Razor's Edge (41 page)

He used both his hands now, putting all his strength into controlling Jake's arm, hoping to keep the weapon aimed away from both Roxanne and himself.

Jake bared his teeth and shoved his free hand under Tanner's chin. He pressed up, wrenching Tanner's head back, grinding it into the concrete.

Pain seared his skull, throbbing in time to the bullet hole in his side. The dizziness returned with a vengeance, canting his world on its side. Something in the back of his neck popped. His vision wavered. The heel of Jake's hand dug into his throat, choking off his air.

Between black blobs, Tanner saw Roxanne appear above them. She held a metal chair over her head, biting her bottom lip in anguish at what she was about to do. A second later, the chair came whizzing down at them. She smashed it across Jake's back. Tanner felt the jolt, but Jake bore the brunt of it. He rolled away. The gun fell from his hand and scraped across the floor. Tanner's vision started to clear as he sucked in gulps of oxygen, but not fast enough to see where the weapon had gone. He pushed himself up, trying to right the spinning room.

Every revolution of his world showed him that Jake was only a few feet away, on all fours. He shook his head as if to clear it. Blood slid down under his ear and dripped from his chin.

Tanner didn't dare wait for him to regain his senses. He could barely stand, but he had no choice. Roxanne was already following up, chair in hand to whack him again.

He searched for the gun, but his focus was off, and all the gray concrete and black shadows ran together. He couldn't tell what was what.

“Jake, it's me,” said Roxanne. “You don't want to hurt me. You need to fight whatever they did to you.”

A low, rumbling growl emanated from Jake's chest. He pushed up to his knees, and his gaze fixed on her. His cold expression promised death.

Her voice was quiet and hollow with grief. “You know me. I'm your friend. I love you.”

What Tanner wouldn't have given to hear her say those words to him. The need struck him out of the blue, making his thoughts reel for a moment before he gathered his focus once again.

“Get back!” he shouted at Roxanne. Jake was too strong for her. He'd kill her if he got his hands on her.

Tanner wasn't going to let it happen. He wasn't going to lose her. He took a sloppy step forward, lost his balance, and crashed to the floor. His poor body registered the pain, but there was so much pounding through him, it hardly seemed to matter.

He heard metal scrape over concrete. The gun. It was nearby.

He followed the sound, using his hands rather than his eyes to search for the weapon. It was their best chance at surviving this, and while he hated the idea of shooting Jake, he'd rather Roxanne never speak to him again than see her lying in a casket.

His hands hit something hard and warm. The weapon. The barrel was heated from firing.

Tanner gripped the gun, rejoicing in the feel of the hard steel in his palm. His vision still sucked, and the dizziness was going to make getting an accurate shot a crapshoot, but the noise of the weapon alone would draw Jake's attention away from Roxanne.

Jake was on his feet, his head down, his hands poised to strike, his body coiled to spring toward her. Roxanne backed away, batting at him with the chair to keep him at a distance. He angled his approach, forcing her to move to the left. She bumped into a workbench, and it funneled her toward a corner. Jake had trapped her.

Three seconds from now, he'd have her cornered, and that chair would do her no good.

Fear and anger coalesced inside his gut, allowing him to shrug off the effects of his injuries for a moment. Adrenaline poured through his veins, making his heart beat hard and fast. His senses sharpened and the pain dulled until he could feel the trickle of blood from his side and the chill of the bloody fabric clinging to his ribs, but the burning was a distant, inconsequential memory. The dizziness still plagued him, but the spin of the room had slowed so that it no longer made him queasy.

Jake closed the distance. Roxanne hit the wall and looked around for a means of escape. To her credit, she stayed calm, and when she saw no place to go, she went on the offensive. The chair flew at Jake's head. At the same time, she went low, executing a sweeping kick that knocked him off his feet.

He went down. Roxanne vaulted the workbench and ran toward Tanner.

Tanner stayed on the floor, knowing that if he tried to stand, it would only make his aim that much shakier.

Before she made it three steps, Jake launched himself at her, grabbing hold of her legs. She fell, barely catching herself before her head hit the concrete.

Tanner tried to find a shot, but they were too close together, and his whole world was on a merry-go-round.

Jake grabbed her ankles and dragged her over the floor. She flipped onto her back, raising her hands to fend off his attacks.

Tanner lifted the barrel and fired into the air.

Jake's head snapped up, and his gaze met Tanner's. Then it went to the weapon that wobbled visibly in Tanner's grip.

Jake smiled. “She's first. You're next.”

Roxanne slammed her fist into his jaw. It didn't even slow him down. She was too close to the ground to maneuver and give her blows the momentum they needed. He ignored her punches and kicks, smashing her down with the weight of his body.

He grabbed her head in his hands, and Tanner knew what came next. One swift twist, the snap of delicate bones, and she'd be dead.

Rage boiled through him, coming out in a roar of defiance. He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He knew he risked shooting her. They were so close together, wriggling around, it was hard to tell where their bodies met.

Tanner pulled in a steadying breath, and when the world swung back around, he aimed and fired.

Jake yelled in pain, clutching his thigh. Roxanne scrambled out from under him, backing away like a crab toward Tanner.

Jake pushed awkwardly to his feet and limped toward them.

He aimed again, this time for the man's chest. He wasn't wearing body armor. It was a killing blow.

“Don't kill him,” she pleaded.

Tanner hesitated. He didn't want to kill this man, but he didn't want to ask Roxanne to do it, either. And it was becoming increasingly obvious that one of them was going to have to kill him to stop him.

Blood soaked Jake's pants. His gait was slow and shambling. Milliseconds drifted by as indecision and guilt weighed him down.

Roxanne grabbed Tanner's arm and helped him to his feet. She shoved her shoulder under him, helping him stay upright. They backed up. Tanner kept the gun aimed at Jake.

Above, staring through that office window was Bower, camera in hand.

There was a purpose to all of this—a sinister one that Tanner couldn't let go unchecked.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered to Roxanne; then he fired the gun at Jake.

R
oxanne realized that Tanner was going to shoot Jake again, but she was too late to stop it. She reached for the weapon, but it fired, bucking in Tanner's big hands.

Jake toppled to the ground, letting out a bellow of pain and rage. She hesitated only a moment before rushing to his side. As soon as she got within reach, he grabbed for her, snarling in fury.

She jumped back, avoiding his hands, her heart breaking for her friend.

Tanner fired again. Roxanne yelped in surprise, expecting to see Jake's chest burst open. Instead, glass shattered and fell to the floor in a waterfall of sparkling shards.

She looked up and saw the office window above broken out.

“He's coming for us,” said Tanner, grabbing her arm. “We have to go.”

“We can't leave Jake here.”

“I know.” He handed her the gun. “Cover me.”

She didn't know what he meant until he moved toward Jake, his face grim.

“I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but it's the only choice.”

Both of Jake's legs were bleeding—one calf and one thigh. Blood soaked his pants and coated his hands. His movements were clumsy, but his ferocity was complete. He snarled at Tanner, swiping at him in an effort to reach some part of his body.

Tanner wasn't too steady on his feet, and he kept blinking as though trying to clear something from his eyes.

Jake lunged forward, taking a firm grip on Tanner's leg. Immediately, Tanner went down to one knee, slamming his elbow against Jake's head. Jake was stunned, and his fingers slipped on Tanner's leg. He hit Jake again, and this time, Jake collapsed, unconscious.

Roxanne saw movement from the corner of her eye. It was Bower, hurrying down the steps. His gun was raised, pointed right at Tanner's broad back.

She fired, hitting Bower's shoulder. He reeled back, catching himself on the stair railing. He fired back, and she felt her clothes tug against her skin as the bullet ripped through them.

She steadied her weapon and fired again, this time hitting his chest. He screamed as he went down.

Roxanne raced to him, keeping the weapon ready. He was wheezing. Blood pooled on the fabric of his shirt.

She pinned him down under her foot. “Tell me what you did to Jake. Tell me how to undo it.”

“He's . . . ours.”

She shifted her foot until it was against the wound and exerted pressure. He let out a sickening cry of pain and went deathly pale. “Tell me how to undo it.”

“Can't undo. He's—” His words stopped cold, and his whole body started to shake like he was having a seizure.

Roxanne recoiled from the sight, and by the time she'd taken two steps, Bower had gone still. He was dead.

She'd failed. Jake was free, but he wasn't the same. Whatever these people had done had changed him, and she prayed to God they'd find a way to change it back.

Grief and regret made her go cold. Her hands shook, and she had to struggle to turn around and look at Jake, knowing how deeply she'd failed him.

“Time to go,” said Tanner as he flung Jake over his shoulder. She could see the struggle it was to stay on his feet, but there was no time to wait for him to recover. They had to get out of here.

“There are more armed men outside,” he told her. “At least four.”

She released the magazine from the gun and counted the rounds she had left. “Five left.” Not enough.

Despite her revulsion, she went to Bower's body and retrieved his weapon. It was nearly full, so it went in the back of her waistband, just in case. She grabbed up his phone and dialed Reid.

She didn't wait for him to talk but simply said, “We need an extraction for three.”

“Where?”

“I don't know. Some kind of factory. Can you trace this phone to a cell tower?”

Tanner said, “Tell them we're south of the meeting point. Maybe five miles.”

She did.

“Is the situation under control?” asked Reid.

“No, there are armed guards outside. At least four. I don't know if they called for backup, so expect company.”

Tanner had moved to a door and checked to make sure it was locked. He leaned against it, swaying slightly from side to side. He was in bad shape. So was Jake.

She lowered her voice. “We've got injuries.”

“How bad?”

Her throat tightened with worry, cutting off her ability to speak. She swallowed, trying not to think of what could happen to the two men she loved. “One is unconscious.”

Fear filled Reid's voice. “Tanner?”

“No. Jake.”

She heard a low breath of relief, and then words of reassurance. “Hold tight, Razor. We're on the way.”

Tanner propped his weight against the door and listened for the sound of men approaching. Reid and the others weren't going to make it in time. Tanner was dizzy as hell, and bleeding, though not as badly as Jake was. He didn't dare set the other man down long enough to patch him up, because he knew their only real chance was to run. He could barely hold his own head up, and there was no way Roxanne could hold off four men armed with combat rifles with two partially loaded pistols. If he put Jake down, he wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to pick him back up again.

Roxanne scanned the room, watching the shadowy corridors at the back of the factory. Even with the blood streaking her chin and the bruises on her face and throat, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

He loved her. It didn't matter that he wasn't supposed to because they worked together, or that she was so far out of his league it was laughable. All that mattered was that when he looked at her, his heart swelled and his whole world felt right. The little bit of time they'd had together wasn't nearly enough. He wanted more.