Razor's Edge (34 page)

Roxanne drew in a deep breath. “I knew I was on my own. No one was coming to save me. When the kidnapper was in the middle of throwing a fit over Dad's refusal to give him the money, I swiped the knife. When he came back, I stabbed him.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to get away. But I hit an artery in his thigh, and he died in minutes.”

Tanner needed to hold her. He reached for her to pull her into his arms, but she shied away. “Don't. I don't want your pity.” She snapped the cuff back in place, turned over, and shoved a cold wall of air between them.

“I don't pity you, Roxanne. I admire your bravery. Those are battle scars—signs of courage. You're the one who's hiding them as if they're shameful.”

“The kids at school didn't see them that way. Did you ever wonder where I got the nickname Razor?”

He could see the other kids taunting her, mocking her for the scars. “Kids can be cruel. If you didn't like the name, why keep it?”

“To remind me of what I'd done.”

“You were punishing yourself.”

“No one else would. I had to do something.”

“It was self-defense, Roxanne. That man deserved what he got.”

“I'm not so sure. I've often wondered what drove him to do something so drastic. Was it drugs? Greed? Or did he have a sick kid at home who needed medical care? He didn't have a police record. No one knew who he was. No one claimed the body. To this day, I still don't know why he did it.”

“It doesn't matter why. He made the choice to abduct a child. That automatically makes him guilty.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want to sleep,” she said. “Please, leave me alone.”

There was nothing he could do to take back what she'd suffered. He had no real claim to any relationship with her. They weren't even dating. If he'd been her boyfriend, he would at least have felt he had the right to push the issue. But the truth was, they had no future. Their jobs prohibited it.

If it had just been him, he would have walked away from the job without blinking, but it wasn't just him. He had to think about his family. They needed him right now, and he couldn't shirk that duty. He had to keep this job.

He stared down at Roxanne, aching to do something to ease her suffering. But all he could offer her was the rest she needed so that she wouldn't crumble under the strain of searching for Jake. So that's what he did. He got up and left her alone, hating every second of it.

Tanner grabbed a shower and got dressed. Clay was going to be here in about an hour, and he was planning on standing guard so she could get some sleep. Whatever the man's plan was, Tanner hoped it was a good one, because he didn't know how much longer he could stand to watch Roxanne hurt.

J
ake opened his eyes, snapping awake in an instant. He had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here. He was standing, wearing a backless hospital gown and looking into the aging face of Dr. Stynger. Her bright red lips burned his eyes, as did the light she was using to stab his retinas.

She clicked the penlight off. “Excellent. How do you feel?”

He wanted to shout some smart-ass remark at her, but, instead, he found himself taking a mental inventory of his body. He was sore, as if he'd had the hardest workout of his life two days ago and had been shoved in a coffin for his muscles to freeze in place. His head hurt, but that was nothing new. He wasn't nauseated, which was nice. “Fine.”

“Good. Do you know who I am?” she asked.

Evil bitch from hell.
“Dr. Stynger.”

“See?” she said, turning to someone behind her. “I told you he'd survive.”

Bower stepped up and clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder as if he gave a shit. “I'm glad you made it.”

Jake barely resisted the urge to shrug the other man's hand away. He had no idea what he'd survived, but their worry seemed genuine.

He looked around the room he was in. It was small and brightly lit. Medical equipment surrounded a gurney at his side. There were blue linens crumpled on a tray, dotted with blood. His? Probably.

Dr. Stynger stripped off her latex gloves with a snap and turned to Bower. “The next forty-eight hours will be crucial. If he makes it that long, he has an eighty percent survival rate.”

“And what's my rate now, Doc?”

Her pale green eyes met his, and something in his mind opened up, desperate for her to speak and fill the void. She smiled as if she'd heard his thoughts. “Flip a coin.”

He forced his sore shoulder to lift in a negligent shrug. “I've faced worse.”

Her smile widened, and she walked to the door.

Bower was right on her heels. “Sit tight and rest here. We'll be back in a few minutes and run some more tests.”

“What kind of tests? What did you do to me?”

“All in good time,” said the doctor. “If you want to find out, I suggest you focus on staying alive. You shouldn't sleep for at least twenty hours. Thirty is better.”

They shut the door on their way out, leaving him alone with her ominous warning.

Jake stripped off the gown, searching for signs of what they'd done to him. There were abrasions on his wrists and ankles. He had a bruise on the back of his hand where an IV had been. A patch on the back of his head had been shaved, and he felt an incision that had been stitched closed. He pressed around the area, but he couldn't tell what they'd done. He didn't know if they'd removed something, or put something in. Maybe they were just taking a peek inside, though he had no idea why anyone would want to do that.

He went to the sink and gulped down some water. His stomach woke up as though he hadn't eaten in a week. Maybe he hadn't. He had no way to tell how long he'd been asleep.

The door burst open and Jordyn rushed in, shutting it behind her. She saw he was naked, and her frantic movement stalled out for a moment.

Jake covered his crotch with his hands. “Uh. Sorry.”

A blush crept up her face, lending her pale skin a bit of color, but she otherwise ignored his nudity. “We have to hurry. Here, put these on.” She tossed him a sack filled with clothes.

“Do you know what's going on?”

“Yes, but there's no time to explain. Please, Jake. Just dress. We have less than two minutes to get you out of the building before the security codes reset.”

Out? He didn't need to be told twice if that was the prize. He pulled on the pants and shoved his feet into too-small boots. The shirt could wait. “I need to get the others. Moss, Mac, and Evans.”

“There's no time for that.”

“I can't leave them here.”

She glanced nervously at the door as if expecting company. “You don't have a choice. There's simply no time. Please, Jake.”

He considered digging in his heels for a split second before he realized this might be his one chance to save them. If he was free, he could get help. He'd come back for them—heavily armed.

Jake nodded. “Let's go.”

She flew out the door and raced down the hall at a dead run. Jake's body was stiff, but he managed to keep up with her and not lose the unlaced boots.

They took a couple of turns and came to a dead end that housed an elevator. Jordyn swiped her ID card through a slot, then pressed the card into his hands, along with a set of keys.

Her hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her lips, normally a dark pink, were pale and dry. A blue vein in her temple pounded fast. He didn't know what she'd done to make this possible, but it was clear the stress was taking its toll.

She drew in his gaze, and he couldn't help but stare as she gave him orders. “Go to level seven. Take a right. When the blue stripe of paint on the wall ends, take a left. My card will get you out through the door. These are the keys to the last car in row B. Drive west and don't stop until you're sure no one has followed you.”

“You're not coming with me?”

“I can't. I'm sorry. You'll have to stay in hiding. Mother will search for you now that she's invested so much time, effort, and money.”

“Come with me. I can't leave you here.”

“Eventually she'll get bored, move on to a new experiment, and stop looking for you. If I go, she'll never stop searching. You have to go alone.”

The elevator let out a muted ding as it reached their floor.

“I can't leave you here,” said Jake.

A flash of yearning crossed her face before she hid it. “I'll be fine.”

“I'll come back for you and the others,” he promised. “I won't leave you here with that monster.”

“She's my mother.”

“She's a heartless bitch. She'll kill you for helping me.”

Jordyn's eyes shimmered with tears. “She'll only make me
wish
I were dead. I'll survive it. I always do.”

The doors hissed open. She grabbed his arm and pushed him inside, then pressed the button for level seven. Her slender fingers shook, and Jake wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. There was no time.

He was going to find Dr. Stynger and kill the bitch. He was going to find her and choke her with his bare hands, breaking her skinny neck. “I'm coming back for you. We'll storm this place and stop her.”

She held up her hand, and tears slipped from her pale eyes. “Good-bye.”

The doors slid shut. For a moment, he considered going back and tossing her over his shoulder. She might fight him, but at least he'd save her ass. Then he realized that his two minutes were nearly gone. She'd risked a lot to give him those two minutes, and he wasn't going to recklessly toss her gift aside. This might be his one and only chance to rescue her and the men.

Once he was free, he'd gather up an entire army to come back and clean this place out. Jordyn was tough. She'd been in her mother's grip for years. She could hold out long enough for him to gather some men and weapons. He'd come back and save her and make sure she got a fucking medal for her bravery.

 

 

Norma Stynger watched the cameras as S-eleven-sixteen got in one of her cars and drove away. His escape was Jordyn's doing, but then Norma was counting on her daughter's predicable weaknesses.

“How did you get Jordyn to do it?” asked General Bower. “I figured she'd be too afraid of you to defy you.”

“My daughter is defective. Despite my best efforts, she makes decisions based on emotions rather than logic. It's a trait that makes her easy to manipulate.”

“But she has to know what this will cost her. She'll end up right back in the white room again.”

Norma sighed in disappointment. “I refuse to give up on her. One day she'll realize I only want her to succeed.”

“I still don't know how you did it.”

“I sent a memo to research team A that the subject was to be scheduled for an autopsy.”

“But he's still alive.”

Norma nodded. “I knew Jordyn had become attached to him and that she would help him escape if she thought his life was at risk.”

S-eleven-sixteen was hers now. All she had to do was follow him and he'd lead her right to Roxanne Haught and the missing journal. Once that was destroyed and the subject was restrained once again, there would be no evidence floating about, unaccounted for. Her investors would be appeased, and the research could continue.

“Will he do it?”

“Of course. He'll do whatever I tell him to do now.”

“He didn't seem to remember what you told him.”

“If he had, he would have tried to kill me. At least until I triggered him.” Norma entered a code on her cell phone. The alarm sounded inside the compound—a bit of theater to add to the realism of his daring escape.

“Are you sure he's under control?” asked the general.

“He could go to the police.”

“No, he can't,” she said, her confidence unshakable. She trusted her mentor's notes implicitly, and while the procedure was risky, it appeared to be working as promised.

“Why not?”

“Because I told him not to. His orders are to steal a phone and call me as soon as possible.”

“Orders won't control a man like Staite.”

Norma sighed, tired of the general's endless skepticism. “Go and find Jordyn so we can deal with her punishment. She'll be expecting you.”

 

 

Roxanne dressed as fast as she could in the little motel bathroom. Clay had arrived, and Tanner said he'd stall him outside while she put herself back together.

The sleep she'd managed to get had been much needed. While she wasn't fully alert, she felt better than she had only a couple of hours ago—in every way except one.

Tanner knew what she'd done. Would it change the way he looked at her, now that he knew she was a killer? Or even worse, a victim? The last thing she wanted from him was pity.

She pressed a cold washcloth to her face, but it did little to ease her heated skin. She wasn't sure if it was from the shame burning within her, or from remembering his touch, his kisses. He'd worn her out, making her boneless with pleasure, and yet she hadn't had enough. Not even close.

The question was, had he had enough of her? Fucking a killer wasn't exactly something most guys enjoyed, and the ones who did were not the kind of men she wanted to be with.

Once they found Jake, she probably wouldn't see him again. For now, he was assigned to babysitting her, but once that assignment was over, they'd go their separate ways. She'd have her missions; he'd have his. Chances were, their lives would not intersect, especially if Bella heard that they'd slept together.