“You don’t have to talk about this, Leigh,” said Payton.
She pulled herself together before Clay reached her, but his feet kept moving. He wrapped his fingers around her biceps, being careful not to squeeze. He wanted to shake the truth out of her, but her pain was so vivid and real, all he could do was stroke the inside of her arm with his thumb. “What have you seen? I need to know.”
Her bottom lip wobbled, but she held herself together. “My brothers. Both of them went through what you’re going through now. I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”
“That’s enough, Leigh,” said Payton.
But it wasn’t enough. Clay still had no idea what to do, but he didn’t want to make Leigh cry. She was barely staying in control.
It pissed him off that he cared enough to worry about some paltry tears. His whole life was a mess, with the pieces he’d thought had fit now scattered all over the place. It shouldn’t have mattered that she cried.
He let go of her and stalked over to Payton. “How do I fix it?”
“You don’t. I do. You stay here where it’s safe and don’t let anyone contact you. Leigh will stay here with you and make sure you don’t try to leave again.”
Like hell. Now that he knew who and what she was, there was no way she was slipping another needle in him.
“How are you going to fix it?” Clay Sx iing demanded.
“I have connections. I’m going to track down the people responsible and deal with them.”
“Connections? Really? You think that whoever did this to me hangs out at political fund-raisers and country clubs?”
Payton’s face darkened with anger, and something shifted in his posture. He went from giving off the relaxed vibes of a pampered socialite to screaming hard-core badass in the blink of an eye. Whoever this man sitting at the table was, he wasn’t the soft, amenable businessman Clay had come to know. This man was dangerous. “I said I’ll deal with it.”
“How?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t. You can’t tell me that someone who has control over me isn’t my concern.”
Payton stood. Determination was evident in the angle of his shoulders, but there was regret lingering in the creases around his pale eyes. “You have to let me do this. It’s too dangerous for you to be out there where you can be found. Hiding is the only way to keep them from triggering you again. Do you understand?”
“I understand that two people looking for the fuckers who did this to me are better than one.”
Leigh touched his arm, so light he almost thought he’d imagined it. “You’re wrong, Clay.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been out of contact for too long.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been away from your phone. They’ll know something’s up.”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“You’re a valuable asset to them. Do you think they’re not going to keep tabs?”
“She’s right,” said Payton. “You’re never without your phone, are you?”
“No. Bella’s policy is for all of us to be on call unless we specifically say we’re on vacation.”
“When was the last time you went anywhere without your phone?”
Clay couldn’t remember. Even now, not having it in his pocket was making him restless and itchy.
In the face of Clay’s lack of response, Leigh said, “Exactly. The people who did this may know that you’re aware of what’s been done to you. If they get their hands on you again, they might never let go.”
The thought made it hard to breathe. He tried to control the panic surging from deep inside, but he was already dealing with so much. When he spoke, his breathlessness gave away his fear. “Is that true, Payton?”
The older man nodded. “It is. But there are worse things than never being yourself again. They could make you hurt the people you love. They could make you hurt Mira.”
No. That couldn’t happen. “I’d find a way to fight it. I’d never do anything bad to her.”
Leigh’s hand fell to her side, and his skin felt cold without her touch.
Payton’s eyes closed for a moment and he swallowed hard. “You wouldn’t even know you were doing it. Trust me on this, Clay. The safest place for you is here with Leigh, where no one can reach you.”
Clay nearly toppled to the floor under the weight of his defeat. He stumbled through the closest door and shut it, not caring where it led. All he knew was that he had to get away and think.
He was left standing in a bathroom, propping himself up against the sink so he wouldn’t fall over.
Just a few minutes alone. That’s all he needed to make sense of all of this and figure out what to do.
He slumped down onto the lid of the toilet. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. A mixture of rage and despair slammed through his veins.
In the past few minutes, his world had been scrambled, leaving him swirling around, trying to find something solid to hold. Every thought he grasped was even more fucked-up than the last, making him wonder if he was completely sane. His mom hadn’t exactly been the most stable woman on the planet. Maybe all of this was some kind of delusion—something he’d inherited from her, along with his creepy amber eyes.
And if he wasn’t insane, the alternative was even worse. He was a puppet. Used. Just like he’d been when he was a kid. He’d promised himself it would never happen again—that no one would ever use him for any reason.
Here he was, a toy for the amusement of others, and he hadn’t even known it.
Clay wasn’t sure how long he sat there, letting his brain spin, trying to make sense of something where there was no sense to be had. His body settled, and the shaking eased enough that he felt like he could stand without puking or falling over.
What was waiting for him on the other side of that door was a fucked-up mess, but one he would face head-on, the way he always did. He wouldn’t let anyone stop him from setting this right and finding the people responsible.
Clay wasn’t the only one they’d hurt. Apparently, they’d hurt Leigh’s brothers, too. That put her and Clay on the same side, somehow. It didn’t mean he trusted her, but she might be the only person who had some clue of what he was going through. Doctor or not, he couldn’t push that away. Not now, when he had nowhere else to go that wouldn’t risk Mira’s life.
He splashed water on his face and left the bathroom. Leigh was sitting near the door, coffee in hand, as if waiting for him to come out.
When she saw him, she straightened in her chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Pissed. Caged. Used.”
She nodded, a flash of sadness dulling her eyes. “Garrett never tells me the truth when I ask him that. He always says he’s fine, even though I know Stho, a flash he’s not.”
“Is that your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Did they find who fucked with his head?”
“No.”
“How does he manage? Is he hiding out in some posh vacation house, too?”
“No. He’s in prison.”
The thought of being locked up made Clay’s core temp plummet. He’d drive off a cliff before he let someone put him behind bars. “What did these fuckers make your brother do? Did he hurt someone?”
She sniffed, staring in her coffee cup while tears glistened in her eyes. After a moment, she was back in control again and the tears were gone as if they’d never been. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He was going to make her talk about it, but she didn’t seem like the kind of woman he could bully. Better to get her to drop her guard and then pull the information out, nice and gentle.
Clay pretended that he didn’t mind changing the subject. “Where’s Payton?”
“He left to start tracking down answers. He said he’d text me when he had news. We’re supposed to stay here until we hear from him.”
The clock on the kitchen
wall said it was nearly dawn. “You look tired. You should get some rest.”
She lifted a dark red brow at that. “You really think I’m going to be that easy to trick? I go to sleep and you sneak out without me?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he lied.
She went to the counter and dug in her purse. When she turned back around, a shiny pair of handcuffs was dangling from one finger. “Payton left them.”
“Kinky.”
“In your dreams. He also said you knew how to pick the lock, so if I’m going to rest, it’ll be with you and me locked up together so I’ll feel it if you try to escape.”
“So I am a prisoner. Just like your brother.”
She flinched, and Clay instantly wanted to take back the callous comment.
“My primary goal is to keep you alive. If that means I have to sleep shackled to a dangerous man I barely know, then that’s the way it is.”
Clay moved closer, closing in on her and those dangling cuffs. “You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All I have to do is knock you out and you’ll never know I picked the lock until I’m long gone. It wouldn’t even take much effort.”
“That’s why I’ve also hidden your car keys. And mine.”
Clay patted his jeans, realizing that Payton must have taken the keys out when he stripped him. Bastard. “I’ll walk.”
“In this weather? You’re not that stupid. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It would take you a day just to get back to civilization where you could call for a ride.”
“I can handle the cold.”
“And where would you go? How exactly are you going to start hunting down whoever did this to you?”
That gave him pause. Normally, he’d start with his phone and try to trace the call that had triggered him, but what if something he heard or saw sent him back into one of those blackouts? “I’ll ask Mira to collect all the calls and texts on my phone and see if any of them are from people I don’t know.”
“And you really think getting her involved is a good idea? Mira is sweet, and smarter than anyone I’ve ever met, but do you really want her mired in this? Do you really want to make her a possible target?”
The fact that hadn’t even crossed his mind proved just how far off his game he was. His judgment was skewed, and he wasn’t thinking straight. No way would he risk Mira. Not even if it meant it was the end of the road for him.
“I’m sorry, Clay. I know how hard this is—sitting around and waiting for someone else to do the work. But we have to trust Payton. If it weren’t for him, both of my brothers would be dead instead of only one.”
Clay wasn’t sure how far his trust would extend, but until he had a better plan of how to attack his problem, there wasn’t much sense in running into battle. Besides, Leigh looked all wilted and exhausted. She needed to rest and not toss and turn, wondering if he was going to try to sneak off.
“Fine. You have my word that I’ll stay here for the rest of the night. Go get some sleep.”
“Do I need the cuffs?”
“Not for sleeping. If you have something else in mind . . .”
She shook her head, smiling as she dropped the cuffs in her purse. “Nice try, Romeo.”
A thrill raced through him as he realized that he’d been the one to make that smile happen. It shouldn’t have mattered in the greater scheme of things. His life was a wreck; his job was at stake; he might have brought down all kinds of misery on the people he cared about. Still, that sweet, faint smile went a long way toward brightening his world.
“Get some sleep. I’ll be a good boy.”
“I’ll take the bedroom at the end of the hall. Wake me if you need me.”
Clay wouldn’t. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was how to stand on his own. As soon as he figured out how to solve this current problem, he’d be back on his own two feet, not needing anything from anyone.
* * *
Grady assigned one of his men to follow ea S to>
Acquire, but do not kill.
Those instructions made the job much harder, but also much more expensive.
One of his men followed Moneybags out into the countryside to an isolated home tucked away on a big chunk of acreage. His man reported back that he’d seen the target inside.
It had taken several hours for Grady to reach the location, but after a thorough scouting of the area, he decided that he liked it. There was no one around to hear gunfire or screams. There was only one person inside with the target—a woman of no consequence. He could kill her and stow her body somewhere only the coyotes would find. Problem solved.
Even the security system was a joke. It hadn’t been updated in at least a year, and Grady was good with tech. It spoke to him, revealing its secrets in a way that made complete sense, unlike people.
Dawn would come soon, and with it all the inherent risks that daylight would bring. Mail delivery, newspaper service, meter readers—they all would come only with morning. Better to have the job done by then.
Grady hiked in to where his man was keepi
ng watch, and settled down to wait for all the movement inside to die down. The couple inside was up late, but that only meant they’d sleep harder when they finally crashed.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Chapter Six
Leigh was a fool to trust Clay.
She tossed in her bed, unable to sleep for fear that when she woke, he’d be gone.
She flipped back the covers and padded to the window for the tenth time in the past hour. Both cars were still there. She hadn’t heard a door open or shut, but there was movement below on the ground. He was slinking around out there, sticking to the shadows, likely trying to figure out how to break a car window and hot-wire it without waking her.
A quick glance at the security system showed that it had been disarmed. Apparently, picking handcuff locks was not his only hobby.
Frustration scratched under her skin, and she barely held back an angry growl.
I can handle the cold.
Sure he could. He was all tough and manly. That didn’t mean he was smart enough to remember he was also human. Without any fat to insulate him, he’d get cold easily, and the thought of him out there in the dark, shivering, was enough to drive her out into the cold herself.
Leigh eyed the loaded syringe sitting on the bedside table. She could dose him again, ensuring he stayed put for at least another few hours. Then she’d be able to sleep in peace.
Of course, if she did that, he would almost certainl V to>
Leigh slipped on a robe she found hanging in the closet and tucked the syringe in the pocket, just in case. She left her room and hurried down the hall, which was open on one side—a minibalcony overlooking the living area below. Shadows of tree limbs blown about by the wind danced across the thick carpet. The moon was bright, giving her plenty of light to see.
Clay’s door was open. She could hear him snoring quietly. As she neared, she saw his bulk lying on the bed.
If he was in bed, then who had she seen outside?
A flicker of motion in the living room below caught her attention. She turned and saw a shadow of a man slide over the floor. In one of his hands was the unmistakable silhouette of a long-barreled gun.
Fear stole her breath for a series of painful heartbeats. She heard blood roar in her ears as it flooded through her, carrying adrenaline to every sparking nerve ending. The urge to scream and run stampeded over her brain.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she was able to move enough to push Clay’s door all the way open and slip inside.
He bolted upright in his bed. Any signs that he’d been asleep were impossible to detect. His eyes were bright and alert, his movement both powerful and fluid.
One look at her face and he was on his feet, heedless of his lack of clothing. Clad only in tight boxers, he seemed to glide across the space, and took her by the arms as if f
earing she’d fall over.
“There’s someone out there,” she whispered, feeling the dry stickiness of her tongue across the roof of her mouth. “He has a gun.”
The look of concern he’d been wearing changed swiftly to something darker and far more frightening. “Stay here.”
He grabbed a handgun from his nightstand and slipped silently out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Leigh stood there in the room for a long moment, trying to make sense of what was happening. She’d known when she’d agreed to help Clay that there’d be danger, but she hadn’t known that it would come from an armed gunman.
* * *
Clay heard the quiet click of the back door’s lock opening. The alarm didn’t go off, telling him that whoever was down there knew what he was doing.
Clay hurried down the steps and pressed his body flat against the wall on the other side of the doorway into the kitchen. The slight recess didn’t hide him completely, but all the lights were off, and it was better than standing out in plain sight, providing a clear shot to whoever was out there.
The back door swung open. Clay could hear the wind howling outside and feel its chill wrap around his bare legs. A moment later, the wind quieted and the breeze stopped. The door was shut.
Eager energy flooded Clay’s bloodstream, making his veins hum with the need for a fight. His body was primed to attack. His weapon was firmly in his grip, ready to be fired.
The man’s footsteps were nearly silent as he crossed the kitchen, but Clay’s whole system was running hot, heightening all of his senses. The ache of bruises and abused bones disappeared as if he’d never been hurt. There was no pain in this space—no fear—only anticipation and the thrill of impending battle.
The man’s right foot came into view, showing the tip of a black combat boot.
Clay’s muscles coiled, preparing to strike. He was willing to kill this man if it came to that, but he much preferred finding out who he was and why he was here. Disabling him was the smarter option.
Another step, and the intruder was within reach.
Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel Page 5
