“No. Now, Leigh.” His voice was steady, but his hands were still shaking.
She was exhausted from lack of sleep and being terrified way too often. She hadn’t slept more than a few minutes since she’d met Clay, and while she had learned to function on little sleep in med school, her skills were rusty.
“Okay,” she told him. “We’ll head that way, but I can’t keep going at this pace. I need sleep and food. So do you.”
He grimaced as if the idea of eating turned his stomach. “I’ve had plenty of sleep, thanks to your knockout drugs. I’ll drive.”
“Look at your hands. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Clay splayed his hands and watched them shake. He curled his fingers into tight fists, straining the healing cuts. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
She doubted that, but rather than argue, she got back on the highway and headed toward Dallas. Near midnight, she was no longer able to keep going. Hunger and post-adrenaline letdown were sapping her strength and making her dangerous behind the wheel.
“I have to stop,” she told Clay, who had not uttered a single word in more than an hour.
He shot her a look of frustration and disappointment but didn’t argue.
She pulled into a restaurant that was open all night, hoping they would have something Clay could eat. The engine fell silent. She took off her seat belt and got out. He didn’t move to open the door.
She leaned over to look at him sitting inside the car. “Are you coming in with me?”
“Not hungry.”
“That may be, but now that Anton has seen my face, I don’t exactly feel safe alone.” She really doubted that anyone would find her here, much less do anything to her while she was in public. But it was as good an excuse as any to get him to come in. She didn’t trust him not to run off alone if he thought he could get away with it.
A startled look crossed his face, as if he hadn’t considered that. “You’re right. Sorry.”
He followed her inside. The place was mostly empty, with just one man sitting alone at a table, reading a book.
After seeing her seated, Clay went to the bathroom. She watched him go in, making sure he wasn’t trying to slip back out to the car without her knowledge.
The waitress came to the table, and Leigh ordered enough food for both of them, pretending it was all for her. Maybe if the food was in front of him, he’d eat it.
Clay came back out.
“I got you ginger ale. Hope that’s okay.”
He shrugged as i sh">
Uncomfortable silence descended between them. She searched for a safe topic—one that would pull him out of this funk and get him to relax enough to eat. When nothing came to mind, she let out a sigh she hadn’t meant to be so loud.
His gaze snapped to her face and then slipped down to her breasts.
Her shirt was still unbuttoned from the playacting she’d done earlier. A rush of embarrassment washed over her, and she moved to fix the slutty display. Before her fingers reached the first button, Clay’s clenched jaw relaxed and his shoulders eased down from their tensed position. A hot look of pure male interest darkened his eyes as his pupils expanded. His whole body began to settle into the booth, the rigid tension melting away.
He picked up his glass and drank.
Leigh let her hands fall back to her lap. All those lovely little chemicals caused by arousal were being released in his brain, and while she hadn’t intentionally chosen to turn him on, a good dose of lust was just what the doctor ordered.
Letting him stare should have made her feel dirty. It would have with another man. Instead, she found his apparent inability to look away thrilling. And after what she’d been through over the past few hours, she deserved to feel something other than fear and anger.
Enjoying the rush of feminine power, she leaned forward. His eyes tracked her movement, his lids lowering. A dark flush peeked out from under the collar of his T-shirt, and he shed his leather jacket.
Now it was her turn to stare as he propped his arms on the table. Muscles in his shoulders flexed and shifted, pulling his shirt tight.
It was just bone and tissue. It shouldn’t have had the power to make her feel anything, but she’d run her hands over him and knew the texture and heat of his skin. And with him staring at her as if she might be a tasty treat, she found it impossible to look at him with anything resembling clinical detachment.
The waitress set the food down in front of Leigh, eyeing her warily. The slutty makeup, the display of cleavage, the mussed hair and bruises—it apparently wasn’t something the waitress saw every day.
She looked at Clay. “Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head, his gaze still fixed on Leigh.
She dug into her food, keeping her attention away from Clay. His stare was too intense, his rapt attention too unnerving.
He followed her fork to her mouth, watched the bite of pancakes disappear. His throat moved as he swallowed. She gathered another bite and extended it across the table to him. “They’re really good. Try some. I’ve got more than I can eat.”
He sat still for a moment but then leaned forward and covered her hand with his, holding it steady. The heat of his hand was shocking. A faint tremor moved up her arm, but she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers.
He opened his mouth and ate what she offered, letting his lips slide slowly over the owl his ortines of the fork.
She ate another bite, acutely aware that only a moment before his lips had been where hers were. Again he watched her, and this time he picked up his own fork and pulled a plate of eggs in front of him.
A shiver worked its way up her back, sinking in at the nape of her neck. A primitive sense of satisfaction filled her up, so raw and powerful she was shocked by the force of it. Something as simple as getting him to eat should not have given her so much pleasure, and yet she couldn’t deny it, shining bright inside of her, making her glow.
Leigh stayed silent, worried that if she called attention to his actions, she’d ruin it somehow. Instead, they ate in silence. He offered her a bit of biscuit, which she ate from his fingertips.
Nothing so plain had ever tasted that good before.
She stopped when she was full, but Clay kept going, emptying the plates. When the last crumb was gone, he sat back and regarded her with a steady stare. “Thanks,” he said simply.
“For what?”
“The food. The distraction.” His gaze flickered to her breasts for a split second before returning to her eyes. “I’m better now. Solid.”
“You were always solid. You just needed to remember it.”
He let that pass by without comment. “You look tired. Let’s find a place for you to sleep.”
Part of her worried that if she slept she’d wake up to find him gone. The rest of her worried what would happen before she slept. Desire hummed through her, making her weak. His physical interest in her was obvious. The two of them together, alone, was a dangerous combination right now. If he looked at her with that hunger she’d seen earlier, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist giving him what he wanted—only this time it would be more than food.
“Show me your hands,” she said.
He frowned in question but held them out as she’d asked. They were rock steady.
She nodded. “I know you’re anxious to go. You drive. I’ll sleep in the car.”
A hint of disappointment flashed over his expression before he hid it. She had no idea if he was disappointed because she didn’t trust him or b
ecause he’d hoped to have the chance to seduce her.
“I promise you that I’ll find you a real bed to sleep in soon. I just need to know what’s at those coordinates. Once I do, we can figure out our next move.”
He’d included her in his plans. That was a good sign—one that said he wasn’t looking to get rid of her at the first opportunity.
Knowing the possible danger they faced, she wasn’t sure if that made her feel better
or much, much worse.
Chapter Twelve
Clay had a job to do. That’s what both Anton and the intruder in the house had said. At first, he’d thought that buying the kids for the doctor was the job, but as he ran the conversation with Anton through his head again, he realized what Anton had said. Clay had rescheduled the shipment because he’d had a job to do, which implied that the shipment wasn’t the job.
So what was it?
As the car flew through the miles, he racked his brain for some scrap of information that would tell him what it was he’d been told to do. Whoever was behind this—that doctor or someone else—was using him for a specific task. If he could find out what it was, then it might lead him back to them, allowing him to locate them and rid the planet of their diseased presence.
He tried not to think about what was happening to those kids, while alternately struggling to figure out where he’d taken them. Those thoughts were bleak and led him into a dark place where he couldn’t function. He had to stay level and keep his wits about him. Floundering around, swamped by guilt and fear, wasn’t going to save those kids.
There was no way to know how many there were. If he hadn’t been so shocked by the news of what he’d done, he might have been smart enough to question Anton more thoroughly.
At least he was thinking clearly now. Food had done wonders for his sluggish brain and driven away some of the lethargy that had been dragging him down. From here on out, he had to stay sharp, and if that meant forcing himself to eat, then that’s what he’d do.
Especially if Leigh gave him another peep show.
She’d done it on purpose. He realized that now. A professional woman who dressed herself modestly every day was not the kind of woman to forget that her tits were on display.
He’d been obvious in his leering—too brain-dead to have even a hint of subterfuge about him. She could have buttoned up at any time, and yet she hadn’t. He’d stared and she’d let him, and that distraction had helped ease the kinks that had him all tied in knots, unable to function.
Of course it had also given him all kinds of fuel for future fantasies and left his cock twitching at the memory.
Leigh was curled up in the seat beside him, sleeping, his jacket rolled up to act as a pillow. He checked the locks on the doors again for the fiftieth time, making sure she wasn’t going to tumble out headfirst.
As he reached the coordinates—a state park—he pulled into the camping area. This time of year there were only a few RVs and campers nearby. Keeping his distance from them so he wouldn’t disturb anyone, he turned on a light to check the list of coordinates against the GPS. Unlike the bar near the border, his locations on the night he’d been doused in blood were more sporadic. Mira had tried to group together sections of time by location, but on that night, he’d never stayed in any one place for more than ten minutes. And while most of his time had been spent inside the park, there was no way to know which place was most important. It was a lot of ground to cover, and he didn’t know how much time he had before the next horrible thing hrripent iappened. He could flip out again or, if Leigh’s guess was right about some sort of homing beacon in his brain, he could simply go back to whoever had done this, putting himself squarely under their control.
If they knew that he was no longer unaware of his actions, they might simply lock him up. Or even worse, they could turn him into the mindless puppet forever, taking away all signs of his free will.
Like fucking hell they would. There was too much at stake for him to mess this up. He needed to track down the bastards and end them before they got their hands on more kids. Period.
There were still a few more hours before daylight. He had a flashlight, and his night vision was pretty good. He could head out and start scouting, but he didn’t want Leigh to wake up and find him gone. And he couldn’t stand the thought of waking her. She’d been through too much since meeting him. The least he could do was let her rest.
The tick of a potential time bomb clicked away in his head, counting the seconds. With each one, his anxiety rose, making the muscles along the back of his skull knot. A dull throb started in his neck and crept over his head until it bored into his eyes.
Leigh shifted in her sleep, turning to face him. Her shirt was buttoned up again, hiding her breasts from his sight. He still remembered exactly what they looked like—smooth and pale, with her freckles disappearing near the edge of her bra. Even the memory was potent enough to make his cock swell inside his jeans.
Her hair was a mess again, tangled around her face in an almost wanton display that contrasted sharply with the innocence of sleep. The dark makeup she’d put on earlier was smudged around her eyes. The bruises that he’d given her were cast in shadows, but he could see them as clearly as if she were standing in sunlight.
He accepted the sickening punch to the gut seeing the damage caused, suffering through it as his due punishment. Without thinking, he reached up and slid his finger gently along the marks he’d left on her jaw, wishing he could take them back. The soft heat of her skin trickled into him, easing some of his tension by reminding him that she was alive and well. Not as good as she should have been had she stayed away from him, but at least she was safe for now.
She let out a soft, mewling sound of sleepy contentment—one that vibrated all the way to his core. It aroused him and consoled him all at the same time, curling around him like an embrace.
Clay forced his hand away from her before he accidentally woke her.
There were people around. It would be dawn soon. Leigh was as close to safe as she was going to get, and every second he spent with her was one more she was in danger.
He needed this to be over. Waiting around was not a luxury he could afford, no matter how sweet the view was. His smartest move was to set out and follow the path he’d taken the last time he was here. If he was lucky, he’d find some clue as to what he’d done that night and how to make sure he never did it again.
Clay scribbled a note so she’d know he hadn’t abandoned her, and left it on the dashboard. His jacket had tumbled to the floorboard when she’d rolled over. He spread it out over heit d kr like a blanket, so she wouldn’t freeze when he shut off the engine. As soon as he was sure she’d be warm enough, he grabbed a sweatshirt from his duffel bag to keep himself warm and collected the map and GPS. His loaded weapon went into the back of his waistband, ready to go if he needed it.
Clay slipped from the car and locked it up tight. A glance through the window confirmed that his actions hadn’t woken her, proving just how exhausted she must be. His gaze lingered for a moment, his feet seemingly glued to the cold pavement. He didn’t want to walk away from her, and if that wasn’t proof of just how far off the deep end he’d gone, he didn’t know what was.
With a force of will, he turned his back and walked away, heading toward the first set of coordinates.
* * *
Leigh sensed Clay’s absence before she opened her eyes. The car felt empty without him, laced with a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Faint morning sunlight streamed in through the windows. She blinked the sleep from her eyes as she took note of her surroundings. A few yards away, an elderly man descended from a RV and hurried off toward the campground showers.
Maybe that’s where Clay had gone.
It was just after six in the morning, and despite the car’s confines, she’d slept hard. Her neck was stiff, and one of her arms was numb from lying on it, but other than that, she felt human again.
A small piece of paper sat propped on the dashboard. She read Clay’s note about scouting the area, and all signs of sleep vanished as a lance of fear plowed through her.
He’d gone out alone. She should have expected it. She should have taken those damn handcuffs with her and kept him chained to her.
As fear for him settled into frustration, she reminded herself that he was a grown man and more than capable of handling himself. So long as he didn’t have another one of
those freaky, vacant blackout sessions.
Leigh had no idea in which direction he’d gone, and she wasn’t about to blindly stumble into the park after him. The best thing she could do was wait here, where he’d left her, and hope that he came back soon.
And when he did, she was going to have a long talk with him about the rules. No more running off alone. It was too dangerous.
She gathered a few things, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and headed for the bathrooms to clean up. She showered, changed, and did the best she could to cover her bruises with makeup. She hated the way Clay looked at them with guilt in his eyes. She hated the way it shoved a wedge of distance between them. She needed to keep him close, and constantly reminding him of actions he could not control was not the way to make that happen.
When she came out, she saw a shiny new Mustang sitting in the lot. The driver was idling in front of her back bumper, blocking her car in. He was busy talking on the phone, looking the other way, and hadn’t noticed her yet.
Leigh’s instincts perked up from their dormant state, whispering to her of danger.
She slipped back around the brick wall hiding the bathroom entrance and grabbed a mirror from her bag. Showing as little of her fingers as possible, she held the mirror at the edge of her hiding place and watched the man in the Mustang.
A minute later, another man slid out from under her car and hopped in the stranger’s ride, and they drove off together.
Leigh went cold and stepped back into the steamy bathroom, hoping it would rid her of this horrible chill of dread. There was no way she was going back to her car now. What if they’d planted a bomb? But she couldn’t hide in here, either. Once Clay came back, he’d head straight for the car. There were no windows in the bathroom. She wouldn’t be able to see him coming and warn him. And she couldn’t stand out in the open. What if the Mustang came back?
Shaking and unsteady on her feet, she made a beeline for the RV where she’d seen the elderly man earlier. She knocked on the door, praying someone was inside.
A white-haired woman opened the door. She was dressed in a housecoat and had foam curlers in her hair.
Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel Page 12
