Rough Edges (14 page)

B
ella had gone over the edge. There was no other possible explanation for her actions now. If Victor didn't do something fast, there were going to be two dead bodies to deal with instead of just one.

“You keep explosives at home?” he asked.

“Stable ones, yes. It's all perfectly safe and locked away behind a steel door.”

“Explosives are only as stable as the hands of the person in which they rest. I'm not sure if you're aware or not, but you're a little . . . edgy right now.”

“I'm a hell of a lot more than merely edgy. I'm pissed as hell and scared to death that a good man's life is on the line. Payton has been keeping too many secrets and holding too much control. That ends now.”

“Okay. Fine. We put a stop to it, but perhaps not armed with explosives, toting a dead man who deserves to be treated with more respect than this. Someone loved him the way you love Gage.”

The truck slowed as she eased off the accelerator. In her reflection in the rearview mirror, he could see her eyes glisten with tears. “What do you propose?”

“We take him to Dr. Leigh. She'll have connections to take care of his body properly. We'll demand that Payton pay for a burial and notify his family of his passing. I'm sure he'll be able to come up with some plausible cover story.”

“More lies.”

“Yes, but ones that will give a family comfort.”

“And what about Gage's family?” she asked. “What about us?”

Victor ached to comfort her—to touch her shoulder and let her know that she wasn't completely alone—but his hands were covered in blood and he couldn't bring himself to let that reach her. “We'll find him. Things have changed. Payton will give in to our demands.”

“And if he doesn't?”

“I'll hold him still while you insert the C4. I'll even bring the lube.”

She let out a long breath and caught his gaze in the mirror. She was calmer now. Her hands were steadier. He even saw a hint of humor brighten her gray eyes. “Payton doesn't deserve lube.”

“Probably not. But give him a chance to do the right thing.”

“He's had so many chances, Victor. How many more should he get?”

“How many would you want if you were him?”

She let out a long breath that made her shoulders droop. “Fine. We'll go see Leigh. Then Payton. But if things don't go well, she's going to have more than one body to explain to the authorities.”

“You're not going to kill Payton.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do. I've worked with you long enough to know that, while you may struggle with self-control, you always do the right thing in the end.”

She pulled into Leigh's office and shoved the gearshift into park. Dawn was just beginning to break, and the streets were still quiet. The office was at the edge of a residential area, only a few blocks from where Leigh lived with her husband Clay.

“Always is a strong word,” she said.

“And you're not a strong woman? I thought you were.”

“Enough with the flattery. You're covered in blood and we're far too exposed here to suit me. Run inside and ask Leigh to come out with a wheelchair or something. I'm sure she'll let you wash up.”

Before he could get out of the truck, Leigh hurried down the ramp leading to her office. Her husband pushed a gurney in her wake. He worked at the Edge too, and had proved to be a formidable ally in the couple of jobs Victor had done with him.

Right now he was hovering at his wife's side, his gaze watchful over the surrounding area. “One of Stynger's?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bella said.

To her credit, Dr. Vaughn didn't ask a single question about what had happened to the man once she felt for his pulse and found it missing. It hardly mattered now how he'd gotten this way. There was nothing she could do.

“Let's get him out of sight,” said Clay. “I've background checked all the neighbors, but I still don't like the idea of a bunch of busybodies causing Leigh trouble.”

They all funneled inside. The place smelled like a mix of scented candles and disinfectant. Soft, neutral colors warmed the space and almost made a person forget that it was chilly in here. Beyond the waiting area, which was more for appearances than function, was a series of rooms on one side of a hallway. They went past a couple of examination rooms, past what looked like a small operating room, and all the way to the end of the hall.

Leigh opened the door and a blast of cold air spilled out. “I'll keep him in here until it's time to move him.”

“What are you going to do with the body?” asked Bella.

“Payton always makes sure that the victims of the Threshold Project get a proper burial. We've been through this before. Too many times.”

“You smell like smoke and are covered in soot. Was there a fire?” asked Clay.

“There was,” Victor said. “We couldn't get all the men out.”

Leigh gasped. “They died in a fire?”

“They were shot. The fire was just the cleanup crew,” Bella said.

Leigh glanced at Victor, then Bella. “You're both a mess. There's a shower in the bathroom behind reception you can use. There are scrubs in the cabinet you can change into.”

“You go first,” Bella said. “Blood will raise more questions than soot if someone happens to come for a visit.”

“Are you expecting company?” asked Clay, reaching to the small of his back for his weapon.

“No. But that doesn't mean we won't have any. It's been a hell of a night.”

“There's a couch in the waiting area and a bed in the recovery room,” Leigh said. “You can stay here as long as you like. Or you could come back to the house with us.”

“Thanks,” Bella said, “but I don't want to impose. As soon as we get cleaned up, we'll get out of your hair.”

“How are your wounds?” Leigh asked. “That surgical glue won't hold up if you keep going at this pace.”

“I'm fine,” Bella said, giving her standard answer.

“You won't be if you break those cuts open. You've got to take it easy.”

“I will.”

“Liar,” Victor said, earning himself a warning glare.

“I'm being as careful as I can be under the circumstances.”

“Your truck is covered in blood,” Clay said. “I'll take it home and detail it in the garage, out of sight. You can use my wheels until it's done.”

Bella nodded and sagged with fatigue. “Thanks. That would be a big help. As soon as I get cleaned up, I have things to do.”

Clay frowned as he tossed her his keys. “It's barely dawn. What could you possibly have to do right now?”

“Stynger is still out there. Gage is still missing. Until that changes, I need to stay busy and keep looking. This attack tonight might generate some leads.”

Clay nodded in understanding. “I'm close if you need help.”

Bella offered him a halfhearted smile. “Thanks, hon. That means a lot.”

“You two stay as long as you like,” Leigh said. “I'll close the office until the body is delivered to the family. We don't need any pesky questions.”

“Thank you,” Victor said as he followed them out and locked the office door.

The space was quiet and dim. He was acutely aware of being alone in the same room with a woman who claimed his attention like no one else ever had. It didn't matter that they'd fought for their lives only a short time ago, or that he was covered in blood and soot. It didn't matter that she was strung so tight she looked like she might break. He still couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She stood near a window, peering through the blinds. The muted sound of two car doors shutting seeped in from the parking lot. He could hear Bella's truck start and the engine noise fade as Clay and Leigh drove away.

Still, Bella didn't move. Her gaze was watchful, her body language tight and rigid. If he hadn't known better, he would have said she was afraid.

“Do you think we were followed?” he asked.

She didn't look his way as she responded. “Someone killed those men and set fire to the place. We didn't take them all down before they could escape. At least one of them got away. It would be stupid to assume no one followed us.”

“I was looking for a tail when we left and didn't see one.”

“Doesn't mean they're not there. Go clean up. I'll keep watch.”

He almost balked at the order, preferring instead to stay and seek some way to calm her nerves. But the only thing he could think of to relax her was not something he'd do while covered in blood.

“I'll be quick so you can shower, too,” he said.

She gave an absent nod as she took up a position watching the street. “No rush,” she said, but her gun was in her hand and it was shaking.

He'd never seen her like this before. She was always calm under stress, or more accurately, reveled in it. This frenetic kind of energy she was putting off wasn't like her at all.

He took one of the fastest showers of his life, scrubbing away all the grim reminders of the night. When he came out, Bella was exactly where he'd left her, monitoring the entrance.

“Your turn,” he said.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around, aiming her weapon at him. The barrel lifted an instant after she realized who he was. “Not healthy to sneak up on an armed woman like that.”

“I wasn't sneaking. You're just on edge. Want to talk about it?”

She ran her fingers through her glossy black hair, smoothing away some of the tangles tonight's chaos had left behind. “What's there to say? We had several men alive and able to give us information only a few hours ago. They're all dead now.”

“Except for the man Payton transported,” he reminded her.

She flinched at the mention of Payton's name. “If you think he's going to let us talk to the guy, you're insane. He's going to do what he always does and keep me in the dark for as long as possible. I swear it gives him some kind of high to be such a control freak.”

“A man who spends his life keeping big secrets can't afford
not
to be a control freak.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Or play along. He's going to give us full access to that man or I'm going to take down his precious secret holding facility. The place is little more than a prison, anyway.”

“We need some place to put the people who were too damaged by Stynger's experiments to live in the outside world.”

Her lips went tight and she scowled at him with so much force, he was sure he felt a hot wind coming off of her. “You're taking his side? How could you?”

“I'm not picking sides at all. I'm simply pointing out the fact that we can't have deranged madmen roaming about freely, even if we all wish they hadn't been made that way on purpose.”

Bella shook her head. “You know we're going to have to pull out the big guns to get Payton to cooperate, right?”

“How can you know that? You haven't even asked him to speak to the man yet.”

“I know Payton. You'll see. He'll feed us a line of bullshit about protecting innocents and not risking compromising the facility's location, but what he really means is that he likes pulling all the strings. My guess is that it'll take a battering ram to get through the front door.”

“You've got to find some calm, Bella. Control yourself.”

“You think I lack self-control?” she asked. “If that's the case, then why didn't I blow that man's brains all over my back window? I knew the information in his head was important, so I didn't shoot him when he was choking you to death.”

“I had it under control.”

“Of course you did. You always do. Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected. Never raising your voice or misbehaving. There's no way all that restraint is healthy for a man. Your blood pressure must be off the charts.”

“There are other ways of coping with stress that don't involve high explosives, weapons or a sparring ring.”

“Name one.”

“There are several, but since I don't think healthy adult conversation will count as a valid answer for a woman like you, I'll move straight to sex as a means to cope with stress.”

“Okay. You have me there. Sex works. But that whole adult conversation thing? Total waste of time.”

“You don't know until you try. Perhaps you should practice with Payton by asking him nicely to visit the prisoner.”

She shot Victor a scathing look. “You think you're funny, don't you?”

“No, I'm trying to be serious. I can tell how on edge you've been these past few weeks. Tonight it's worse than I've ever seen. If you don't do something to control it, it's going to control you.”

“I'm dealing. That's what adults do. We suck it up and deal and don't waste time discussing all the touchy-feely crap that really doesn't matter in the end. It makes no difference how I feel, only that I do the right thing, whether or not I feel like doing it. It's not like I take pleasure in the idea of hurting a man who I once thought of as a father figure. But I will if that's what it takes to get a lead on Gage so we can bring him home.”

“You're too wound up, Bella. You're going to break.”

“Leave it alone, Temple. I mean it.”

He knew from experience that she called him by his last name only when she was at her limit. The only thing that would work now was a strategic retreat. Back off. Let her cool down. Once the steam stopped pouring from her ears, maybe then she'd see that he had a valid argument.

Then again, maybe what she really needed was for him to take her back to the sparring ring and work out her aggression in sweat and bruises. If not for her injuries, he would have done just that.

“You should go get a shower,” he said. “The last thing we need is to be found wearing the soot and ash from tonight's version of fun with arson.”