The Edge of Trust: Team Edge (41 page)

Calm and steady, the second voice was pitched low, and Dillon had to strain to hear it, but it was distinctly Sara’s. 

Alive.  Thank God, Sara was alive. 

And Cummings thought she still had the flash drive. 

Dillon moved down the second hall and made a quick detour toward his computer.

“Fine.  Let’s...until hubby...home.  You...watch me kill...maybe that’ll...your memory.”

After grabbing what he needed, he moved back toward the kitchen.

“If you kill us, you’ll be in prison for the rest of your life.” 

That’s it, Sara.  Keep him talking.  Just a little bit longer.

The kitchen was one of those big open rooms with doorways front and back.  Crouching low, he peered around the corner.  Shiny white porcelain and stainless steel glittered back at him.

Cummings had Sara sitting on a high stool in front of him with the barrel of a gun up against her head.  Her head was cocked sideways from the pressure and Dillon knew she had to be scared, but she was doing a fine job of not showing it. 

“If I don’t get that drive, I’ll go to prison anyway.  They’ll pin me for shooting Craig Duncan, for sending Rodriguez to kill you and everything else.”

“You’re the one who sent that man to kill me?”

“I had to.  But that macho husband of yours got in the way.”

“So leave now.  You could be in Europe or South America before anyone knows you’ve left.”

“No!  I told you, I’m not--”

Dillon stepped into the room. 

Aaron and Jake appeared at the back.

Cummings shoved the barrel of his gun under Sara’s chin.

Dillon pulled an old thumb drive out of his pocket with his left hand, and waved it in the air.  He kept the gun in his right hand trained on the senator’s chest.  “Looking for this?”  He tossed it toward Cummings.  The drive landed with a click and slid.  “There.  Take it.”

Cummings looked at the drive on the floor and then slowly gazed at the three men surrounding him.  He looked like a caged animal.

Suddenly, a loud, angry voice sounded from the hallway.

What the hell?  

Silence ticked by in microseconds just before Matt burst into the room to the right of Dillon.  His shirt was covered in smears of blood and he stopped short about halfway into the large room, swaying on his feet, a huge machine gun pointed directly at Cummings.  “That’s my sister you’re pointing a gun at.” 

“You’re supposed to be dead!”  In agitated fury, Cummings swung his arm toward the new target.

With dead on certainty, Dillon knew Cummings was going to shoot Matt. 

Sara was too close to Cummings.  Her body was snugged up against him, and if Dillon took the shot, he could miss and hit Sara. 

His vision narrowed as he watched the senator’s finger start to tighten on the trigger. 

He blitzed toward Matt.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Sara shouting.  He never took his eyes off the trigger of the senator’s gun.

He was almost there. 

He stretched his body flat out and extended his arms as he pitched forward into the air. 

Cummings fired.

A bullet punched into Dillon’s chest.  He slammed into Matt.  Both men fell. 

Sara lunged for Cummings, knocking him off balance.

Cummings fired again.  Glass shattered. 

More gunshots ripped through the air in echoes of sound.  Cummings staggered back, a look of stunned disbelief on his face.  Then his eyes bulged and he fell lifeless to the floor, inches away from Sara.

<><><>

Sara scrambled to her feet, surprised she wasn’t shot.

But Dillon was. 

She couldn’t breathe.  Her legs started to go.  She sucked in air.  Braced herself against the counter. 

Dillon.

Eyes closed.  Too still.  And blood…oh, Jesus, all that blood…

Fear bit into her chest.  She half ran, half crawled to kneel beside him.  Blood soaked the front of his shirt.  “Somebody call 9-1-1!”  She pressed her hand firmly over the hole in his chest.  Panic buzzed in her head.     

Matt struggled to sit up, then eased himself out from underneath Dillon’s limp body.  Sara kept pressure on the wound but blood bubbled up through her fingers.  Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the men moving around her.  “Don’t…please don’t let him die.”

God had just given her one man she loved back, and now she prayed he wouldn’t take the other.

<><><>

Seconds crawled into hours, hours into eternity.  The faces of the nurses changed periodically, depending on the shift.  Day became night and Sara hadn't heard much beyond that Dillon was still in surgery.

She sat despondently in a molded green chair in a corner of the room with Dillon’s teammates spread out around her, some sleeping, some quietly talking. 

Patched up from a bullet wound in his shoulder, Matt had parked himself in a chair next to her, his long legs stretched out, head thrown back, eyes closed, chest covered with his sleeping niece.  He opened one eye and looked at Sara.  “You doing okay?” 

She nodded and sipped tepid hospital coffee.

“Yeah, me neither.”  Matt blew out a long, sad breath.  “I’m sorry about the pictures.”

“It took me a while, but when I thought about it long enough I figured that you’d probably sent them.  Being Vega, you’d have had access.  Your way of getting me mad enough to leave so I’d be safe.  Kinda backfired.”

“Yeah.  Kinda.”  He rubbed Ellie’s back in small circles.  “When I got in with Sanchez, I was sick.  Worried.  I wanted you safe, I’m so--

She patted his knee.  “I know.  I’m sorry too.”

Matt nodded, looking miserable.

“What made you go under?  Become Vega?”

“Got wind of what Cummings was up to.  Knew Dillon was under with Sanchez.  Craig made it happen.  Can’t really say more than that.” 

“What about that meet on the dock a year ago?”

“Cummings crossed every wire he could.  Mine, Dillon’s, the admiral’s, Craig’s.  I don’t know if he wanted Dillon dead or wanted to take over the SBC.  Hell, maybe both.  Probably both.”  Matt shifted the baby to his uninjured shoulder.  “That night was a major clusterfuck.  No one had the right intel.”

Sara sighed and set her coffee on an end table.  “Those three years under, and especially the last one, really took a toll on Dillon.  First he lost Adoña and Dreena, then his entire--”

“No he didn’t.  Adoña and Dreena are alive and well.”

“What?  How?  Are you sure?”

“Last I heard, which would have been yesterday, Adoña and Dreena were on their way out of the country, thanks to Craig and the admiral.”

“But Dillon said…he said he saw the car explode.”

“He did.  But what he didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that Craig’s been keeping tabs on Cummings for years, hoping to catch that dumb fuck.  Adoña wanted out.  Too dangerous for Dreena, all that.  Said she’d feed Cummings information if he arranged for Sanchez, and everyone else, to think she’d died.  So he did.”   

“I’ll tell Dillon when he’s feeling up to it.  He’ll be so glad to hear they’re alive and--”

“Mrs. Caldwell?”

Sara's head jerked up.  Standing with a thick file and a calm look on his face, a doctor in stained green scrubs searched for her.

Her stomach pitched.  Legs shaking, she stood and twisted her hands together.  Matt stood beside her and, still holding Ellie, wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  “Yes?”

The doctor strode forward.  Exhaustion lined his features.  “I’m Dr. Reynolds.  I operated on your husband.”

And?
  She wanted to scream.  Was he okay?  Conscious?  Was he even alive?  “Is he--?”

“He’s fine.  Barely groggy.  He’s out of recovery and in ICU.  Would you like to see him now?”

She nodded.  Yes, she desperately wanted to see him.  Problem was, did he want to see her?

With a slight smile and nod, Dr. Reynolds said, “Right this way,” and led them through the corridors of controlled chaos, deftly maneuvering around gurneys, nurses, and various hospital staff.

Matt held his girls tightly to his side.  If it weren’t for men, good men, like her brother and her husband, bad men like Sanchez and Cummings would still be free to destroy lives and murder innocent people. 

At the door to the room, Matt handed off Ellie and Sara hugged the waking baby to her chest.  Steeling herself, she walked all the way into the small room and stood at the foot of Dillon’s bed. 

He was awake, looking pale, a little rough around the edges, but okay.  He was okay. 

She wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it. 

Tell me you love me.  Tell me everything’s going to be all right.  Tell me you want me in your life forever.

He turned his gaze in her direction.  And the look of wonder, of awe, of sheer joy in his eyes, said everything.

Her heart lifted.  “She has your eyes.  Ocean blue and bright as the sun.”

“And your chin.  She’ll be stubborn, you know,” he said, his voice a little wobbly.  “Probably insist on her own moat.”  He sat up as much as the tubes and wires would allow, and held out his arms.  “May I?”

Sara settled the baby in Dillon’s arms and thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful.  He nuzzled Ellie’s hair, kissed her little bow mouth.  Her fist latched onto his cheek and she pulled at his face.  Examined him closely.  Then stuck her thumb in her mouth and rested her head against her daddy’s chest and sighed in contentment.

Matt coughed into his hand.  “I hate to interrupt this, but I wanted to say thanks.”

Dillon briefly turned his attention to Matt.  “I heard from Craig Duncan that I owe you one.  Thanks for saving Sara’s life.”  He grinned.  “Even if you did nearly drown her.”

Matt grinned back.  “I guess we’re even then.  Thanks for taking my bullet.”

Dillon gave him a rueful look and rubbed the spot in his chest where the bullet had been.  “Can’t say it was a pleasure, but I can say that should be the last bullet I’m going to take.  The admiral’s going to let me teach.” 

Dillon turned to Sara and smiled at her with those beautiful blue eyes of his and she felt the warmth in his gaze all the way to her heart.  Then he looked back at Matt and asked, “So, how come I never knew you were DEA?  I thought you were an archaeologist turned ex-con drug dealer.”

“You never knew because Craig Duncan is good.  Really good.  Hell, he had me wondering half the time just whose side I was on.” 

Sara poked Matt on the arm.  “Tell him how you got away from Sanchez.”

“After Sanchez made me, he threw me in some cell and the strangest thing happened.  This girl, Lena...er, Maggie, unlocks the cell one day, and asks me if I can get her off the compound.  Pronto.  Says she’s got a way out of the jungle, and the next thing I knew, we were out of there with Ellie and I was headed back home.  Then I heard about you two, Cummings, Sanchez, and well, the rest as they say, is history.” 

Sara leaned over and kissed Dillon gently on the lips.  “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Not a chance.  You’re never going to lose me.  Not even if you try.”  He paused and took a deep breath.  “I love you, Sara.”  He clung to Ellie.  “And this baby of ours.  Gonna have to buy a shotgun in a few years.  Keep the boys at bay.”

Her heart soared.  “And a shovel.  Plastic.  We’re gonna need a shovel to build that moat I’ve been after.”

With his heart in his eyes, Dillon smiled and said, “Piece of cake.”

#  #  #

Thank you for reading The EDGE Of TRUST.

The EDGE Of HONOR

(Book Two of the EDGE Series)

Will be Jake’s story

It has a tentative release date of fall 2012

(Please note:  Book two was due out during the summer of 2012 but in June I found out my husband had bladder cancer so the release date was pushed from summer to fall.  Please understand that I am working as hard as I can to get this next book out to my readers and fans ASAP.  Thank you all.)

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Read an excerpt on the next page!

THE EDGE OF HONOR

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end
.  – Seneca

Prologue

Romans 7:14: The law is good, then. The
trouble
is not with the law but with me, because I am sold into slavery, with sin as my master.

The monster in Sidney Matthews’ closet was real.

Night after night, as he tried so desperately to sink into sleep, terror ran through his thin, child’s body. 

How many nights had he lain in horror and shame waiting for his mother to come to his bed?  A hundred?  A thousand?  She came, but not as a mother.  Mothers read you quietly lulling bedtime stories, tucked you in, kissed you on the forehead and turned out the light. 

Not Sidney’s mother.  No, Sidney’s mother came to him on whispering heels in the dark of night, long after the house was quiet, long past his bedtime, long after his father had closed his door with a promise of sweet dreams to come.

Sidney never had sweet dreams.  Sidney had nightmares of a devil-woman with maleficent blonde hair, despicably naked under a blue peignoir, and instead of a children’s story, she came armed with the Word of God.

Blood is life.

The first lash of the belt seared into his skin.