Edge of Surrender

by Laura Griffin

  Or maybe it was something much more complicated, something she shouldn’t allow herself to dwell on if she wanted to get through this crazy experience with her heart intact.

  A highway sign came into view, and Emma didn’t recognize any of the towns listed. They really were off the beaten path, which suited her fine.

  She looked across the truck at the man who’d helped her out of so many dangerous situations she was losing count now. He seemed deep in thought over everything she’d told him.

  Deep in thought was good. Much easier to ignore than the way he’d been earlier, sliding those heated glances over her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or—even harder to ignore—the tender way he’d looked at her when he’d pulled over and asked if she’d been raped. A lot of men wouldn’t have had the guts to ask, but Ryan didn’t shy away from anything, no matter how uncomfortable. He faced problems head-on. It was yet another thing she admired about him. She had quite a list going.

  Emma settled her head against the side of their stolen truck, the truck she fully intended to replace if she ever got through this.

  Ryan glanced at her. “Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “Telling me your theory.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for saving my life. Again.”

  FIVE

  * * *

  Emma was out cold.

  Ryan kept his eyes on the road, but he was completely aware of her every shift, every sigh. She was curled in her seat, resting her hand against the window and using it as a pillow. Her bare feet were tucked under her, flip-flops discarded on the floor.

  A gas station came into view. Ryan swung into the parking lot and surveyed the cars and trucks as he pulled up to a pump. They were miles from the nearest interstate.

  Emma sat up groggily and looked around. “What are we doing?”

  “Taking inventory.”

  She gazed up at him with her bottomless brown eyes. Those eyes of hers did something to him, messed with his head. They made him want things he knew he could never have.

  “Inventory?”

  “We need provisions.” Ryan pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. “I’ve got forty-eight dollars. Any chance you got any cash on you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Didn’t think so. Credit cards are out if we want to stay off the grid.” He looked at the neon sign above the door, and she followed his gaze.

  “So . . . you want me to hold up this convenience store for you? Maybe mug a few old ladies on their way out of the restroom?”

  “Funny.” He handed her a twenty. “Tell them we need fifteen dollars on pump two. Use the rest for food.”

  She looked at him a long moment, then took the bill, clearly uneasy about accepting his money. But she didn’t have much choice. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I’ll pay you back.”

  He snorted.

  “I will.”

  “Look for protein,” he advised as she climbed out of the truck. “Maybe some barbecue sandwiches.”

  He kept his eyes on her as she stepped through the doors and paid the cashier. He watched her movements, thinking about everything that had happened in a few short days.

  She was still upset with him about this morning and embarrassed about last night. Sex hadn’t been in the plan, but everything had gotten out of control. He’d thought he could protect her. He’d thought he could comfort her and make her feel safe. He’d even thought he could spend the night with her without giving into temptation, but he’d been dead wrong.

  Problem was, now he couldn’t get enough of her. One taste, and he was hooked, he craved her. But she was in a seriously bad situation, and all this lust simmering inside him wasn’t helping anyone.

  He focused on his plan as he gassed up the truck. His chief objective was to keep her safely hidden until she was ready to come forward and talk to investigators. Which investigators, Ryan didn’t know. But he wouldn’t allow her to reach out to anyone until he’d done some investigating of his own.

  As the numbers scrolled on the pump, Ryan scanned the parking lot for potential threats. He was one-hundred-percent sure they hadn’t been tailed from the city, and he’d picked this gas station because it was out of the way. He powered up his dormant cell phone and called Jake.

  “Whoa, man. Where the hell you been?”

  “On the move,” Ryan said. “Emma needed some space.”

  “Yeah? Well, I can relate. The FBI is very anxious to meet with you two.”

  “I know.”

  “Any chance you want to swing by their office, maybe get some of these suits off my back?”

  “Maybe later.”

  Silence on the line. Ryan debated what to tell Jake and decided on nothing. Not right now.

  “Seriously, Ryan, they need to talk to her. They want to know where she is and what she knows.”

  “She’s with me. And she’s not feeling very talkative at the moment, so they’ll just have to wait.”

  More silence. Ryan could feel Jake’s disapproval through the phone.

  “I need a favor,” Ryan said. “I need you to contact Emma’s dad, let him know she’s secure. I can text you his private number. Can you do that for me?”

  “Shit, I’ll do anything. You know that. But you need to think about this, Ryan. This girl’s father is a congressman. She’s rich and connected. I know she’s in a jam, but someone else can help her out of this thing.”

  “Are you telling me to walk away?” Anger swelled in Ryan’s chest, even though he knew Jake was only looking out for him.

  “I’m telling you to think about your career, man. You worked your whole life to get where you are, to get on this crew. You need to think about what’s on the line if you help this girl.”

  “What about what’s on the line if I don’t?”

  Jake didn’t respond. Ryan unhooked the nozzle and replaced it, keeping a sharp eye on the store.

  “One other thing,” Ryan said, as Emma emerged wearing a plaid flannel shirt and carrying a plastic bag. “There’s something screwy going on with the feds. This Agent Mays, can we trust her?”

  A few beats of silence passed. “Possibly,” Jake said. “I’ll find out.”

  “The faster the better. I’m ditching this phone now, but I’ll be in touch.”

  “Take care, brother.”

  “Roger that.”

  Ryan texted the congressman’s number. Then he popped out the battery and dropped the phone into a trash can as Emma neared the truck.

  “Want me to take a turn driving?” she asked.

  “No. Where’d you get the shirt?”

  “I bartered for it.”

  She swung open the door with a squeak and hopped inside the truck. Just having her close to him made him feel worlds better, and he knew he was in trouble.

  He pulled out of the lot.

  “Bartered with what?”

  “A woman in the ladies’ room complimented my earrings, so I offered her a trade.”

  “You traded gold for flannel?”

  She shrugged. “Something I didn’t need for something I did.” She flipped up the sleeves, which were far too long for her. The woman in the ladies’ room had to be related to Paul Bunyan. “Anyway, my torn blouse was attracting attention.”

  Ryan trained his attention on the road. It wasn’t her torn clothes that attracted attention, it was her body. Emma was stacked, and there wasn’t a man at that gas station who hadn’t noticed. But if she wanted to hide herself under oversized flannel, that was fine with him.

  “You sure you don’t want me to take a turn?” she asked. “You must be tired of driving.”

  “I’m fine. We’re almost there.”

  “Where?” She looked around at the highway lined with pine trees. “There’s no way we have money for a motel.”r />
  “I spoke to Jake,” he said, changing the subject.

  “What, just now?”

  “Yeah. The FBI wants to talk to you.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That you’ll talk when you’re ready.” He glanced at her. “And I asked him to let your father know you’re safe.”

  She looked away, and he could feel the tension ratchet up.

  Emma had issues with her dad, deep-rooted issues that Ryan was pretty sure had to do with her mom dying when she was young. Ryan couldn’t be certain, though. She’d accused him of being secretive, but she had plenty of secrets of her own.

  “Where is he, exactly?” she asked.

  “Washington, last time I talked to him. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on his way out here by now. I know the FBI told him that you’d been kidnapped. They thought there might be a ransom call.”

  She sat there quietly, absorbing his words. And also absorbing the words he hadn’t said, which were that she’d been right about her father. Mitchell Wright hadn’t done what he’d said he planned to do when Ryan called him to discuss the threat to Emma’s safety. He hadn’t flown to California to set up a security detail for her. Instead, he’d sent a staffer, just as Emma had predicted. So was the congressman on his way here now? Ryan didn’t know or even care. He didn’t have much opinion of a man who would blow off a threat to his own family.

  They rode in silence, Emma gazing out the window with that look on her face. Ryan wanted to know what she was thinking. Was she thinking about her dad or the trauma she’d just been through? Was she worried about the future? She looked scared, and he hated that. He wanted her to feel safe with him. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to know there was nothing he wouldn’t do to get her through this.

  “Jake say anything else?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “I guess the FBI must be all over him, since he’s the only one who really knows where we are.” She looked at him, and he detected a question underneath the words.

  “You can trust Jake,” Ryan told her. “That’s ironclad.”

  “I know.”

  He looked at her again, but her face seemed neutral. Maybe she knew, and maybe she didn’t. She was reluctant to trust people, but right now she didn’t have much choice.

  She tucked her legs up beside her, and Ryan managed to keep his attention on the road. A few more miles, and he spotted the sign he’d been looking for. He slowed and made the turnoff, and Emma glanced around.

  “We’re spending the night here?” she asked, obviously alarmed.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Actually, Ryan could think of about a thousand reasons why not, starting with the fact that he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands off her.

  ———

  Jake watched Alexa walk in. He liked the flicker of heat in her eyes when her gaze landed on him.

  She crossed the bar and slid onto the heavy leather stool beside him.

  “Pretty upscale watering hole.” She glanced across the quiet hotel bar to the wall of windows with a sweeping view of the Pacific Ocean.

  “Thought you’d be more comfortable,” Jake said.

  “Me?”

  “The kind of places I normally go, you’d stand out in a suit.” Jake flagged the bartender. “Looks like you could use a drink. Long night?”

  “It’s not over yet.”

  A tuxedo-clad bartender came over. She ordered a club soda. Jake ordered a bourbon and turned to face her, giving her a slow once-over that she pretended not to notice.

  “I take it your raid on Orion Shipping didn’t go as planned?”

  She shot him a look. “You guys blew the op.”

  Jake smiled. “We didn’t blow the op. Emma Wright did when she gave her captors the slip.”

  Their drinks arrived. Alexa squeezed her lime with a bit too much force.

  “Even if she hadn’t, you would have blown it anyway.”

  She glared at him. “How’s that?”

  “Your team staged three blocks from the target. They saw you coming.”

  She took a sip and plunked the glass down, then checked her watch. “Look, I really didn’t come here to talk SWAT 101. You said you had an update on Emma Wright. And it had better include her whereabouts.”

  “She’s safe.”

  “Where?”

  “Under the protection of a highly trained operator.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Hmm . . . you mean Ryan Owen? The man we have on video boosting a car six hours ago?” She leaned closer, and Jake caught a faint whiff of her perfume. “That’s a felony, Lieutenant. Throw in obstruction of justice, and your friend’s SEAL career could be over.”

  “Relax.” He picked up his drink. “Emma plans to talk to you.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. We just have some questions first about Ricky Avedo, the head of Orion Shipping.”

  She sat back, clearly surprised. “His father’s the head.”

  “In the Philippines, yeah. But over here, I understand Ricky’s top dog.”

  She watched him thoughtfully. “What are your questions?”

  “What’s Ricky Avedo’s connection to Ambassador Conner?”

  She held his gaze. “I’m not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation.”

  Her nonanswer told him a hell of a lot. And she obviously knew it. She watched him over the rim of her club soda and then carefully placed the glass on the bar.

  “You seem like you’re enjoying this, Lieutenant.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This game you’re playing while you’re on leave.”

  She leaned close again, and he saw the flare of heat in her eyes. She wasn’t happy with how things had gone down this afternoon, and she didn’t like not being in control.

  “I’m on the task force investigating your mission,” she said. “And I’ll give you credit. You and your teammates rescued an injured civilian and got her home safely. Why you’re still involved at this point, I can only guess. But I have to warn you, it’s time to back out now. You’re in over your heads with this thing.”

  Jake smiled. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  Jake sipped his drink, watching her. She was right—Ryan was in over his head. But not the way she meant. Jake had never seen him so worked up over a woman, and he worried that Ryan wasn’t thinking clearly. He was allowing sex to cloud his judgment.

  Mays looked at him impatiently. “I’m giving you a heads-up here. Ricky Avedo’s connected to people you don’t want to know. His criminal enterprise stretches wider and farther than you can imagine. Drugs. Human trafficking. Racketeering.”

  “Then why don’t you arrest him?”

  “I’d love to.” She slid her empty glass away. “Our office is building a case against him right now, and I have this funny feeling Emma Wright might be able to help us out.” She watched him expectantly. “If only we could talk to her.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good. But do it soon.” She stood up. “Emma might think she’s safe because she’s got a SEAL with her, but I’m sorry to tell you that’s an illusion.”

  “You think?”

  “I know. If she’s on Avedo’s blacklist, she’s not safe anywhere.”

  SIX

  * * *

  Emma’s entire day had been surreal, and the night was shaping up to be more so.

  They were in possession of a stolen vehicle. They’d eaten a hearty dinner of beef jerky and sports gel, and now Ryan was at work on a tent he’d salvaged from the lost-and-found bin at Pine Creek Campground.

  Moonlight filtered through the spruce trees as he crouched beside the tent, pounding a stake into the ground with a tire iron. Their campsite was little more than a patch of di
rt at the end of a wooded trail. The campground itself lacked showers and electrical hookups, but it was well off the beaten path. Plus, the attendant had taken cash payment without requiring ID, which was what mattered most to Emma. They were off the grid, and she should be able to relax here, if only for a few hours.

  But she wasn’t relaxed at all. From the picnic table, she watched Ryan work, trying to settle her nerves with a cold swig of Coke. Just seeing his easy athleticism put an anxious flutter in her stomach.

  This was such a bad idea. With every passing hour, she felt herself getting more and more attached. And he wasn’t the sort of man she could afford to get attached to. Ryan didn’t do relationships. Harrowing rescue missions? No sweat. Escape-and-evasion maneuvers? Sure thing.

  But she somehow knew that stable, committed relationships weren’t in his wheelhouse.

  What in the hell was she doing here?

  He gave a last hard thwack and stood up to examine his handiwork. “Think I know why someone left it behind.” He looked at her.

  “It seems a little . . . tilted.”

  “It is.” He tossed the tire iron away and joined her at the scarred wooden table, straddling the bench as he sat down. “It’ll work, though. There’s no rain in the forecast, at least.” He took a swill of Coke and nodded at the tent. “So what do you think?”

  “Looks perfect for you.” She stood up and gathered the trash from their dinner, then deposited everything in a raccoon-proof receptacle nearby. She stepped toward the pickup, and he caught her arm, hauling her into his lap.

  “For me?” His voice was low and ominous.

  “I plan to sleep in the truck.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  She tried to stand up, but he only managed to get a better hold on her. Trying to wrestle out of his grasp was futile, so she went still.

  “I just built you a tent,” he said.

  “You built you a tent. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, too. But I prefer the truck.”

  His hold on her loosened, and she thought she was in the clear until his hands settled on her hips, sending little shivers through her. His face was shadowed in the moonlight, but she could see the heat in his eyes as his hands curved around her butt.