Read Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel Online
Authors: Shannon K. Butcher
Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel (9 page)
Clay sat on the bed with his back against the headboard. He had a small notepad propped against one knee, writing something. As soon as he saw her, he stopped, looking up at her.
His gaze swept over her, making her acutely aware of her dripping hair.
“Nice shower?” he asked.
“Better than I expected in a place like this, actually.”
He hadn’t looked away, { loe l and his scrutiny was beginning to make her nervous. “What? Haven’t you ever seen a woman with wet hair before?”
A faint smile twitched at the left side of his mouth. “You’re pink.”
“The water was hot.”
“It’s just not what I expected. That’s all.”
She wasn’t sure what he had expected, but all this talk about her appearance was uncomfortable. “Have you been able to remember dates?”
The smile that hadn’t quite formed disappeared. “A few. Two nights ago for sure. Three weeks ago, but I can’t remember which day.”
Leigh sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the printed list, and flipped through until she found the approximate time he was questioning. “What do you remember?”
“I’d been working for three days straight with nothing but a few naps here and there. We were guarding a shipment in Los Angeles.”
“What kind of shipment?”
“That’s private client information. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“Then what?”
“I stumbled home, exhausted and ready to sleep for as long as I could. The next thing I remember was waking up when Mira called, saying I was late for work. The problem was, I wasn’t scheduled to work again for two days.”
“Could you have slept for two days straight?”
“No way. I never sleep that long. Plus I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. I was just as exhausted as when I fell into bed.”
There were symbols next to some of the GPS coordinates on the list. Mira’s notes said that she’d marked the times he’d been at home or at the office.
Leigh went back three weeks and scanned the data. “It looks like you went home on Tuesday after being away for three days. You stayed at home for six hours, then left again around eleven on Tuesday night.”
“Where did I go?”
“There are coordinates here, but I don’t know where they are.”
The mattress shifted, and then she felt his heat at her back as he looked over her shoulder. “I’m not sure. South of Dallas, but that’s all I can tell without looking up the coordinates.”
“We’ll figure that out next. First we should look for patterns—places you went to multiple times, maybe.”
“Check where I was two nights ago.”
She slid her finger down the list of numbers until she reached the right spot. “See here. You were home; then you left for a few hours and came back again.”
“It’s not the same place as three weeks ago.”
Leigh circled the coordinates. “Do {nat. Yyou remember any other times?”
He moved away again, and her right side felt cold without him so close. She should have been grateful for the space, but when it came to Clay, she wasn’t thinking clearly.
When he remained silent, she glanced up at him. He’d stripped off his flannel shirt and was inspecting his hands and arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking scars. I have a few I can’t account for. I’m trying to remember when I got them.” He ran his finger along a pink scar about an inch long along his biceps. “This one happened right after Mira’s birthday. I missed her party. She thought I’d gone out and gotten drunk.”
“You didn’t tell her otherwise?”
“I didn’t want to worry her. She frets enough about me as it is.” Clay shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but the sadness Leigh saw dulling his eyes told another story.
“I remember the party. It was a Friday night. She’d told me you were going to be there and that she wanted me to meet you.”
He grunted as if amused. “She kept trying to get me to go see you, too. I think she was hoping to set us up. Pretty ridiculous, huh?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, even as she wondered what it would have been like to meet him outside such bizarre circumstances. He wasn’t her usual type—he was rougher around the edges and less refined than she usually liked—but he was a great-looking guy. And she could definitely see the appeal of having someone like him around after last night. Just the memory of that gunman’s hands on her was enough to make her feel sick.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Mira had no idea about how fucked-up I was when she tried to set us up. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of.”
He’d thought she was thinking of him hurting her, not the other man. Once again he was taking responsibility for something that was completely out of his control. “And we’re never going to tell her. She’s way too sweet to know what we’re doing. Agreed?”
Clay nodded.
“Good.” Leigh went over the data near the time of Mira’s birthday party. “Look. They’re the same as three weeks ago.”
She handed the pages to him, pointing to where she’d circled the coordinates.
“They’re not just close, but exactly the same. I think this is what we’ve been looking for.”
Leigh scanned through the rest of the pages. “Those same coordinates show up multiple times. August seventh . . .”
He lifted his T-shirt and pointed to a pale scar that looked like a knife wound. “That’s when I got this.”
“August twenty-fourth.”
“Cracked ribs.”
“September ninth.”
ribs.”<="-1" face="Times Ten LT Std Roman">He shook his head. “I don’t remember anything specific around that time. But more than once I’ve woken up to bruises.”
“What do they have you doing that you get hurt so often?”
“Hell if I know. But I’m going to find out.”
“Then there’s something you should know,” said Leigh. “That man told me that he’d been sent to find you so that you could finish a job.”
“What job?” he asked.
“He didn’t say. But whatever it is, I think that these coordinates might be the place where you’d do it.”
Chapter Eleven
T
he coordinates were right in the middle of a hellhole near the Mexican border in a dimly lit bar teeming with low-life scum.
If Clay had known just how seedy the place would be, he would have dropped Leigh off miles away. Not that she would have stayed put.
“I can’t go in there like this,” she said, waving at her slacks and button-up blouse. “I’ll stick out and draw too much attention. Give me a minute.”
Clay studied the area, watching people go in and out of the bar while Leigh did whatever it was she felt she needed to do. When he looked at her again, she’d put on dark makeup around her eyes and unbuttoned her blouse a couple of buttons. A quick tousle of her hair and she looked like the rest of the women going in—ready for a party, and not the kind with paper hats and noisemakers.
He stared at her, soaking it in so he wouldn’t be shocked once they got inside. Her eyes looked huge and haunted. No amount of makeup could cover up the fear he saw shining there. Her red hair was wild and mussed as if she’d just crawled out of some man’s bed after a long night of rough sex. With those extra two buttons undone, her respectable blouse turned into fantasy wear, showing off the most glorious pair of tits he’d ever seen. Her lashes were long and thick, and her mouth was painted a glossy, lickable pink.
In that moment, he wanted to kiss her so badly he had to grab the steering wheel to keep from reaching for her. His whole body went into overdrive, his engines revving hard and fast. Desire vibrated through him, sizzling along his skin until the heat made him break out in a sweat.
“You ready?” he croaked, forcing his gaze away from what he couldn’t have.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“You can’t stay in the car, but I will take you somewhere safe and come back.”
“No. Let’s just do this. We have no phones. If anything happens, neither of us has a way of communicating with the other. We’re safer together.”
He questioned her logic. He was certainly safer with her arou ~m">rigether.nd, but he couldn’t say the opposite was true. But time was an issue, and she was a big girl, so he accepted her decision and got out of the car.
The crowd outside the doors parted as Clay walked through, staring at him as if they knew who he was. And were afraid to get in his way.
He used that to his advantage as he walked inside, taking on the demeanor of a man who expected crowds to part. Leigh trailed behind him, her bruises lending credibility to his act. Her fingers were fisted around the back of his jacket, the slight tug reassuring him that she was close enough that he could keep her safe—at least from everyone but himself.
A short man with bushy black hair and two missing teeth made a beeline for Clay as soon as he crossed the threshold. Clay’s hand went to the small of his back, where his gun sat, and he stopped, allowing the man to approach.
“You’re early,” said the man, his greeting almost friendly.
Early for what? was the question.
“I was in the neighborhood,” said Clay.
“And you brought company,” he said, leering at Leigh’s breasts.
“She’s mine. And I don’t share.”
The man lifted his hands and smiled, showing off his missing teeth. “You have good taste. Come and have a drink. The next shipment isn’t here yet.”
“Shipment?” asked Leigh.
Clay could not let her get drawn into whatever mess awaited him here, so he turned on her and snarled, “This is business. Keep your mouth shut, woman.”
Leigh flinched, and it wasn’t an act. Genuine fear widened her eyes and made her cower. She let go of his jacket and took a step back.
It made him sick to scare her like that, but if she said the wrong thing in a place like this, it could be the last thing she did. Better to have her scared than passed around from one of these dirty assholes to another.
“Marshall has never brought a woman here before,” the man said to Leigh. “You must be special.”
She kept her eyes cast down, and the look was so alien on her, Clay wondered just how much he’d scared her. “Thank you . . .”
He sat at an empty booth. “Anton. Surely Marshall has told you of me.”
Clay motioned for Leigh to slide in first, silently thanking her for getting the man’s name. “I don’t talk business with my women. Pretend she’s not here.”
“Of course,” said Anton. He raised his hand to a waitress, who nodded and hurried to the bar. “The next shipment will be here in two nights. I found two this time. Same terms as always. Do you have the payment?”
“Yes.”
Anton smiled and nodded. “Where shall we meet?”
“You pick this time.”
“The warehouse?”
Clay shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Suits me. What time? Sooner is better than later.”
“You told me you couldn’t accept delivery earlier than tomorrow—that you had a job to do that would keep you occupied.”
That was the second person who’d mentioned this mystery job of his. Whatever it was, he needed to figure it out soon before he said something that got him in trouble. “My plans changed.”
Anton squirmed in his seat as if worried Clay was coming across the booth for him. “Tomorrow night. Right after the bars close and the cops are busy elsewhere.”
The waitress set three beers on the table and left. Clay gave Leigh’s thigh a warning squeeze under the table. He picked his up as if to drink but didn’t put it to his lips. “It will have to do.”
Leigh picked up her glass and started to drink. He snatched it away from her and growled, “I want you sober for later. Not like last night.”
A flash of anger brightened her eyes, but she hid it quickly, casting her gaze to the scarred table.
Anton grinned. “You two have plans. Shall we deal with the payment so you can go on your way?”
“It’s in my car.”
Anton laid some cash on the table and led the way out through the back. As they passed, people stared. Clay put his arm around Leigh, giving off the strongest territorial vibes he knew how. These people were afraid of him for some reason, and while he might never know what he’d done to deserve their fear, he wasn’t above using it to Leigh’s advantage. If they were afraid of him, they wouldn’t touch anything that he’d claimed as his own. It was as primitive as it was effective.
The alley behind the bar reeked of vomit and piss. There were no lights, only the glow of the moon shining on puddles of who knew what to guide their way.
As soon as they were alone with Anton—out of earshot of the bar—Clay took Leigh’s arm and urged her to hang back. Before Anton could guess Clay’s intent, he grabbed the man by the shoulders and threw him against a brick wall, pressing a forearm against his throat.
Anton’s eyes went wide and he held his hands up by his ears. “My friend, what is this?”
“We’re not friends. And you’re going to answer my questions.”
“Of course. Whatever you want to know.”
“Who do you work for?”
Anton’s voice was quiet, as if he were talking to a wild animal. “The doctor, just as you do.”
“What doctor? What’s his name?”
“I don’t know names. Only you do. You told me of him. You sought me out to acquire what he needed. What is this about?”
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Clay ignored his question. “What’s in the shipment?”
Anton frowned as if confused. “The same thing as always.”
Clay increased the pressure against the man’s throat just long enough to cut off his air and scare him. “Tell me.”
“It’s for the tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“I don’t know. I would never pry into your business. You made it clear my questions were unwelcome.”
Leigh stepped up next to Clay. “What exactly is being shipped?”
Anton hesitated, so Clay shoved him higher up the wall, telling him without words to answer her.
“Subjects,” he squeaked out. “Children.”
All the strength left Clay’s body. Anton slid down the wall. Clay nearly toppled over in shock and disgust.
Children. He’d been helping some doctor gather children? Paying for them as if they were test tubes?
Anton tried to slip away, but Clay grabbed him by the back of his shirt and stopped him in his tracks. He flung the man around to face him and lifted him up to eye level. “You’re going to take those kids back to wherever you found them. You’re never going to touch another child again, or I will find you and kill you. Are we clear?”
Anton gave a shaky nod.
“Say anything to anyone about our meeting tonight, and I will find out.”
“Yes. Of course. I won’t say a thing. I swear.”
Clay shoved the man away, glad to no longer be touching him. Anton scurried down the alley and out of sight.
“We should go,” said Leigh.
Clay couldn’t even look at her. Not after knowing what he’d done.
Kids. Someone had him collecting kids.
She tugged on his arm. He didn’t dare move. If he took a step, he knew his knees would give out.
“You can’t think about it now,” she said. “That rat could be going for backup. He could bring more people here. We have to move. Now, Clay.”
It was her order, given with such authority, that made Clay react. She was right. They needed to get out of here fast. He was in no shape to fight off a bunch of thugs. As it was, he was having trouble not puking his guts up, adding to the filth in the alley.
Clay focused on her, letting the sight of her dark eyes shove all the ugliness from his immediate thoughts. He managed to put one foot in front of the other all the way to the car, where she tucked him inside as if he were some kind of doddering old man.
He complied, not allowing himself to think. Justto im in move. Breathe. Walk. Sit.
The car started and she drove away, hitting the nearest interstate. He didn’t know where she was going. He didn’t even care. If she drove off a bridge, he’d sit here calmly on the way down, accepting what came.
Clay couldn’t wrap his head around what had just happened. It was one thing to kill men who were out to hurt him. It was another to hurt an innocent woman as he’d done to Leigh. But even in his craziest, most insane dreams, he’d never thought himself capable of hurting a child.
He let himself go numb inside, because the only other option was putting his gun to his head and pulling the trigger. It was what he deserved, but he didn’t want to do that to Leigh—make her witness it and leave her to clean up the mess.
“You didn’t do this,” she whispered, miles later.
Clay didn’t respond. There was no point. She was only trying to make him feel better, and there wasn’t a thing she could say to accomplish that miracle.
“It was that doctor’s fault. And I use the term loosely. No licensed physician would ever involve himself in human trafficking.”
Silence filled the car. Clay didn’t care.
Leigh’s voice shook with such violence, it startled him. “We’re going to find him—whoever is doing this—and stop him.”
“I don’t think I can,” he said. His voice was strained, as if he’d been screaming.
“Of course you can. I can’t do it without you.”
“I gave up my right to keep breathing the moment I hurt a kid. You’re on your own.”
She pulled off the road into a vacant parking lot, parked the car, and turned to him. The heat in her tone blasted him. “You don’t get to be that selfish.”
He was so surprised by that comment, it shocked him out of his numb stupor. “What?”
“You heard me. You don’t get to give up yet. You helped make this mess, and despite the fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing, you may be the only one who can clean it up. You’re thinking about killing yourself, and if you do that, who will help me?”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I do. I’ve seen it before. I didn’t catch the signs in time to save Hollis, but you can bet your ass I won’t let the same thing happen to you—even if I have to lock you up in a cell next to my brother to make sure of it and go out on my own looking for a way to fix this.”
Dark, violent rage seethed under his skin, making his tone sharp. “I won’t let you lock me up.”
“And I won’t let you die. If I do, then everything you know dies with you. What will happen to the kids who may still be out there, hoping someone will save them?”
Oh God, no. He hadn’t processed all of this enough yet to realize she wasealhem? right. There probably were kids in danger right now, having who knew what done to them.
A memory bubbled up, as clear and vivid as if it had happened yesterday. He was little, strapped into a chair. A tube was hooked up to his arm, and his eyes were being held open with tape. Split-second images flashed across a screen, too fast for him to really see any of them. Whatever they were, they scared him. He couldn’t move his head and look away. His eyes burned and tears streamed down his face.
Clay stumbled out of the car just in time to empty his stomach onto the ground. He knelt there on the cold asphalt, shaking. The wind cooled streaks of tears on his cheeks.
