On a Knife's Edge (22 page)

She released a pained gasp. “Dead? How?”

Lynch swallowed hard. “He was murdered.”

“By the men who came to the house?”

“Yeah.”

Edie looked at Jarvis. “And they wanted me?”

“We believe so,” the agent replied.

His mom stared at her lap. “But Hez didn’t tell them where I
was so they…killed him?” She lifted agony-filled eyes to Lynch. “So he’s dead
because of me?”

“No,” he claimed with conviction. “Hez is dead because a
sick bastard killed him.”

A sob broke from his mother’s mouth and she angled her face
away. Lynch hitched his hip onto the flimsy mattress and wrapped his arm around
his usually stoic mother, fighting to control his own emotions. Tears burned
his throat. He cast a desperate look to Jarvis.

The agent looked on the verge of breaking down herself. She
cleared her throat. “Your son’s right, Edie. You’re not to blame for what
happened.”

His mom lifted her head. “But if Hez hadn’t—”

“No buts, Ma. You hear me.” Lynch hugged her tight. “If Hez
hadn’t done what he did, he’d still be dead. And so would you.”

Edie huddled into his side, her shoulders quaking.

Jarvis’s phone trilled again. She snatched it from her
pocket. “I’m sorry…” She quickly ducked behind the curtain.

Lynch held his mom as she clung to him like a lifeline.
Instead of succumbing to his own grief, he focused on his rage, and how he
would make Blackwell…Murphy…Bowyer…all of them pay. Pay dearly for what they’d
done to his family.

Soon, his mother’s breathing became steady and even. He
carefully laid her down then stood. For a moment he just stared at her.

Her hair splayed across the pillow in a matted mess. Not her
normally coiffed do. She looked so…frail, like she’d shatter if she sneezed too
hard. He tiptoed into the corridor.

Jarvis stood by the nurse’s station, her arms crossed and
head bowed.

“Hey.”

Jarvis jerked up her head, her expression grave. “Hey. How’s
your mom?”

“Sleeping, which is probably a good thing. Was that call
from Newman?”

“No, the Portland office. Your idea to check for stolen
passenger vans paid off. A Sky Limo van was reported missing from the airport
late yesterday afternoon.”

“That’s good news, right? Now you know what to look for.”

“Except the vehicle’s no doubt been painted with the GPS
disabled, so we have no way of tracking it. Road blocks have been put in place
on the highways heading out of Portland, but they could have slipped past.” She
rubbed a hand across her forehead. “And this means we’re back to
square-fucking-one.”

“What can I do?”

“Get me information on that damn van,” she snapped. She
threaded her fingers through her hair with a sigh then glanced at him. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Have road blocks been put on the freeways
coming into Nevada?”

“Yes.” Jarvis stalked the width of the corridor, dodging a
nurse and orderly who went into his mom’s cubicle. “But if Blackwell’s guys
feel boxed in, they could cut their losses and just eliminate the girls. We
have
to find that van.” She pulled to a stop. “Do you know of any Streeter hideouts
that could be used for keeping the girls?”

Lynch crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the
wall. “In Oregon? No. All the stashes I know of are on this side of the state
line. But…” He straightened. “…some of my brothers might know.”

 Jarvis arched her eyebrows. “You think it’s a smart move to
actually bring in the MC?”

“For the sake of those little girls, there really isn’t
another choice, is there?”

She shook her head. “No. What do you need from me?”

“How about everything you’ve got on Blackwell and the case
so far? The more concrete evidence I can give the club, the better.”

“I've got an extra copy of the file in my car.”

Lynch nodded as the curtain of his mom’s exam room opened
and the orderly pushed out the gurney. His chest tightened painfully as he
gazed at his mom, curled into a ball on her side like a small child. He watched
her get wheeled down the hall toward the elevator.

Jarvis cleared her throat. “Just let me know when you’re
ready and I’ll take you to a hotel for the night.”

A humorless chuckle brushed past his lips. “No offense,
counselor, but I’m not going to another fucking hotel. I’m going back to
Stardust.”

“And stay where? Your mother’s house is an active crime
scene.”

“I’ll stay at my trailer.”

“Alone?” The agent shook her head. “That’s a seriously bad
idea. Especially since we can’t locate Murphy. He or one of his guys could be
waiting for you.”

Rage clouded Lynch’s vision. “I hope they are. I’d love to
get my hands on…” His words trailed off and he blinked at the fresh surge of
tears.

“Look…” The agent placed her hand on his shoulder. “I know
what you’re going through, but vengeance isn’t the answer.”

He shrugged off her touch. “I don’t think you’ve got a
fucking clue what I’m going through, counselor. You lost one man, Olson. I've
lost three brothers and my mother’s been threatened. My entire
family’s
threatened. Vengeance might not be the answer, but it’s a fucking good start.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s still a bad good idea to be at
your trailer…or anywhere…alone.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I just need some time alone
to think—and get drunk.”

Jarvis blew out a breath, clearly not happy. “All right
then.” She extracted her keys. “C’mon…I’ll drive you back.” She started down
the corridor.

Lynch grabbed her arm. “Not necessary. I’ll call a prospect
to come pick me up.” He released his hold. “But I do have a favor. Stay with my
mom.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know she’s safe.”

Jarvis’s forehead pleated. “Of course she’s safe. She’s in
the hospital.”

“But I can’t take any chances. Will you stay?” He glanced
away then back at the agent. “Please.”

She sighed again. “Okay.”

“Thanks.”

Jarvis headed toward the elevator and punched the button.
“Don’t thank me yet, Callan. You haven’t gotten my bill.” With that, she
disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-Four

SHASTA
SLOWED HER
car, staring at the yellow tape surrounding Edie Callan’s
house. No lights were on, but a patrol car sat in the driveway with the
silhouette of two officers inside. She hit the gas and continued on her way.

By the looks of things, Lynch wasn’t at his mom’s house…so
where could he be?

She still couldn’t fathom half of what she’d heard at the
station… Not only had Lynch been working with the FBI since he got released
from prison, but someone tried to frame him for murder—twice. Once for Todd’s
death, and then for the guy named Junkyard Taylor. The same Junkyard Taylor
who’d tried to have her kidnapped.

But that wasn’t all. Now the Streeter president, Rolo
Pruett, was dead…and so was Hez…and Lynch’s mom had been hospitalized.

She rubbed her fingers over her puffy, gritty eyes and
refocused on her driving. She realized trying to find Lynch was the epitome of
a dumb idea, but she had to do
something
. He’d just lost two people he
cared dearly about—and almost his mom. Shasta needed to know he was okay.

She drove her compact up the dirt road to Lynch’s trailer.
Probably a fool’s errand. What were chances he’d be there? In all likelihood,
the FBI spirited him away to an undisclosed, secure location. But with Wyatt
safely asleep with Dell at the house and Graham still in Vegas, what did she
have to lose by checking for herself? So she’d said her goodnight to her
brother then snuck out.

 She knew this might be her one opportunity to see Lynch.
Graham had been quite alarmed at the recent turn of events and planned to cut
his trip short. She told him it wasn’t necessary, and almost had him convinced
to finish up his business when Wyatt said something about going fly fishing
this weekend. Which meant all the equipment needed to be assessed. So Graham
would return home tomorrow morning. And that meant she had only tonight.

Shame badgered her as she circumvented the many potholes in
the road, but she refused to let remorse deter her. She intended nothing more
wicked than talking with Lynch. Holding him and being held…

Fresh tears surged to her eyes. Hez had been her friend too.

She rounded the last bend and her headlights shone on the
fifth-wheel, along with the familiar motorcycle parked in front. A light
illuminated the trailer’s windows from the inside, and her stomach did a
flip-flop. Shaking off her sudden nervousness, she pulled alongside the
motorcycle, cut the car engine and climbed out. Even with her jacket, the
evening breeze raised goose bumps on her skin. She hustled to the door, but it
swung open before she could knock.

Lynch stood there, his body partially blocked by the door, a
gun in his hand. The light behind him threw his face in shadow. Tension
pulsated off him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

She folded her arms across her chest at his gruff tone. “I
heard what happened today.” More tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t fall
apart. This wasn’t about her. Yes, she grieved for Hez, but he hadn’t been her
best friend since kindergarten…

She tossed her head and gazed at Lynch’s backlit features.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Go home.” He closed the door.

She put out her hand and tried to look past him into the
trailer. “Are you alone? No FBI?”

“No FBI.”

That surprised her. “Is it safe for you to be alone?”

“Safer than asking a bunch of questions,” he snarled. “Get
the hint, Shaly?”

Yes, she got the hint…didn’t mean she’d take it. She angled
her chin. “Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

He gusted a grunt and stepped back, leaving the door open.
She quickly entered in case he changed his mind. “How’s your mom?”

He placed the revolver on the counter next to a bottle of
liquor. Bourbon…awful stuff, and Lynch’s alcohol of choice when he was hurting.

He gripped the bottle and tipped it to his lips. “She’s
fine, just like me,” he mumbled before taking a long swallow.

Though he was drinking, Shasta knew he wasn’t drunk. At
least not yet. She licked her lips and turned her attention to the
surroundings. A heap of cables and wires sat stacked on the table. “What’s all
this?”

Lynch stared at the pile with a half-hearted shrug. “Nothing
important.” He set down the bourbon and faced her. “Why are you here, Shaly?
Really?”

“Like I said, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Like I said, I’m fine.”

But his red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks said otherwise.
She swallowed her building sob and reached for him. “I’m so sorry about Hez.”

His expression crumbled as he veered from her touch. He
hunched his shoulders, a fist pressed to his mouth. She wrapped him in a loose
hug.

His arms wound around her waist like banded steel. He buried
his face in her neck while his body shuddered. She smoothed his hair with her
palm and cooed.

He eased back enough to claim her mouth in a brutal mating,
like he wanted to purge his sorrow. His teeth clashed with hers and his
whiskers burned her delicate skin. She cleaved to him and weathered his rough
treatment.

As violently as it started, Lynch yanked her away. His
fingers bit into her arms while his ragged breathing echoed with hers. He
released her and moved back. “You need to go.”

She shifted forward. “I’m not going anywhere. You need me.”

“What about your husband, Shaly?” Lynch crossed his arms and
leaned against the table. “Think he’ll mind me…” He boldly raked his gaze over
her body. “…needing you?”

She mimicked his stance, ignoring his transparent attempt at
guilt. “Let me tell you about my husband. He’s kind and generous, and one of
the strongest men I know. And he
doesn’t
need me. I don’t think he’s
never needed me. Even with his disability…” She lifted a shoulder and switched
her gaze to the floor. “Maybe it’s the difference in our ages, but I always
thought marriage meant more than simply being taken care of. It should be
more.” She looked at Lynch. “I want…no I
need
to be needed. And by more
than just my son.”

She took his hands and uncrossed his arms. “I know you’re
hurting…I hurt too. We both loved Hez…” Her voice hitched and tears pressed at
her eyes. She cleared her throat. “Will Graham be happy I’m here? No. But that
can’t be helped. You need me. And I need you. Right now, in this moment, I’m
exactly where I should be.”

His fingers contracted around hers. “What are you
suggesting?

She tilted her head. “We could hold each other.”

His eyes darkened. “And if I want more than hold you?”

She released his hands and moved between his legs to cradle
his face in her palms. Staring into his magnetic eyes, she realized her naïveté
at thinking she wouldn’t sleep with Lynch tonight. Though that hadn’t been her
objective, she couldn’t deny the inevitable. She couldn’t deny she loved Lynch.

That she’d always loved him.

And while she cared dearly for Graham, the depth of her
feelings for her husband could never be as profound as the ones she held for
this man.

She leaned closer and whispered her lips over his. A growl
rolled from Lynch’s chest into hers, but he accepted her invitation and
returned her kiss.

Unlike before, this union was tentative…an exploration.
Thoughtful and sweet and loving. His arms enfolded her, in a gentle embrace. It
harkened back to when Lynch first kissed her. He held her like he feared she’d
break. He deepened the kiss and she sighed into his mouth.

Spirals of need coiled low in her abdomen as his velvet lips
traveled to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Be sure about this, Shaly,” he murmured against her skin.
Tingles raced across her scalp and warmth pooled in her panties. “Be very
sure.”

In answer, she eased away, toed off her shoes and removed
her jacket. She pulled her shirt up and over her head then reached behind to
flick off her bra. Her nipples peaked at his hungry, devouring gaze. She
reached out her hand. He took it and she led him through the narrow kitchen to
the bedroom in back.

Inside the minuscule, but tidy room, she helped him dispatch
his shirt. She caressed her palms across his chest, relishing its silky feel.
She traced her finger along the Celtic design on his chest and pressed a kiss
there. She then continued her exploration down to his waistband.

She undid the fly of his jeans while he did the same with
her pants zipper. The actions were measured, controlled. Not like the
adrenaline-induced frenzied encounter at the Bentley farm. Only when she stood
before him as naked as him did he touch her. Really touch her.

His large hands spanned her waist, drawing her near until
her body adjoined his from chest to groin, the evidence of his arousal tucked
securely against her belly.

He captured her lips in a smoldering, scorching kiss. One
that made her burn. Burn with the fire of wanting…needing…more.

His mouth journeyed to the hollow of her throat, kissed and
nipped her collarbone. She flexed her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders
to hold him closer. He urged her down onto the neatly-made bed.

His sinewy body covered hers. How she loved the heavy feel
of him pressing her into the mattress. Then he kissed her again. Long, drugging
kisses that awakened every one of her nerve endings. She kissed him back amid
her mounting urgency.

She encouraged him to roll over without breaking contact
with his lips. Her legs on either side of his torso, she swept her tongue
through his mouth while rocking her hips and dragging the length of his cock
along her intimate folds. His groan mingled with her moan.

 She left his lips and kissed her way down the breadth of
his chest, pausing to tease his nipples. She moved lower, across his flat
stomach to kneel between his legs.

Wrapping her hand around his girth, she looked up at him. He
stared back, not moving…like he’d stopped breathing. She gave him a small smile
then opened her mouth, and took him in.

She remembered when she’d insisted Lynch teach her to
perform oral. He’d been almost embarrassed. But she’d persisted because she
wanted to be the best for him.

She used her hands in tandem with her mouth then flattened
her tongue and deep-throated him. She swallowed to lessen the gag reflex, but
also to maximize his pleasure. His hips thrust, pushing him deeper into her
mouth while his hands mussed her hair. Her cunt contracted as her clit
throbbed.

He tightened his hold on her hair and hauled her back up his
body. He easily tossed her onto her back, swallowing her surprised squeak. His
tongue commandeered her mouth as he palmed her pussy. He inserted two fingers.
And just like that, ecstasy exploded throughout her body.

Lynch continued to fondle her, his mouth never leaving hers,
while her orgasm slowly ebbed. When he kissed her neck and shoulder, then her
breast, she knew his intention. But as nice as that would be…she had to have
more. She didn’t want to just take from him. She wanted to give to him…everything.

She grabbed his ear.

“Ow, Shaly…that hurts.”

She ignored his protest and brought him nose to nose with
her. “No oral.”

His eyes ballooned. “But—”

“No buts. I want
you
, Lynch. Inside me.”

He shifted on his haunches. “Will you regret this in the
morning?”

She sat up, her legs on either side of him, touching him as
intimately as she could without actual intercourse. “If I do, that’ll be on me.
Not you.”

He climbed off the bed. “I can’t let you do this.”

She clamped her legs tight around his hips to keep him
stationary and glared. “You can’t
let me
? I’m an adult, Lynch Callan,
fully capable of making my own decisions. Stop trying to protect me all the
damn time and make love to me.” Sudden fear slammed into her and she loosened
her leg muscles. “Unless you don’t want to…”

He drew his hand down his face with a barked laugh. “Not
want to? Christ, Shaly…” He gestured to where their bodies met. “In case you
didn’t notice, I’m harder than steel.”

“It’s settled then.” She meshed her mouth with his to
prevent any more complaints.

She poured all her emotions—the heartache of past mistakes,
the joy at being with him now, the love…all her love…she felt for this man into
her kiss. Little by little his arms enclosed her in a hug and he kissed her
back. His cock twitched against her pussy and she laid back, taking him with
her.

He broke away. “What about rubbers?” His voice sounded
raspy. “I don’t think I have any.”

She reached over, pulled out the nightstand drawer and
groped around then pulled out an open box. “Ta da.”

He lifted up. “Those have probably been here since before I
got sent to the joint. They’re years past their expiration date.”

“Oh please.” She extracted a foil wrapper and tore it open
with her teeth. “Those dates are more like guidelines.” She quickly rolled the
condom on his pulsating dick. “They’re fine.”

Not that it mattered if they weren’t, but Shasta didn’t say
that.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him
again. He grasped his cock and caressed it through her wet folds to lubricate her
canal. He nudged her opening with his hard tip then settled into her cradle.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispered against her lips.

She nodded even though she’d do nothing of the kind. Bit by
bit, he pushed into her. Joined with her. Made them one.

Tears gathered in her eyes, though not from the fiery pain
as her pussy walls stretched to accommodate him. No…her tears were from the
sheer beauty of this moment. A moment she never believed she’d experience again
with Lynch.

But she was. And she’d be forever grateful for it.