Rough Edges (5 page)

He shrugged as if he didn't care. “You can, but the instant you do, there will be no more funding. You'll be forced to cut back your efforts to find and help the people hurt by Stynger's research. And to find Gage. This isn't exactly the kind of work that pays well, unlike your usual wealthy clientele.”

“You would do that? You'd really pull funding when you know how much we need it to help those poor people?”

“If it means keeping your team alive to fight another day, I'd do it in an instant. I've come to care for the people that work here.”

She could see that he wasn't bluffing. The man hid nothing inside his clear eyes.

As much as Bella hated it, she was bent over, ass up, with no choice left but to take her punishment. The contract she'd signed was her only means of funding the efforts to help those who needed it. No one else was going to do the job. It was too dangerous. Only her team of badass private soldiers was capable of dealing with the crazy, violent people Stynger controlled.

Defeat rode Bella hard, but she squared her shoulders under the weight. She would take whatever she had to take to do the job. If that meant bending her will to a man she'd given way too much power, then that was what she'd do.

After all, she'd been a victim of Stynger's research, too. She knew what it was like to have her life destroyed by the whims of a madwoman, even if she had been too young and hadn't known what was happening at the time.

Bella pulled in a long breath to steady her nerves and quell the angry words burning her lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“Three simple things. Get some rest. Have a decent meal. And talk to Payton.”

She shook her head before he was even done speaking. “No way am I speaking to that man ever again.”

“It's not an option, Bella. The man knows things we don't. We need him and his knowledge.”

“He lied to me. Used me. Who's to say he's not still using me?”

“It can't possibly be that bad. You're just being stubborn.”

Fury lashed in her gut, sending acid churning into her throat. “Stubborn? Is that what you think? That I'm just throwing some kind of petulant fit?”

“You were speaking to him only a few weeks ago. What could he have done in that time that's so terrible? All I've seen is a man who is desperate to help.”

At that moment, the gym doors opened and Payton walked in. His expensive suit was in perfect order, without a wrinkle. His hair was still thick and full, even though he was nearing sixty. Despite his age, he had the bearing of a man who knew his way around a fight. She'd never seen him in action, but now that she knew what he really was—a highly trained one-man fighting force with enough experience and political pull to be spooky—she could see the subtle signs of his skill flicker through his movements now and then.

He stared at her as he approached with caution, the way a man would an angry rattlesnake. “I heard about your mishap. Are you okay?”

Bella refused to acknowledge his question. Unfortunately, that gave Victor an opening to respond for her. “She's not, but she will be. Nothing a nap and a good meal can't solve. She didn't sleep worth a damn last night.”

“How do you know?” she demanded.

“Because I heard you moving around.”

Shame flamed in her cheeks. She only hoped that he didn't realize she'd been cowering in the closet like a frightened child.

Payton's gaze remained fixed on her, unmoving. “Is that true? Someone said you didn't seem like yourself. You were afraid. If that's the case, then we may have a bigger problem on our hands.”

Victor frowned in confusion, glancing between them. “So what if she was afraid?”

Payton's pale eyes stayed on her. His expression was grim, his stance determined. “Do you want to tell him? Or shall I?”

Bella didn't want her team knowing anything about her past, and she didn't trust Payton not to spill his guts if she didn't stop him. “It's none of his business.”

“I disagree. You signed the contract with Norwood. That put Victor in the field with you, by your side. He needs to know if there's a risk.”

Victor held up his hands. “Whoa. What risk? What the hell are you two talking about?”

“If you don't tell him, I will.” Payton's expression was one of pure warning. There was no love between them now as there once had been. The man who'd been like a father to her since her own had died was nothing to her now. He'd lied to her for years. Hidden what had been done to her. How was she supposed to forgive not only the horrible things he'd done, but also years of hiding those things from her?

The only way Bella could mitigate the damage was to suck it up and tell Victor the ugly truth. Better he hear it from her lips than have Payton twist the story to suit himself.

She clasped her shaking hands together and stared at the wall just beyond Victor's shoulder. She couldn't look him in the face when she admitted her shame. “I didn't know it until recently, but I was one of the kids Stynger experimented on years ago. And like all of them, I'm fucked in the head. There's a chance I could crack the way they do.”

Victor went still. “How much of a chance? Is that what happened with Adam a minute ago? You started to crack?”

She swallowed down her anger at Payton for his hand in getting her to this place. “No, I don't think so.”

Victor's mouth hardened. “You don't think so? This is the kind of thing you need to be sure about, Bella.”

“I'm fine. You don't need to worry.”

“Yes, you do, son,” said Payton to Victor, though his gaze was fixed firmly on Bella. “You've seen what can happen with the people who were part of the project. You close your eyes to that, and you're asking to become a victim.”

Bella's voice vibrated with anger. “I'm not like them. I've got things under control.”

“For now,” Payton said. “But you didn't always. You've let your anger get the best of you before. Or have you forgotten Dan?”

“That was different. I was defending myself.”

“Sixty-seven stab wounds is a bit more than self-defense. It's rage.”

“That's not the way the jury saw it.”

“Wait a minute,” Victor said. “What are you two talking about? What jury?”

Bella was a little surprised that he didn't already know. Some folks in the office loved to gossip about her. If Victor hadn't heard the rumors, it was only because he'd chosen not to listen.

For some reason she liked that he didn't know about her past. She wasn't ashamed of what she'd done—it had been absolutely necessary. But she was ashamed of the person she'd been before she'd killed Dan. Weak. Helpless. A total victim.

“It's none of your business,” she snapped, hoping to stop the conversation right here before it changed how Victor saw her.

“He needs to know the level of violence of which you are capable,” Payton said.

“Oh, I know all about her skill with violence,” Victor said. “I've been working with her for weeks. If violence were an art form, she'd have a display at the Smithsonian. What I need to know is whether or not there's a risk she'll become unstable and inflict that violence on the wrong person.”

It grated against her nerves that Victor would ask Payton instead of her, but she hid her irritation so she wouldn't appear unstable when Victor was already questioning her mental health. “I'm completely steady. That little incident with Adam was just a fluke—a product of too many hours of sleep deprivation.”

“If that's the case,” Payton said, “then you won't mind if I keep an eye on you. You have nothing to hide.”

“I mind,” she said. “I know you're looking for a way to make things like they used to be, but it's never going to happen. Not now that I know the kind of man you really are.”

“I'm the man I've always been—one trying to make up for past mistakes.”

The slow, hot burn of anger and betrayal she'd felt for weeks flared to life. Ever since she'd learned that Payton had been a part of the Threshold Project, she'd struggled with knowing that the man she used to trust was actually one of the bad guys.

How could she not have seen the kind of man he really was? How could she have misread him so completely? He'd come into her life when she was young and vulnerable. He'd helped her get her life back together. Gotten her a good lawyer when she'd been charged with murder, paid all her legal fees so she could walk out of court a free woman, helped her start her company.

Those kindnesses had all been done out of guilt, and she hadn't been smart enough to see through his lies. He'd told her it was all about money, that she was a good investment. It was enough to make her question her judgment about people in general. Who else in her life wasn't what they seemed?

“Your words don't mean a thing to me anymore, Payton. If not for your fancy lawyers and the way they worded our partnership agreement, I wouldn't even let you set foot inside my office.”

“Our office.”

“For now,” she agreed. “I will buy you out. I will cut you from my life at the first possible opportunity.”

He flinched, but covered it fast. “Perhaps, but for now you're stuck with me. Just as the employees here are stuck with you. They all deserve to know if there's any threat of you breaking down the way so many of Stynger's victims have.”

Her words hissed out from between her clenched teeth. “I told you I'm fine.”

“You weren't fine when you killed your husband and left him lying in a pool of his own blood. I just want to make sure that doesn't happen again with Victor or one of the others.”

Victor's gaze hit her, filled with suspicion. Whatever trust he'd had in her, whatever respect he'd had for her as his employer—it was all gone. He watched her as he would a wild animal, unsure of what she might do next.

In one single stroke, Payton had completely usurped her authority. Rage sizzled just below her scalp, scalding her brain. She knew if she didn't turn and leave now, she was going to do something to Payton she'd regret as soon as she got finished enjoying it.

In an uncharacteristically jerky move, she turned on her heel and left. Let these two men say whatever they wanted about her. It didn't matter. She knew that her little freak-out was nothing—certainly not something that would get in the way of her finding Stynger and taking her down for good.

And anyone who tried to stop her would find out just how clear her mind really was.

V
ictor didn't dare try to stop Bella from stalking away. It was obvious she was on the verge of violence, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop her from hurting Payton without hurting
her
in the process. And he really didn't want to have to hurt her.

The second she was behind the locker room doors, Victor turned to Payton. “That was completely uncalled-for. I thought you were trying to make amends with her, not push her farther away.”

“I can't baby her anymore, though God knows I wish I could.” Payton ran his manicured fingers through his perfect hair, mussing it. The look of distress on the man's face was almost enough to make Victor feel a pang of sympathy.

“There's a long way between babying her and airing her secrets in front of me.”

“I thought you needed to know. You two are spending a lot of time together.”

“No more than anyone else.”

“You're wrong about that,” Payton said. “I've been keeping a close eye on her. She still works with the others, but not like she used to. She loves them too much to put them at risk, which makes me worry that something has changed.”

“Like what?”

“Like what happened with Adam.”

“It wasn't that big of a deal.”

“If you knew her history, you wouldn't say that.”

“So enlighten me.” Snooping was generally a disgusting habit, but Victor forgave himself because lives were on the line. If there was something he needed to know, it was best to find out now while there was still time to make preparations to deal with it.

Payton shook his head. “No. That's too much a breach of trust even for me. She already hates me enough. No sense in throwing fuel on the fire.”

“If I need to know—”

“You don't. All you need to know is that she's not as tough as she would like us all to believe. I used to step in and help her shoulder the burden of running this place, but she's shut me out. I can't help anymore. I can barely get in the front door.” Payton gave Victor a hard stare. “You have to be there for her now.”

“Why me?”

“Because she has no choice but to let you in. I cut her off from my money, so she was forced to accept the contract that compels her to keep you on staff.”

“I'm not here to babysit one woman. My orders are to help locate Stynger and take her and her work down. I'm not paid to do your dirty work.”

“If Bella cracks, this whole place will go down with her. No more front for you or Norwood to do what the powers that be so desperately want you to do. If he was here, he'd order you to keep an eye on her. If you don't believe me, ask him. I've known the man for more years than you've been alive. I'm sure about this one.”

Victor didn't doubt it. And as much as he hated the idea that Bella might be in a mentally precarious situation, he knew he could help. She was strong. She could get through this. All she needed was a man with the balls to make her do the right thing.

Right now, that man was him.

B
ella stumbled through her impromptu employee meeting as fast as she could, then headed back to her office, where she could hide for a few minutes and calm down.

Was Payton right? Could the response she'd had to Adam be a sign she was cracking? Or was it just a random throwback to a time when she was her old self, completely incapable of fighting back against a bigger, stronger opponent?

She wasn't sure which she preferred. Both were enough to mess with a woman's head, and right now she needed her wits about her.

Gage was still missing. She'd thrown him to the wolves and she couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't been eaten alive. Even the thought was enough to make her blood go cold and sluggish in her veins.

She
had
to find him. Fast. Something deep in her gut told her that his time was running out. Assuming it hadn't already.

She rounded the corner to her office. Her secretary, Lila, sat at her desk, her standard uniform of oversize drab brown clothing in place. Bella had no idea why the woman felt the need to continue hiding from an ex who was dead, but she'd remained timid and mousy long after she should have been bouncing back from her abusive relationship.

At least there were no tearstains on her ugly shirt today. Bella didn't think she could handle witnessing sweet Lila's pain on top of everything else.

She stood as Bella passed, handing her a chilled bottle of water. There were signs of nervousness in Lila's stance. Her hand shook slightly around the water bottle, making the surface ripple under the bright office lights. “There's a man in your office. He's here about a new contract for his employer.”

“I didn't know I had an appointment this morning.”

“It was on your calendar.”

“I don't remember seeing it.”

Lila's nervousness increased until her whole body was shaking. If Bella kept pushing Lila, the girl was going to be in tears before lunch. Again.

“Never mind. Just tell me it's going to be quick.”

“No more than an hour or so, I'm sure.”

Bella stifled a groan of agony. She knew bringing in new clients was important, but she just didn't have it in her today to play nice, give the tour, pretend to be interested and generally suck up. That was Payton's strong suit, but she'd been refusing to let him meet prospective clients since she'd learned about his betrayal.

Which meant she had to shove her need for alone time down for at least another hour.

She plastered what she hoped was a reasonable facsimile of a smile on her face as she pushed through her office door.

Sitting at her glass desk was a man in his forties. He'd moved her guest chair so that it was turned sideways, presumably to watch for her. He had a muscular build and was wearing a suit so expertly tailored she could barely see the concealed weapons he carried. Chances were the camera peering through her open office doorway couldn't pick them up at all.

He rose as she came in, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his huge hand. He set it down and smiled as he gave her a professional once-over. No doubt checking for concealed weapons on her as well as sizing her up. A small part of her wished she'd taken the time to change out of her clinging workout clothes so her weapons were all back in place again. As it was, the only thing she was armed with was a layer of dried sweat.

“Bella Bayne,” she offered as she shook his hand.

“Charles O'Dell, head of security for a man who is interested in acquiring your services.”

“No name?” she asked.

He had pockmarked skin and eyes set too deep beneath a ridged brow. He wasn't exactly ugly, but he was far from handsome. Those deeply set eyes did, however, track her every move as she went behind her desk. There was nothing at all wrong with his attention span or his vigilance.

“No names yet,” he said. “If you make it past this interview, there are two more you'll have to undergo before we sign you on and disclose details.”

That was a little paranoid, but whatever. People with a lot of money often thought they were far more important than they really were. Nothing new there.

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. O'Dell?”

“Chuck,” he offered. “My employer has a trip to the Middle East coming up and would like a team to escort him there and back. You come highly recommended.”

Bella didn't let his praise throw her off her game. She stayed focused, determined to find out what this job was before she went putting the lives of her employees on the line. “You're his head of security. Why don't you do the job?”

“He needs more men than we have on staff. It's a temporary job—one that will last about a week.”

“What's the threat?”

“He's going home to visit his family. Some of them want him dead.”

She let out a low whistle. “Bet that makes for an interesting family reunion.”

Chuck flashed her a charming smile. “Please tell me you're interested in the job.”

“When?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“That's fast.”

“His father is gravely ill. It came up suddenly.”

“I understand. But the short notice will cost extra. How many men are we talking?”

“Three. Plus you, of course.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm not personally available. I have other commitments.”

“My employer insisted that you be part of the team. One of his business associates sings your praises, and my employer finds you intriguing.”

Bella shook her head. There was no way she could leave the country while Gage was still missing. She had to stay here, where she could jump if there was any sign of him popping up, especially if he was in need of a rescue.

“I'd like to help you,” she said, “but I'm afraid that my services are booked for the next several weeks. If he'd like to postpone his trip, I could try to schedule something.”

“If you can't come, then I'll have to look elsewhere.”

“My involvement is not negotiable, Chuck. I'm sorry. I have commitments.”

Something about the way the man moved triggered her instincts. The relaxed, friendly look on his face fell away, leaving behind something blank and cold. His chest expanded with a deep breath, parting the lapels of his suit enough that they weren't in the way when he reached for the gun riding his ribs.

By the time his fingers wrapped around the butt of his weapon, before her sense of
what the fuck?
even had time to register, Bella was already flying into motion.

She stood, using the full force of her body to fling her glass desk, and the hot coffee sitting atop it, into his lap.

Chuck didn't even flinch as his crotch was soaked with scalding-hot liquid and his legs were pinned between the edge of the heavy glass desktop and the chair.

His hand came up in a fluid move. Through the glass she could see the barrel of his gun aimed right at her chest.

Bella dove to the side as his weapon fired. Glass shattered and fell over her legs.

She ignored the sting she felt and rolled toward the filing cabinet.

Her workout clothes gave her freedom of movement, but her 9mm was still in her gym locker, right where she'd left it. She'd never thought that someone would come after her in her own office while she was surrounded by a bunch of armed employees.

Apparently, she'd been wrong. The trick now was to stay alive long enough for one of those employees to come running to her aid before Chuck blew her brains out.

He fired again, and this time, she could feel the heat of the bullet slide past her cheek. Too close.

There was no way she was getting past him to the door. At least not without a few extra holes.

Bella looked around for some kind of weapon. The cup with her pens and letter opener had toppled to the floor about two feet from Chuck's left boot. She didn't even have her purse with her to swing around like a sling. It was still in her house, which had yet to be officially cleared of explosive devices.

The only thing she could think to use was a heavy shard of glass.

She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and grabbed a thick triangle of glass. The tip was pointed enough to pass as a dagger, but she was going to have to get close for it to do any good.

Really close.

Bella regained her feet as the third shot went off. Through the open door she could see Lila standing there, shaking and doing a great impersonation of an easy target.

“Run!” yelled Bella.

The man turned just enough to give her an opening. She rushed through the shattered pile of glass that had once been her desk and kicked the man's weapon hand.

A bone broke hard enough she heard it snap, but he didn't let go of the gun. Instead, he jerked his head back around and leveled the barrel right at her chest.

Bella slammed the glass shard into his forearm. She hadn't felt it cut her, but the blood slickening her grip proved that it had.

The shard stuck in between the bones in his forearm. She tried to pull it back out for another strike, but it was too slippery to dislodge.

The hand not holding his gun slammed against the side of her head, knocking her stupid. She stumbled under the blow, struggling to figure out which way was up for a second.

It was long enough for him to rip the glass from his arm and move his gun to his unbroken hand. He leveled it to fire.

There was nowhere for Bella to go. She was pinned in the corner with only a flimsy bit of fake ficus tree to shield her. Chuck stood between her and the door, and she didn't think she had time to cross the space and engage in hand-to-hand combat before he could pull the trigger.

Still, a slim chance was better than none at all.

She charged on a bellow, going low to sweep his legs out from under him while making herself as small a target as possible. Before she'd made contact, a heavy boom exploded in the small space, followed by two more.

Chuck stiffened and flailed as he spun around. His legs seemed to give out, and he slowly twisted as he toppled, landing on what had once been her desk.

Standing in the doorway was Victor, gun trained on Chuck's immobile body. Behind him, a crowd of armed men was forming in the hallway.

“Bella?” Victor asked, his voice tight with worry.

“I'm good,” she said between labored breaths. “Pissed as hell, but still alive.”

Chuck didn't move. He'd taken three bullets at close range, delivered by a man who knew how to kill. She was certain Chuck was never getting up again.

Adrenaline began trickling from her system, leaving her shaking and dizzy, with the oddest urge to break into a sobbing fit.

She never cried—at least not in the last decade. And yet she knew that hot prickling in the corners of her eyes was a sure sign she was about to do just that.

“Clear the area,” ordered Victor. “This is a crime scene now.”

Her office a crime scene? Even the thought was enough to send a giggle worming up her throat.

Victor stepped inside the office and checked Chuck for a pulse. The grim look on his face told her there wasn't one.

His eyes met hers. Some hot, fierce emotion was shining just beneath that clear blue surface, but she was too wigged out to spend any time deciphering it. His voice was calm and quiet, but the words were clipped with anger. “You're bleeding.”

She looked at her hands. They were sticky and red, with shallow cuts left behind by the glass.

She'd never before been squeamish, but the sight of her blood and the smell of gunpowder turned her stomach.

Bella swallowed a couple of times to keep her breakfast where it belonged. “I need to go wash up.”

Victor shifted slightly, blocking her path. “I can't let you do that. Not until the police arrive and see the damage.”

“I'll get a first aid kit,” said someone from the hallway. She wasn't sure who. Didn't care.

“Show me your hands,” Victor said.

She held them out for inspection without even considering that she had an option to refuse him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that wasn't like her, but she wrote it off as a bit of scrambled brain matter from Chuck's fist hitting her cheekbone.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

She did. He went only as far as the door, where he exchanged a few quiet words with someone in the hall. When Victor came back, he had some gauze pads in his hand, along with a roll of paper tape.

“The cuts aren't too deep. You might need a couple of stitches in one spot.” His voice was quiet and soothing. “Your pants are bloody, too. I think it's your blood, honey.”

She thought about telling him that he didn't need to treat her so gently, that she'd been hurt far worse than this and survived, but she liked the sound of his voice too much.

“Is she okay?” asked Payton from the doorway.

It wasn't until she heard his voice that she realized that he'd been standing there. How long? She wasn't sure, but if he'd been there for more than a second, she was worse off than she thought. She should have been aware of what was going on around her, especially with so much adrenaline running through her system. High stress situations were nothing new to her, and yet she felt . . . off. Not at all like herself.

“She's going to be fine,” Victor said, carefully taping the gauze pads over her palms and fingers. He looked down at her, tipping her chin up so she looked him in the eye. “Aren't you?”

“I'm fine,” came out automatically.

It was then that she realized she wasn't fine. She was barely inside her own skin. Most of her had retreated to that safe place she used to go when Dad would lay into her. And later, Dan. Nothing could hurt her there.

She hadn't been to this place for years, but she recognized the soft, warm walls now. How much time had she spent curled up here? How many years had this been her home?

A burst of hot rage sliced through the fog, burning some of it off.