steel and aimed for Leigh. Clay didn’t think—he simply charged.

  The buzzing in his head became a roar. As milliseconds passed and he flew through the air, he felt his control slipping away. Leigh had used her drugs on the other man. She had none left to stop Clay from
hurting her again.

  He couldn’t give in to the noise and the pressure growing inside his skull. Not now, when she was so close.

  Clay hit Buddy hard, taking him down. The gun flew away in a metallic spiral. Clay didn’t see the fist coming toward his head, but he felt the jarring impact against his jaw. He’d been in enough fights to know better than to slow down and catalog the damage. Instead, he shot back with his own attack, going for a hard strike to the other man’s throat.

  Buddy rolled away, holding his neck. His face turned red and his mouth gaped open as he struggled to suck in air. Clay didn’t wait for him to pass out. He slammed his elbow into the man’s temple, rendering him unconscious. Chances were his throat was crushed and he wouldn’t ever wake up, but after pointing a weapon at Leigh, it was exactly what he deserved.

  Leigh scrambled from the brush and raced to where Clay stood. She was shaking hard, and so pale he could count every one of her freckles. Fear and horror haunted her dark eyes. Her hands fluttered over his face as if making sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  “Are you okay?”

  Clay gave a tight nod. Adrenaline and rage were still riding him hard, making him want to lash out and crush something with his bare hands. The buzzing roar in his head was quieting more with every breath, but it wasn’t gone yet. He had to fight it every step of the way, and until it was gone, he didn’t trust himself.

  He took a long step back, moving out of her reach. “Stay here,” he barked. Then he went to each man, patting down their pockets. He found car keys, which he flung into the brush. The cash he pocketed. Their wallets, complete with their IDs, went into Clay’s pocket for disposal elsewhere.

  Leigh bent over Buddy, feeling for a pulse. “He’s dead.”

  Clay said nothing. He simply grabbed Buddy by the arms and started dragging him into the woods.

  She followed him. “What are you doing?”

  “Someone could walk by at any minute. I’m not leaving their bodies out in the open.”

  “What about him?” she asked, pointingskee=" to Horseshoe Head. His ID had listed his name as Lew Argel, but the chances of that being his real name were slim.

 

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