Razor's Edge (42 page)

Not that it mattered what he wanted. He'd shot her best friend—twice. That wasn't the kind of thing a woman simply overlooked.

There was a good chance they wouldn't make it out of this alive, and his desire to tell her how he felt burned his throat. He held back only because telling her would be a selfish thing to do. She was already dealing with enough. She didn't need him heaping a bunch of emotional garbage onto the pile.

Something thudded at the rear of the building—then again.

“They're battering the door in.”

She nodded. “Can you make it up the stairs? I can probably take at least one of them out from up there before they see us.”

The thought of hauling Jake up all those stairs seemed impossible, but he'd find a way. “I can make it.”

He kept one hand on Jake's back, and another on the railing. Each step seemed to sway out from under his feet, so he closed his eyes and felt his way as fast as he could.

Roxanne was right behind him.

He hurried into the office, hearing glass crunch under his feet. She followed him in and closed the door. Easing her way to the gaping opening in the glass, she peered down, weapon ready to fire.

Tanner laid Jake on the conference table and ripped off a couple of strips from his shirt to put some pressure on the wounds. It wasn't much, but it would at least help slow the bleeding.

His pulse was steady, but faster than it should have been. Tanner didn't know if that was because of loss of blood, or if it was something else. Adrenaline? Drugs? There was no way to know until they got him some decent medical care.

If they got out.

Tanner slipped up to Roxanne's side and pulled the gun from the back of her jeans. She gave him a brief nod of encouragement, then looked pointedly down into the room.

There were seven men, all heavily armed and all wearing body armor.

“On three,” she whispered so low he almost didn't hear it. “One, two, three.”

They both fired, then ducked as a hail of bullets flew up at them, digging holes in the ceiling of the office.

“Stairs!” shouted one of them.

“We're not going to make it,” said Roxanne.

She was right, but he refused to admit it out loud. “Yes, we will.”

He went to the door and opened it. A short hall led to the steps. It was narrow. They could come down it only one at a time. “We'll take them on here.”

Another volley of gunfire exploded below. Tanner saw the first man's head and let loose. The shooter went down, but another took his place. He ducked back inside the office, hiding just inside the door. He wasn't sure if the wall would stop the bullets or not, but it was all he had.

Behind him, Roxanne fired her weapon through the window.

Bullets shredded the office door, sending shards of wood flying toward Tanner's face.

He went low, taking two quick shots. One of them missed, and he was greeted with another barrage of rapid fire. Something stung his thigh, and he knew he'd been hit.

“I'm out!” she shouted.

He tossed her his gun and unceremoniously turned the table on its side, dumping Jake onto the floor. He rolled it across the doorway, drawing more gunfire.

Roxanne took slow, measured shots. And then they stopped. “That's it. We're out of ammo and trapped.”

Like hell. Tanner wasn't going to let it end like this.

He picked up one of the chairs and lobbed it through the opening. Then he did the same with another, and another. Below, someone grunted in pain, but he didn't dare look to see who it was or how many of them were left.

Roxanne followed suit, flinging chairs until there were none left.

He went to the desk. “Help me with this.”

They shoved the heavy metal desk over the floor, pushing it to the door.

A huge boom exploded below. The floor shook with the force of it. Gunfire picked up, and then slowed to a stop.

“Razor! Tanner!” It was Reid's voice.

Roxanne rushed to the window and peeked around the edge. “Here.”

Reid and Clay were below, as were several bleeding bodies. A moment later, Gage appeared from the back. “Clear,” he said.

“Check the stairs,” warned Tanner.

Clay jogged across the room and a minute later, there was a knock on the table. “It's safe.”

They moved the desk and rolled the table away.

“Is he dead?” asked Clay.

Roxanne seemed on the verge of tears. “No, but he's in bad shape.”

“Life flight is on the way. Payton is outside to guide them in. You don't look so good yourself,” he said to Tanner.

“I'm fine. A few stitches and I'll be as good as new.”

The need to comfort her pounded inside him, screaming for release. He was shaking like crazy and weaving on his feet, but he had to be near her. Tanner took a tentative step toward Roxanne.

She stepped away, holding her hand up to ward him off.

Tanner's world seemed to shrink and go darker in that moment. He knew that hurting Jake would hurt her, too, but until now, he hadn't realized how much.

She bent down to Jake and took his hand in hers. Tears pooled in her eyes. “He'll need to be restrained. He's not . . . himself.”

Clay stared at Jake, his expression grim. “I understand.”

P
ayton made arrangements to have them taken to a private hospital. They were separated, and none of the staff would answer Roxanne's questions about either Tanner or Jake. They cited privacy laws, but she didn't give a shit about that. She needed to know they were safe and that they were being taken care of.

Wearing only her flimsy hospital gown, she removed her IV and went out to search for some answers. Payton was standing outside her door. For the first time in her life, he looked slightly rumpled. His tie was loose, and his shirt had lost some of its starch. His face was pale, and there were lines around his eyes and mouth that she couldn't remember being there before.

“How are they?” she asked.

“Tanner will recover. He's got a hell of a concussion, but they're monitoring him. The bullet wounds were patched up, and he'll be as good as new in no time.”

Relief stole her breath, and she had to grab the wall to steady herself.

Tanner was going to be okay. The words ran through her head, chiming like bells. He was going to be okay.

She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “And Jake?”

“He's alive.”

“That's it? That doesn't sound good. Where is he?”

He regarded her with a steady stare. “You can't see him.”

“He's my best friend. I'm the only family he has. Of course I'm going to see him. Pull whatever strings you need to, but you get me into his room.”

“I'm sorry. That's not possible.”

“Why not?”

He looked up and down the hall, then stepped forward, took her arm, and guided her back into her room. His voice was low, his tone solemn. “The things that were done to him—the doctors don't know if they can undo them.”

“What do you mean?”

“They removed the device that was surgically implanted. There's no risk he'll die of poison like the others.”

“That's good, right?”

“Of course, but it's not enough. They gave him drugs we can't identify. They subjected him to psychological conditioning.”

“What does that mean?”

“They fucked with his head. They brainwashed him. That's not the kind of thing that is easily reversed, and when it is, there are no guarantees that he'll ever be the same man he was before. We can't trust him, Razor. We can't let him free.”

The implications of what he said sank in, leaving a cold chill in their wake. “You're going to lock him up? I just risked my life to free him. You can't do that to him.”

“We have to. He's a danger to himself and others. He's a danger to you.”

“No, he's not.”

“We were able to learn that the last order he was given was to kill you and Tanner. Do you really want to risk your life like that? Will you risk Tanner's?”

The thought made her sick. If it involved just her, she'd take the risk, but she couldn't do that to Tanner. Even if he could take care of himself, he had a family to think about. “What can we do?”

“I know people—powerful people—who may be able to help him, but he'll have to go away.”

The idea of locking him up, of keeping him prisoner, made her sick. He'd hardly been able to stand sitting in a classroom at school. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like for him to be locked away. “I want to see him.”

Payton's voice was hard. “No. It's out of the question.”

Roxanne leaned forward, going up on her toes. “Either you let me see him, or I'll find a way to see him without your help.”

“You'll never find him.”

“Do you really want to bet on that? You know me. You know what I can do. I have money, resources. I'll spend every waking hour working to free my friend. You know I will.”

He closed his eyes and let out a searing curse under his breath. “Fine. I'll let you see him, but you can't get close. He's hard to restrain, and they just finished sewing up the wounds on his wrists from where he tried to free himself before.”

She nodded. “I don't want him to hurt himself. I just want to talk to him. I'll be careful.”

Payton sighed and led her to a room with two armed guards posted at the door. She didn't recognize the men. They were dressed in civilian clothing, but they had the look of servicemen. He showed them his ID, and one of the guards opened the door.

The room was dark. A bit of light streamed out from the bathroom where the door had been left ajar. Several monitors sat around the bed, casting a bit of blue light onto the pristine sheets. She could just make out Jake's shape on the bed.

“Jake?” she whispered, not wanting to startle him. “It's Roxanne.”

He shifted on the bed, letting out a low moan.

“He's sedated,” said Payton.

“I don't care. I want to talk to him.”

She pushed the bathroom door wider to let in more light. It was enough to see his gaunt features and the bandages covering his skin. He was held to the bed with wide leather straps around his upper arms, legs, and torso. An IV ran into the backs of both his hands.

“Jake?” She stepped forward.

“That's far enough,” said Payton. “He's awake.”

“No, he's not. He's—”

Payton grabbed her arm and held her back.

Jake's eyes opened. “Come closer, sweetheart. Give me a kiss.”

Payton's grip tightened. “She stays here.”

Jake thrashed against his bonds, his body arching off the bed. His face turned bright red and sweat began to bead on his forehead. His voice was rough with fury. “Let me go. Now!”

That wasn't her friend—it wasn't the Jake she knew. “What have they done to you?”

Payton said, “They drugged him. He can't control himself right now. It's not his fault.”

“Don't talk about me like I'm not here,” seethed Jake.

“I'm sick of doctors. I'm sick of drugs. Just let me go.”

Her heart broke as she witnessed his pain and frustration. “I'm sorry, Jake. We have to get you better first.”

His body went limp, and he closed his eyes. “You should have let me die, Rox. At least Tanner stopped me before I hurt you.”

“I'm going to get you through this,” she promised.

He tensed, his limbs jerking against the bonds. “You should kill me now.”

Roxanne choked back a sob of grief. She didn't want him to see her cry. She needed to be strong for him. “No one is going to kill you. We're going to help you.”

His dark eyes went frigid, and he sneered at her. “Either you kill me, or I'm going to fucking kill you, bitch.”

Roxanne flinched and stepped back in shock, unable to control herself. She barely recognized him. He was cold. Angry. A sinister gleam filled his eyes, and a wicked smile twisted his mouth.

“Jake,” she breathed out, anguish crushing her.

“Stay here,” ordered Payton. He went to a machine controlling the IV and entered a code. The medicine began to drip faster.

Jake thrashed the whole time, struggling to reach Payton. His teeth were bared, and the tendons in his neck stood out as he stretched as if he might be able to bite the man.

Payton came back to her. “We should go. He needs to rest.”

“I can't leave him like this. He doesn't have anyone else.”

“We'll take care of him. I promise.”

Jake's body sagged on the bed, and he panted. His voice slurred, as if he were falling asleep. “I'm sorry, Rox. I can't . . . control myself. Please go. I want to hurt you so much. I want to feel your blood run over my fingers. I want to feel your heart stop beating as I choke you.” He let out a low moan of agony. Tears slid down his cheeks. “Oh God, Rox. Please go.”

Grief pounded at her as she turned and fled the room. She couldn't stand to make him suffer anymore. She'd already caused him so much pain by failing to find him sooner.

Her bare feet slapped against the floor. Payton was right behind her. “Razor, stop.”

She couldn't. She had to get out of there.

Reid stood up from the chair where he'd been waiting and blocked her path. She ran into him, and he held her arms so she couldn't get free. She was too tired to fight him, too crushed to care about her pride. “Please,” she begged him, “get me out of here. I can't stay and make him suffer. I want to leave.” She wanted Tanner. She wanted to fall into his arms and have him hold her until this was all just a distant nightmare.