Razor's Edge

by Shannon K. Butcher

  They shut the door on their way out, leaving him alone with her ominous warning.

  Jake stripped off the gown, searching for signs of what they’d done to him. There were abrasions on his wrists and ankles. He had a bruise on the back of his hand where an IV had been. A patch on the back of his head had been shaved, and he felt an incision that had been stitched closed. He pressed around the area, but he couldn’t tell what they’d done. He didn’t know if they’d removed something, or put something in. Maybe they were just taking a peek inside, though he had no idea why anyone would want to do that.

  He went to the sink and gulped down some water. His stomach woke up as though he hadn’t eaten in a week. Maybe he hadn’t. He had no way to tell how long he’d been asleep.

  The door burst open and Jordyn rushed in, shutting it behind her. She saw he was naked, and her frantic movement stalled out for a moment.

  Jake covered his crotch with his hands. “Uh. Sorry.”

  A blush crept up her face, lending her pale skin a bit of color, but she otherwise ignored his nudity. “We have to hurry. Here, put these on.” She tossed him a sack filled with clothes.

  “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Yes, but there’s no time to explain. Please, Jake. Just dress. We have less than two minutes to get you out of the building before the security codes reset.”

  Out? He didn’t need to be told twice if that was the prize. He pulled on the pants and shoved his feet into too-small boots. The shirt could wait. “I need to get the others. Moss, Mac, and Evans.”

  “There’s no time for that.”

  “I can’t leave them here.”

  She glanced nervously at the door as if expecting company. “You don’t have a choice. There’s simply no time. Please, Jake.”

  He considered digging in his heels for a split second before he realized this might be his one chance to save them. If he was free, he could get help. He’d come back for them—heavily armed.

  Jake nodded. “Let’s go.”

  She flew out the door and raced down the hall at a dead run. Jake’s body was stiff, but he managed to keep up with her and not lose the unlaced boots.

  They took a couple of turns and came to a dead end that housed an elevator. Jordyn swiped her ID card through a slot, then pressed the card into his hands, along with a set of keys.

  Her hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her lips, normally a dark pink, were pale and dry. A blue vein in her temple pounded fast. He didn’t know what she’d done to make this possible, but it was clear the stress was taking its toll.

  She drew in his gaze, and he couldn’t help but stare as she gave him orders. “Go to level seven. Take a right. When the blue stripe of paint on the wall ends, take a left. My card will get you out through the door. These are the keys to the last car in row B. Drive west and don’t stop until you’re sure no one has followed you.”

  “You’re not coming with me?”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. You’ll have to stay in hiding. Mother will search for you now that she’s invested so much time, effort, and money.”

  “Come with me. I can’t leave you here.”

  “Eventually she’ll get bored, move on to a new experiment, and stop looking for you. If I go, she’ll never stop searching. You have to go alone.”

  The elevator let out a muted ding as it reached their floor.

  “I can’t leave you here,” said Jake.

  A flash of yearning crossed her face before she hid it. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll come back for you and the others,” he promised. “I won’t leave you here with that monster.”

  “She’s my mother.”

  “She’s a heartless bitch. She’ll kill you for helping me.”

  Jordyn’s eyes shimmered with tears. “She’ll only make me wish I were dead. I’ll survive it. I always do.”

  The doors hissed open. She grabbed his arm and pushed him inside, then pressed the button for level seven. Her slender fingers shook, and Jake wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. There was no time.

  He was going to find Dr. Stynger and kill the bitch. He was going to find her and choke her with his bare hands, breaking her skinny neck. “I’m coming back for you. We’ll storm this place and stop her.”

  She held up her hand, and tears slipped from her pale eyes. “Good-bye.”

  The doors slid shut. For a moment, he considered going back and tossing her over his shoulder. She might fight him, but at least he’d save her ass. Then he realized that his two minutes were nearly gone. She’d risked a lot to give him those two minutes, and he wasn’t going to recklessly toss her gift aside. This might be his one and only chance to rescue her and the men.

  Once he was free, he’d gather up an entire army to come back and clean this place out. Jordyn was tough. She’d been in her mother’s grip for years. She could hold out long enough for him to gather some men and weapons. He’d come back and save her and make sure she got a fucking medal for her bravery.

  Norma Stynger watched the cameras as S-eleven-sixteen got in one of her cars and drove away. His escape was Jordyn’s doing, but then Norma was counting on her daughter’s predicable weaknesses.

  “How did you get Jordyn to do it?” asked General Bower. “I figured she’d be too afraid of you to defy you.”

  “My daughter is defective. Despite my best efforts, she makes decisions based on emotions rather than logic. It’s a trait that makes her easy to manipulate.”

  “But she has to know what this will cost her. She’ll end up right back in the white room again.”

  Norma sighed in disappointment. “I refuse to give up on her. One day she’ll realize I only want her to succeed.”

  “I still don’t know how you did it.”

  “I sent a memo to research team A that the subject was to be scheduled for an autopsy.”

  “But he’s still alive.”

  Norma nodded. “I knew Jordyn had become attached to him and that she would help him escape if she thought his life was at risk.”

  S-eleven-sixteen was hers now. All she had to do was follow him and he’d lead her right to Roxanne Haught and the missing journal. Once that was destroyed and the subject was restrained once again, there would be no evidence floating about, unaccounted for. Her investors would be appeased, and the research could continue.

  “Will he do it?”

  “Of course. He’ll do whatever I tell him to do now.”

  “He didn’t seem to remember what you told him.”

  “If he had, he would have tried to kill me. At least until I triggered him.” Norma entered a code on her cell phone. The alarm sounded inside the compound—a bit of theater to add to the realism of his daring escape.

  “Are you sure he’s under control?” asked the general.

  “He could go to the police.”

  “No, he can’t,” she said, her confidence unshakable. She trusted her mentor’s notes implicitly, and while the procedure was risky, it appeared to be working as promised.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I told him not to. His orders are to steal a phone and call me as soon as possible.”

  “Orders won’t control a man like Staite.”

  Norma sighed, tired of the general’s endless skepticism. “Go and find Jordyn so we can deal with her punishment. She’ll be expecting you.”

  Roxanne dressed as fast as she could in the little motel bathroom. Clay had arrived, and Tanner said he’d stall him outside while she put herself back together.

  The sleep she’d managed to get had been much needed. While she wasn’t fully alert, she felt better than she had only a couple of hours ago—in every way except one.

  Tanner knew what she’d done. Would it change the way he looked at her, now that he knew she was a killer? Or even worse, a victim? The last thing she wanted from him was pity.

  She pressed a cold washcloth to her face, but it did little to ease her heated skin. She wasn
’t sure if it was from the shame burning within her, or from remembering his touch, his kisses. He’d worn her out, making her boneless with pleasure, and yet she hadn’t had enough. Not even close.

  The question was, had he had enough of her? Fucking a killer wasn’t exactly something most guys enjoyed, and the ones who did were not the kind of men she wanted to be with.

  Once they found Jake, she probably wouldn’t see him again. For now, he was assigned to babysitting her, but once that assignment was over, they’d go their separate ways. She’d have her missions; he’d have his. Chances were, their lives would not intersect, especially if Bella heard that they’d slept together.

  Roxanne wouldn’t lie about it, but she wasn’t going to flaunt it, either. She knew it was against the rules, but some things were worth the risk, and Tanner was definitely in that category.

  Even if he wasn’t repulsed by her, she knew they couldn’t date openly, like a normal couple. That was just a girlish fantasy.

  Unless she quit her job.

  She tried to picture it—doing something else. She could go back to school and get any degree she wanted. She could start her own business. But what about the friends she’d made at the Edge? And what could she possibly do that would give her the same thrills and sense of satisfaction as catching the bad guys?

  She was meant for this work. She loved it. And even if she started her own security company, it wouldn’t be the same. It would take years for her to build a client list, and thanks to the non-compete clause in her contract, she couldn’t be hired out by any of the Edge’s clients.

  She could move, but she couldn’t see either her or Tanner doing the long-distance relationship thing, so what would she gain?

  It was best to accept the fleeting nature of their liaison and enjoy it while it lasted. Unfortunately for any other men she might meet, she’d always judge them against Tanner. He was kind, honorable, and sexy as hell. Most men wouldn’t even be able to come close.

  That was going to have to be a problem for another day. Right now, she was up to her nose in problems, and needed to focus.

  Forgoing makeup and sweeping her hair into a simple ponytail, she straightened her rumpled clothes and went to face the men.

  Clay sat on the bed, slumped against the headboard. He was pale, almost gray. Both his eyes were black, and a cut on his cheek was red and swollen. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought something had scared him. He looked up at her as she came out of the bathroom. “Hey, Razor. How are you feeling?”

  “I should be asking you the same thing. You look like hell.”

  “It’s been a rough day. For all of us. At least I didn’t get shot.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just bruised.”

  “And concussed, most likely,” said Tanner.

  Her gaze strayed to him. He was standing with his feet braced and his arms crossed over his broad chest. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he stared. There were no obvious signs of revulsion, just his usual speculative interest.

  She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, feel him filling her until she thought she’d burst from the pleasure.

  Roxanne swallowed and looked away. She couldn’t see him and not want him, which was going to make things awkward if she didn’t find some self-control. “Can we focus on the job?”

  “Right,” said Clay. “I stole a car from one of the guys who followed us, and I found what I think is a tracking device. I pried it out of the glove box, hit a hardware store, and wrapped the sucker up in steel wool before shoving it in a thermos.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I left it in the car in case my efforts weren’t good enough. It could be a listening device, but since it was in a car . . .” He trailed off, shrugging.

  “You think that if we take it out of the thermos, they can track the signal.”

  “Right,” said Clay. “I figure we set up a trap and see if we can lure in someone who knows where Jake is.”

  Tanner shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work.”

  “Why not?” asked Roxanne.

  “Payton called while you were in the shower. I answered your phone, since it might be important. It was.”

  “What did he say?”

  “The soldier who attacked you at the storage facility—the one who went to the hospital—they questioned him.”

  “But that’s a good thing,” said Roxanne.

  “Not for him. You know that seizure the guy we captured had? It wasn’t a seizure. He was poisoned.”

  She took a step forward, angry at Tanner’s accusation. “No. Gage would never have done that to him. He’d never kill a man in cold blood like that.”

  Tanner held up his hands. “Gage didn’t do it. Someone else did.”

  “How? There was no one else there.”

  “There was some kind of capsule in his body. Payton isn’t sure exactly how it works, but apparently he’s seen it before.”

  “Seen what before?”

  “He said they used to put these poison capsules in spies so they could kill themselves if they were captured and tortured for information.”

  Shock exploded in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her voice came out in a low whisper. “You’re saying that the guy with Gage killed himself?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Clay had been silent until now, staring sightlessly at the rumpled bed. He lifted his head, and the look on his face was a disturbing mix of fear and anger. “Where was it?”

  “Where was what?”

  “The capsule. They found it, right?”

  Tanner nodded. “At the base of the skull. Why?”

  “Because someone who was bound to a chair would have had a hard time reaching that spot, and you wouldn’t want it to be too easy to trigger. You wouldn’t want the thing to burst accidentally when you were getting your head bashed in a fight.”

  “What are you saying, Clay?” she asked.

  “You said that your friend Jake was recruited into what he thought was some kind of secret special forces group, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And that he wasn’t alone? There were more men with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I was building a secret army of badasses for some nefarious purpose, I’d want a way to control the men.”

  Tanner’s body went still. “You think the poison is the control. Anyone steps out of line and they die.”

  Clay nodded. “It would be pretty fucking effective, don’t you think? I’d sure as hell think twice before trying anything.”

  Roxanne sank to the bed, struggling to keep herself from going to all the dark places this line of thought opened up. “How would they—whoever they are—have known that one of their men was going to talk?”

  Tanner stepped closer but didn’t touch her. She wished he would. To hell with what Clay thought. She needed his comfort right now—she needed to know he didn’t hate her for what she’s done. If these people were willing to kill their own men, Jake was in even more danger than she’d thought, and she wasn’t sure she could face that alone.

  “With the technology we have today,” said Clay, “who knows? Mira would have some ideas, but I’d really rather not ask her to think about it. It’s pretty dark shit. And she’s squeamish.”

  “Both men died while being questioned,” said Tanner. “Maybe it’s activated by a key word or phrase. They wouldn’t want it to respond to adrenaline or body temperature, since that could kill someone accidentally.”

  “My guess is that it’s activated remotely,” said Clay. “Or it goes off if someone is out of touch for too long. Maybe there’s some kind of reset switch that has to be triggered every few hours or days. If one of the men goes missing for too long, it’s activated.”

  She couldn’t stand to hear them talk anymore. Her stomach turned sour, and she started to shake. For all she knew, Jake had one of those things inside him right now. He could be walki
ng around with a ticking time bomb in his head.

  Roxanne lurched from the bed and moved away. There was nowhere to go in the small room, but she had to move, had to do something. “We can’t set a trap,” she told them as she paced. “We could kill another man if we do. Maybe more than one.”

  “These men aren’t innocent,” said Clay. “We’ve seen them in action.”

  “Jake is innocent. What if the rest of them started out the same way? They could be good men who were turned into something else. We can’t just keep killing them off in the hopes that one of them will give us information before he dies.”

  “Razor’s right,” said Tanner. “We need to find out how the poison thing works. Maybe we can block the signal or remove it before it’s activated.”

  He’d called her Razor, not Roxanne as he had when they’d been together earlier, before he knew about the scars. She tried not to read anything into it. She knew they had to keep their feelings hidden, but she missed the sound of her name coming from his lips.

  “I’ll call Payton,” said Clay. “Maybe he can find someone to analyze it and create countermeasures.”

  Roxanne’s phone rang, making her jump. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath before she pulled it from her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Rox? Is that you?” The voice filled the line, sounding like a chorus of angels.

  Tears welled up in Roxanne’s eyes, and relief at the sound of his voice clamped her throat closed for a moment. Seconds ticked by; yet she couldn’t find the breath to utter even a single word.

  “Rox? Are you there? It’s Jake. I’m in big trouble. I need you.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Tanner saw the color drain from Roxanne’s face. Her hand shook as she gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. He crossed the room, resisting the urge to snatch it from her grasp and snarl at the person on the other end—the one who’d clearly upset her.

  She looked up at him, her golden eyes full of tears and pleading for help.