Edge of Surrender

by Laura Griffin

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look upset.”

  “I’m just . . . worried.”

  “We can bail on this if you want,” Ryan said. “The feds are already gathering evidence against Conner. This meeting could speed things along, but you’re not required to help with their investigation.”

  “I want to help. What do you think they need me to do?”

  “This guy Jones has some surveillance pictures to show you. Mays will be there, too, and she wants to determine if you recognize Avedo Senior or Oscar Guinto from anywhere, if you ever saw them in the presence of Richard Conner. This guy Guinto, he’s high up in the ACB. If they can link him to the ambassador, it would be a major break in the investigation.”

  “But I may not recognize him. I mean, I spent a lot of time with the Conners, but it’s not like I knew every one of their associates.”

  “Odds are you know something or saw something, and it could be something you’re not even aware of,” Ryan said. “What Renee Conner knew got her killed. I wouldn’t underestimate how badly these guys want to eliminate anyone who poses a threat.”

  The words hung there in the truck as Emma drove. With every minute that ticked by, she was getting more and more nervous about this meeting.

  “Change lanes,” Ryan said.

  “What?”

  “Be subtle about it. Shift to the middle.”

  Emma cast a glance in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. She hadn’t noticed anyone following them, and she’d been looking. “What is it?” She glanced in the mirror again.

  “Gray Pathfinder, three cars back. God damn it.”

  “You want me to get off before the bridge?”

  “Too late. Just . . . chill. Get back in the left lane, and speed up a little. We’ll see what he does.”

  Emma changed lanes and sped up, her heart racing now as she eyed the gray Pathfinder in the rearview mirror. It didn’t change lanes, but it definitely picked up speed.

  “Ah, fuck me,” Ryan muttered. He pulled his phone out and texted something.

  “They’re following us?”

  “Yes.”

  “But how could they find us? No one knows about my sublet.”

  “I don’t know. Shit. Yes, I do. Those boxes in your hallway. Where are they from?”

  “They were shipped from Seattle.”

  “All of them?”

  Realization hit, and Emma felt queasy. This was her fault. “There’s a box from the embassy,” she said. “They sent me some personal items from my desk. Conner must have found out my forwarding address and—what are you doing?” Her stomach flip-flopped as Ryan pulled out his gun.

  “Calm down, I’m just being cautious.”

  She eyed the mirror again. “He’s closing in on us.” Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Should I get off or pull over? What should I do?”

  “Don’t pull over. Sit low in your seat.”

  The vehicle in front of her braked. Emma’s nerves skittered as she noticed the dark-tinted windows. Ryan noticed, too.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “That car in front of us is part of this, too, isn’t it?” It was a black Escalade, and it slowed again. Emma instinctively swerved around it.

  “Listen to me, Emma. Don’t panic. You can do this.”

  “Do what? What am I doing?”

  “I want you to—”

  The back window burst.

  “Get down!” Ryan jerked her down by her shirtfront and grabbed the steering wheel.

  “I can’t see!” she shrieked.

  “I’ll steer. Just stay down!”

  Another earsplitting pop.

  Emma punched the gas, but then she was right up on the bumper of the black Escalade.

  From the passenger side, an orange muzzle flash.

  Ryan jerked the wheel, swerving into the middle lane. Horns blared. Emma’s heart pounded wildly as she peered above the steering wheel. The Escalade swerved into the lane directly ahead of them.

  “We have to get off!” she yelled. “How far till the bridge ends?”

  “Too far.” Ryan was still steering for her, making his head a target. The Pathfinder was directly to their right now. A window in back slid down, and a black rifle barrel poked out.

  “Ryan!” She slammed on the brakes. Horns blared.

  A squeal of brakes from the Pathfinder. A staccato of gunfire. Emma screamed, and Ryan returned fire with his pistol.

  Emma jabbed the accelerator. The Pathfinder caught up and tried to muscle them into the left lane.

  “Stay down, Emma!” Ryan fired at the driver. The Escalade lurched forward and swerved into their lane. Emma glanced in the side mirror and caught a blue sedan coming up fast behind them. Thank God, police!

  But that hope was dashed when a black gun barrel jutted out from the passenger window. “Another one behind us!” she yelled. “They’ll run us off the road!”

  “We’re going to let them.”

  “What?”

  “Drive off the bridge,” he ordered.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “We’re outgunned, Emma. Drive off the bridge, and we’ll swim to shore.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “They’ll never expect it. And they won’t follow.”

  “I’m not driving—”

  “Emma, we’re surrounded by three cars and half a dozen machine guns. Our best chance is the water.”

  “But—”

  Ryan’s window shattered. He whirled around to return fire. Another spray of bullets, this one from the Escalade in front of them.

  Ryan clutched his shoulder, and Emma’s heart lurched. “You’re hit! Oh my God, let me pull over.”

  “No!” Blood streamed through his fingers, but he didn’t even look at the wound. “On three, I want you to punch the gas while I cut across the lanes, okay? We have to get out of here.”

  “Ryan, I love you. Please let me pull over and help you.”

  “Emma, listen to me! On three, you hit the gas. One. Two. Three!”

  She jabbed the accelerator as Ryan jerked the steering wheel. They careened across two lanes. Metal shrieked as they smashed into the concrete wall and kept going.

  Emma’s stomach dropped, and everything went blue—blue sky, blue water, everything blue, blue, blue, as they sailed through the abyss.

  They hit with a skull-rattling impact, and for a moment she saw stars. And then she was surrounded by water, cold and dark and filling up the truck cab.

  Ryan was reaching for her, yelling instructions. She saw his lips move, but she couldn’t hear the words, and the icy water surrounded her, and she was sinking, sinking, sinking, faster than she would have dreamed possible.

  Seat belt.

  The thought popped into her brain just as the icy water closed over her head. She reached for the latch, struggling with the button. She wrestled free of the belt as a big hand clamped around her arm.

  Ryan.

  He was pulling her. Something sharp jabbed her arm. And he was pulling again, dragging her through the cold darkness and toward the light. She kicked her legs, desperate to help him as they went up, up, up, and finally broke the surface.

  Air!

  It felt like razors in her lungs. Salt stung her eyes, her nose, her throat. A strong arm wrapped around her body as she choked and coughed.

  “Emma, hold on!”

  She grabbed onto him as he surged through the water. It was cold. Stunningly cold. And in seconds, she could barely feel her legs. She struggled to kick, to help propel them forward, but the waves were choppy, and saltwater pelted her face as she tried to look around.

  “Breathe, Emma.”

  She clutched his arm, kicking as hard as she could with numb legs.

  “That’s it.�
�

  They moved swiftly through the current, as if he knew where they were going. And then she saw it. A boat. It was small and far away, but it was a boat, and the people in it were waving their arms.

  “That’s our ride,” he said, gasping. “You see it?”

  She squeezed his arm. “Yes,” she choked, getting a mouthful of brine. His grip tightened, and she saw that the water around her was red. “Ryan. Ryan!”

  He was bleeding. His arm, his shoulder. She couldn’t tell where the blood was coming from, but it was a lot. His face looked pained, and he seemed to be struggling for air as he reached through the water, dragging her with him. She kicked her legs as hard as she could, trying to help get them to the boat, but it was too far away.

  Ryan’s strokes slowed. Emma felt a cold shot of fear, even colder than the water. She kicked and kicked with all her might. Waves churned around her, slapping at her as she pulled toward the little skiff. It was a fishing boat, and finally she heard the hum of the engine as it drew near. A wave tossed them, loosening her grip on Ryan as the boat swept up beside them.

  The men leaned over, reaching for them, and Ryan seemed to snap into action again, gripping Emma by the waist and pushing her up and into their arms.

  “No, take him first! He’s hit!”

  A wave smacked her, and the words were lost.

  ELEVEN

  * * *

  Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, bristling with energy and watching the clock. He hated waiting almost as much as he hated hospitals. Footsteps in the hallway had him turning around.

  “Good morning.” Special Agent Mays stepped into the room and glanced at her watch. “Or should I say afternoon?” She smiled tiredly. Her clothes looked tired, too, as though she’d spent the night at her office. “How’s the gunshot wound?”

  “Fine.”

  “And the concussion?”

  “Fine.”

  “Really? You look worse than yesterday.” She stepped closer and examined the purple bump on his head that had prompted the ER doc to make him stay overnight. The bullet he’d taken during the car chase was little more than a flesh wound, fortunately.

  After interviewing him for hours in his cramped hospital room, the FBI agents had cleared out, and Emma had appeared at the door. She’d fretted over his injuries and then slipped into bed with him, where she’d stayed up late watching CNN and resisting his attempts to get to second base. Finally, they’d drifted off to sleep, only to be prodded awake by nurses. Emma was at the FBI office now for another round of interviews, and she’d promised to be back by lunchtime, but maybe she was having second thoughts.

  “So,” Mays said, looking him over, “I thought you might be gone by now.”

  “I did, too.” Ryan glanced at the door again. “Just waiting for discharge papers.”

  “Well, I’ll keep it brief. I wanted to update you on what happened since our last interview. We arrested Ricky Avedo.”

  Ryan arched his eyebrows.

  “One of the gunmen we apprehended yesterday—the one in the black Escalade? He flipped. He has a really long rap sheet, so we used that as leverage. He basically gave up Avedo, said he was hired along with five others to pull off the hit on Emma.”

  Hearing the words hit and Emma in the same sentence made Ryan’s stomach clench.

  “And that’s not all. We picked up Conner at LAX. He was getting on a plane to Rio after purchasing a one-way ticket last night.”

  “Rio?”

  “Think he got word that everything was falling apart, then panicked and decided to make a break for it. We’re not sure what exactly his plan was, but it probably involved some plastic surgery and going into hiding. When we confronted him with all the evidence we have about his ties to the Avedo family, he crumpled and gave a full confession, much to the dismay of his lawyer.”

  “What happens now?”

  “He’ll get some leniency in exchange for his cooperation against the Avedo family. Ricky Avedo’s the head of a vast criminal enterprise we’ve been after for years. He’s the big fish here.” She smiled slightly. “And now we have him cold.”

  “What about Emma?” Ryan glanced at the door again.

  “What about her?”

  “Have you offered her any kind of witness protection?”

  A nurse bustled in with a stack of papers. Ryan stood up.

  “Here we go.” She handed him the paperwork. “Signed, sealed, and delivered. You feeling okay, hon?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We’ll see you in two weeks for a follow-up.”

  No, she wouldn’t, but Ryan kept his mouth shut.

  “Anything else we can do for you, sailor?” she asked.

  “I’m all set, thanks.”

  “Don’t be stopping any more bullets, now.”

  “I won’t.” When she was gone, he folded the paperwork and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans, then turned to Mays. “You were saying? About witness protection?”

  “She doesn’t need it. She’s not a witness.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We have Conner. And he’s backed up his confession with a paper trail. We have plenty to take down Avedo without involving Emma, at this point.”

  “You’re sure? I’m concerned about her safety.”

  She smiled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, just—” She shrugged. “That’s a little ironic coming from someone in your line of work. Didn’t your team just get called out?”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Around. I take it you managed to get cleared for duty?”

  “Yep.”

  Emma stepped through the doorway, and Ryan felt a jolt of relief. She had a phony smile on her face, and she exchanged greetings with Mays before settling her gaze on Ryan.

  “Ready to go?” she asked, a little too cheerfully.

  Mays politely ducked out, leaving them alone in the little room, with CNN droning in the background. Ryan tugged Emma against him and kissed her forehead. Damn, she smelled good.

  “You showered,” he said.

  “I swung by my hotel in San Diego and checked out.” Her gaze went to the bandage on his upper arm. “How are the stitches?”

  “Fine.”

  “How’s the bump?”

  “Can’t even feel it.”

  He took her hand, and they walked down a hallway crowded with nurses and orderlies. She didn’t say anything as they rode the elevator downstairs and exited the hospital into the blazing afternoon sun.

  Emma tipped her head back and looked up. Then she looked at Ryan.

  “So you mind giving me a ride home?” he asked.

  Another phony smile. “That’s why I’m here.”

  He pulled her closer. “You mind telling me what’s wrong first?”

  “Nothing.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place as people walked around them on the sidewalk. Her eyes were brown and beautiful and loaded with worry. “Talk to me.”

  She huffed out a sigh. “Nothing’s wrong. If you want to ignore a gunshot wound and a concussion and go rushing back to work before you’re ready, it’s none of my business.”

  He tugged her out of the traffic flow and onto a patch of grass. “I’m not ignoring anything.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She tensed at first. But then she relaxed against him and let him taste her. She was sweet and soft and warm, and it only took a second for his entire body to lock in on one objective. He needed her. Needed, not wanted. It wasn’t a choice. No matter how much he got of her, he still needed more.

  She pulled back and gazed up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. Damn it, this sucked.

  “I have to leave tomorrow,” he said.

>   “I know.” Her voice hitched. “When?”

  “I report at 0600.” He kissed her again. He wanted to memorize her taste and her mouth, and the feel of her soft, perfect body pressed against him. He wanted to memorize all of her to keep him going through the days ahead.

  She pulled back. “Ryan—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. “Come home with me.”

  His chest felt tight as he held his breath and waited.

  “I need you, Emma.” He kissed her again. “Come home with me.”

  ———

  Jake’s patience paid off when Alexa stepped out of the elevator. She looked tired and more than a little bit wary as she approached her boxy gray Taurus. She stopped in front of him.

  “You make a habit of lurking around hospital parking garages?”

  “I came by to see Ryan and spotted your car.” He smiled. “Where you headed?”

  “Home.”

  “How about dinner?”

  “It’s four o’clock.”

  “How about a drink, then?”

  Her eyebrows tipped up. “It’s four o’clock.”

  “Come on, loosen up.” He pushed off the car and stepped closer. “Besides, I’m on leave.”

  “I’m not.”

  He eased closer, gazing down into those pretty blue eyes. “You should be. You look tired.”

  “I haven’t slept in two days.”

  “Good time for a break, then.”

  She sighed heavily and looked around, as if someone might see her standing around wasting time on a workday. She glanced up.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He smiled. “I know a place on the beach. Best fish tacos in town. Half-price pitchers on Thursdays.”

  “Ernie’s. I know it.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I have about ten hours of paperwork waiting for me back in LA.”

  “Let it wait.”

  “I haven’t showered since Tuesday.”

  “Do I look like I care?”

  She sighed. “You’re leaving soon. Wouldn’t you rather be at some bar with your buddies, picking up girls?”