Living on the Edge

by Shannon K. Butcher

  That sounded a hell of a lot like human trafficking. No way was Sloane going to let Soma do that to Gina. “Do you mean an airstrip? A runway?”

  “Yes. Like that. It’s near my childhood home.”

  “Can you draw a map?” asked Lucas. He dug in a pocket, extracting a small notepad and a stubby pencil.

  The woman drew the map while Lucas moved a few feet away and kept watch on the door to the bar. “Be quick.”

  “If you do not find him here, then he may be at his southern villa. But if you go there, be careful. He has his own army.”

  “How many men?” asked Lucas.

  “Thirty. Maybe more.”

  Sloane kept her eyes on the map as it emerged at the tip of the short pencil. It was small and not to scale, but there were enough landmarks to indicate that it would at least get her closer to Gina’s location.

  “His villa is near the secret building,” said the woman. “My brother and I went there once when we were children. Our friend was caught by armed guards and never seen again.”

  “What is this building? What do they do there?” asked Lucas without looking away from the tavern’s doorway. His hand was at his side, no doubt on the weapons Sloane knew he had hidden under his loose shirt.

  “Bad things. Secret things. Spirits of the dead live there.”

  Sloane wasn’t buying into the whole haunted-building theory, but any landmark they could find was helpful.

  “The men are moving around. Time to go.”

  From inside the bar, Sloane could hear men’s voices getting louder. They were either arguing or planning an attack, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out which.

  “This is where Soma’s villa is,” the woman said, pointing to a small star on the map.

  Sloane nodded and shoved the map in her back pocket as Lucas neared. No way was she going to let him see it. She was going to lose him the first chance she got, and she didn’t want him to be able to find her because he knew where she was headed. Unless he already did.

  “Thank you,” the woman said to Lucas. “I won’t forget you.” She lifted the hem of her skirt, and darted away.

  “I’m leaving. I don’t need an escort.”

  Lucas wrapped his fingers around her arm as they hurried away from the tavern. “I’m out of cash, so there’s no getting rid of me now. Don’t even try it.”

  They left the shadow of small huts into the thick, growing heat of the day. As they skirted between rough hovels, they kept out of sight of the tavern, hoping to avoid any encounters with the drunks.

  “We’re taking my ride,” she announced, pretending she accepted his decree that they’d stay together, rather than fighting about it. And if she couldn’t give him the slip, she’d still have all of her equipment with her once she got to Gina. There was no way to know what she was going to need to get her friend safely home.

  “Fine. Lead the way. Anywhere away from the bar works for me.”

  Her Land Rover was parked well out of sight of the tavern, at the side of the road leading into this village. She had obscured it as much as possible by the creeping green of the jungle and paid a local farmer to guard it while she was away. The Rover was ugly as sin, fitted with mismatched sheets of rusted metal plates for armor that was hell on her MPG, but as long as the bad guys didn’t have large-caliber or armor-piercing rounds, it could take a pile of gunfire and keep going. In this part of the world, she’d take ugly armor over pretty bullets-rip-through-it-like-tissue paint any day of the week.

  The man she’d paid to stand guard over her stuff was sitting there, snoozing against one of the wheels. Sloane peeked inside, saw her stuff was untouched and the doors still locked, then nudged him with the toe of her boot. He woke without a word, and held out his hand for the rest of the cash she’d promised him.

  She handed it over and waited for him to shamble off before she faced Lucas.

  “Give me your gun,” she demanded.

  Lucas crossed his arms over his chest, making the tight green T-shirt he wore under the looser shirt wrinkle between his pecs. “What makes you think I’m armed?”

  “You were packing under a tux in a nice, civilized part of Dallas. The chances of you not carrying here in the middle of the jungle are nonexistent. Now, hand it over.”

  “I’m not going to shoot you.”

  “I know you’re not. You’re not going to have a gun. It’s either that, or I’ll find my own way.”

  “You can trust me.”

  Sloane laughed at him. “Is that what you said to Gina, too, before you abducted her for your boss?”

  “No.” A slight shift in his expression gave Sloane pause. He was surprised by her words, which meant she’d guessed right, or he knew nothing about Gina. Either way, Sloane was in more trouble than she thought.

  “Where is she, Lucas?”

  “I’ll have to show you.”

  “Fine. Just tell me the general direction.” Sloane had the map the young woman had drawn. Lucas had been so busy watching the tavern, he hadn’t paid any attention to it. She knew which way she was headed to find the man who went by the name Gina had given her. Lorenzo Soma. Everyone here knew him, but only a few were actually brave enough risk their lives giving her information. If Lucas hadn’t rescued that woman, she might still be groping in the dark.

  “North.”

  Lucas was wrong according to the map, which meant he wasn’t who he said he was. Unfortunately, it also meant that Sloane’s curiosity was piqued, and she wanted to know who he was even more now. And there was only one way to find out.

  “Fine,” she said. “Give me your gun and you can get in.”

  His wide shoulders drooped in defeat, and he reached under the loose shirt hanging open over his T-shirt and pulled out a semiautomatic. He handed it to her butt first.

  Sloane released the magazine, opened the slide, and made sure the weapon was safe before she stuck it in her waistband. The magazine went into her pocket. “And your holdout weapon.”

  He scowled at her for a prolonged second before he propped his foot on the tire and ripped his ankle holster free, weapon and all. A grimace of pain flashed across his face for a brief second, as if the movement had hurt him, but when he handed the weapon to her, any sign of pain was gone.

  The pistol had a safety, which was on. She tucked the whole rig alongside the driver’s seat, and shut the door.

  Showtime.

  Sloane gave him her most seductive smile—the one that Bella had taught her years ago as the best way to really disarm a man. Lucas’s mouth began to lift in a smile of his own when she lashed out at him.

  He was big and heavy, but she had the element of surprise on her side. She shoved him against the truck, pressing the blade of her forearm against his throat. He was tall enough that it was a bit of a reach to apply the appropriate amount of pressure, but not beyond her ability. With her left hand, she grabbed his balls just hard enough to let him know she had a good grip without hurting him.

  Lucas froze, and a slow, hot smile warmed his mouth. “If you wanted to handle my goods, all you had to do was ask.”

  He wasn’t afraid. Sloane wasn’t sure what to make of that. Maybe she was losing her touch, or maybe he was just playing along, letting her pin him.

  “You’re going to tell me why you’re here, and you’re going to do it now, or I’ll twist and keep twisting until I hear a pop.”

  He moved so fast, Sloane wasn’t sure what had happened. One minute, she had him where she wanted him; the next, she’d somehow traded places. Her back was against the Rover, and her hands were locked behind her, pinned at the small of her back in one of his big fists. His fingers spanned her throat, touching but not hurting her—letting her know that he could if he wanted.

  Her breasts were pressed flat against his hard body, and heat poured off of him, making her sweat in the thick jungle air. Even as hot as she was, she felt her nipples bead up, pressing against him.

  She told herself it was a resp
onse to adrenaline, nothing more. The fact that he was a handsome man with a hard body that smelled like temptation, and said body was flattened against hers, had nothing to do with it.

  He stared down at her, his nostrils flared with anger and his navy blue eyes narrow. “Don’t think that I’m some kind of weakling just because you surprised me in the airport parking lot. Anyone can get in a sucker punch now and then. Even you.”

  “It was more than a sucker punch, and you know it.”

  “No. I don’t. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting you back to the States in one piece, which is exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “Who the hell are you? Why do you care where I go?”

  “I don’t. Your father does.”

  Her father.

  Sloane froze in place, and not even the scalding heat coming from Lucas could do anything to warm her. She hadn’t spoken to her father since she called to tell him Mom had died, and it had been even longer since she’d actually seen him. Five years to be exact.

  She shoved away the rage and grief that threatened to crush her, and forced her voice to come out cold and steady. “I no longer have a father.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Think what you want. I don’t care. Just get your damn hands off of me and let me go.”

  “Not going to happen. I’m putting your ass on a plane and you’re damn well going to stay there if I have to chain you to the seat to make it happen.”

  Sloane stared up at him, venting years of frustration and anger on a man who didn’t rightfully deserve it. Whatever. He was convenient and that was good enough for her. “I will kill you if you try.”

  Lucas had the audacity to laugh at her, letting out a single humorless bark. “You’re outclassed, little girl. You may be tough, but you’re not even close to being tough enough to take me out. Better men than you have tried and failed.”

  “How much is he paying you? I’ll double it.”

  “He’s not paying me a dime.”

  “Then why? Why risk your life coming after me?”

  “That’s personal.”

  “Is he blackmailing you? Threatening you?”

  Lucas studied her face. She felt his dark gaze slide over her cheeks and mouth before coming back to her eyes. “Do you even know the man? He’d never do something like that.”

  “Clearly, you’re the one who doesn’t know him. You’re just like all of his other good little soldiers, sucking up to the glorious general like he’s some kind of god.”

  “I’ve never known a better man.”

  Sloane had to laugh at that. She’d never known a worse one, unless mass murderers, pedophiles, and serial killers were included in the comparison. “You really need to get out more.”

  “You’re not going to go easily, are you?”

  “What? Did the part where I threatened to kill you not sink in?”

  Lucas nodded, his mouth flattening with distaste. “Fine. Have it your way. The Old Man said you wouldn’t come quietly.”

  Oh, no. He had a plan. She could see it in his eyes. He was going to knock her out, or drug her unconscious or tie her up. He was bigger and stronger than she was, and as good as Sloane was, she didn’t think she was good enough to overpower a man trained by her father.

  Before it was too late and he implemented his vile plan, Sloane said, “Okay. I give up. I’ll go with you.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No. Once you get me back home, you can tell him you succeeded.”

  His dark blue eyes narrowed. “And you’ll hop the next flight back here, and I’ll be chasing you again, right?”

  Sloane shrugged as much as her position would allow. “You don’t have to tell him that part.”

  “He’ll know. He’s got your name flagged. Any passenger manifest listing you leaving the country is going to show up on his desk.”

  Sloane had no idea her father had kept tabs on her. Why would he bother? He’d given up on her years ago, right after the last time she’d run away from boarding school.

  “I’ll use a different name, then. Bribe someone to keep me off the manifest.”

  “And when he finds out you were killed here, poking your nose where it didn’t belong? What then?”

  “Are you worried he’ll dishonorably discharge you?”

  His eyelids fell to shadow his eyes. “Not possible. I’m no longer in the U.S. Army.”

  “And you’re still working for him?”

  “I owe him,” was all he said.

  “And he wants me to stay out of Colombia, right?”

  “Right.”

  “He didn’t have any trouble when I went to South Africa, or India, or any one of the dozen other countries I’ve been in this year. Why does he care if I’m here?”

  “He has his reasons. He always does. You’ll be happier if you don’t question them.”

  “You are a good little soldier, aren’t you?”

  “I was,” he said with a mixture of pride and regret. “Now I’m simply an escort, but I’ll do that job as well as I’m able.”

  Sloane refused to care about the hurt she heard in his tone. She didn’t care if he hurt. He was a messenger of evil, sent straight from her father. “I’m not leaving without my friend. She’s trapped here, somewhere, being held against her will. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, short of locking me up or killing me. As soon as your back is turned, I’ll be right back here, doing what I need to do.”

  Lucas’s hand loosened on her throat, sliding down a scant inch. The feel of his callused fingers on her skin should not have even rated notice with her. But it did, and she hated herself for it.

  He stared at her for a long time, and she could see the wheels turning inside that thick skull of his. “How long will it take to find your friend?”

  Hope lit up inside her. He was going to let her go. She could feel it. “Not long. I should have her back by tomorrow night.” It was a bit of a lie, because she wasn’t sure what kind of fortifications Soma’s airstrip might have. She hoped that Gina would be safe with her by then, but there were no guarantees.

  “And as soon as Gina is with you, you’ll go home and not come back?”

  “I promise.” At least that wasn’t a lie. She hated this place and its thick, stifling heat.

  Lucas nodded slowly. “Okay. We’ll go after her. Together.”

  All that hope shriveled up into a tarry, black pile. “I’m sorry,” said Sloane, “but there’s no way in hell I’m going to willingly spend as much as ten minutes with one of my father’s goons, much less an entire twenty-four hours.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not giving you a choice, then.”

  Chapter 4

  Lucas wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle Sloane for stubbornly refusing his help, or slide his hand down a little farther and see if the rest of her was as soft as the damp skin under his fingers. Both options were only going to land him in trouble, so he resisted.

  “You need my help. I need to not piss off one of the most powerful men in the country. It’s a match made in heaven.”

  She stared straight at him, and her green eyes brightened with anger. “I don’t need anything from anyone connected to my father. If I needed help, I would have asked for it from people I trust.”

  As if she couldn’t trust her own flesh and blood? What kind of relationship did they have? Certainly nothing like the comfortable one he had with his folks. “I don’t have some nefarious purpose here. I’ve been straight with you.”

  “Even if you are telling the truth—which I question—you’re just going to get in my way.”

  “You won’t even know I’m there.”

  She looked him up and down, snorted, and one dark eyebrow shot up. “That’s highly unlikely. But if you go back to the hotel by the airport and wait for me there, I’ll pretend like you dragged me back to the United States kicking and screaming. My father will love that. You’ll earn all kinds of brownie points.”

  “I’m not le
aving you,” he stated, cold and hard.

  She stared at him for a long minute, her mouth pressed into a frustrated line. “Fine. Follow behind if you must, but I swear if you draw any unwanted attention my way, I’ll shoot out your tires.”

  “You’re a violent thing, aren’t you?” he asked.

  A slow, devilish smile curved her lips. “You have no idea.”

  Lucas’s gut tightened instinctively, though he couldn’t tell if it was the surge of lust her sexy smile caused, or the fact that he needed to be ready to take a punch. Either way, the reaction was both unwanted and unsettling.

  The Old Man’s daughter was off-limits. Now all he had to do was get his body to recognize that fact. When the general had said by any means necessary, he sure as hell hadn’t been thinking what Lucas was thinking.

  “Where’s your ride?” she asked.

  “Not far. I’ll be back here in two minutes.”

  He stepped away, giving her room to get in her vehicle, which she did faster than he’d expected. She slammed the door shut, locked it, and started the engine. Through the glass, she said, “Sorry. I’m not waiting.”

  Lorenzo Soma stared out over his domain. The lush green landscape soothed him, easing away the tension that had been growing behind his eyes since one of his guests had defied him.

  Gina wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

  “There’s a woman asking about you in the nearby villages,” said Jeremy Block, Lorenzo’s right hand, the only man he truly trusted.

  “There are always women asking about me. It is the nature of power to draw women.”

  “She’s American.”

  Lorenzo gripped the iron railing and felt it vibrate with his anger. No more American women. They were too independent and hard to control. The last one had caused him far too much trouble. “What does she want?”

  “To find you.”

  Lorenzo turned around and studied his lieutenant. Block’s mud brown gaze never wavered—something that most men could not do when Lorenzo stared them down. “Send men to find her.”

  “And when they do, should they bring her here?”

  “No. Kill her. I can’t have any more disruptions. We have to leave to meet Mr. Brink soon, and can’t afford to let a distraction make us late.”