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Rough Edges

Page 8

by Shannon K. Butcher


  She was pretty. Distractingly so. Her skin was so pale from lack of sun he could see a delicate network of veins just below the surface. There was a slight pink flush in her cheeks that warmed her complexion, but it was her eyes that held his attention. Light gray-green, fringed with long black lashes and filled with the kind of compassion he never thought he’d see here.

  She closed the door behind herself and pushed the cart into the center of the room. “Peter wasn’t feeling well, so I’m here to take your vitals.”

  It was a lie. He could see it in the way she couldn’t hold his gaze, in the minute shift of muscles around her eyes and mouth.

  “He’s sick?” asked Gage, hoping to trip her up in her lie so he could figure out what her game was.

  Had they realized he was making his move tonight? Had something he’d done given away his intentions? If so, he couldn’t think of what it might be. He’d been careful in the way only a man whose life is on the line could be.

  “Something he ate,” she said. Another lie.

  She opened a case and took out a stethoscope. Her hands were shaking.

  Fear? Nerves? Did she know something he didn’t?

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Jordyn. Have a seat, please.”

  He did as she asked, wondering if he was going to have to lull another lab tech into a false sense of confidence. If so, that could take weeks, though he had to admit that the scenery this time would be a whole lot nicer.

  She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. It took her a couple of tries to get it right, telling him that either this was not her normal job, or he was making her nervous.

  Her light, feminine scent drifted to his nose, sparking something in the deepest, most primal part of his brain. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but she no longer felt like a complete stranger to him. For reasons he couldn’t name, he felt like he knew her.

  Maybe she was a walking form of chemical warfare, laced with something to throw him off guard.

  If so, he was half convinced she’d just won a damn big battle.

  “Will you tell Peter I hope he feels better soon?” asked Gage.

  Jordyn went still with the stethoscope halfway to her ears. “I will. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Caring. There’s not enough of that down here.”

  Ah, so they were underground. That was a little piece of information that would no doubt prove useful at some point.

  Gage wondered what else he could get her to tell him. He wasn’t normally much for conversation, but he’d make an exception if it meant accomplishing his mission.

  “No one will tell me why I’m here,” he said, hoping she’d take the bait.

  She remained silent while she took his blood pressure and recorded it. He played along, refusing to push. This kind of interrogation was more about enticing and coaxing than it was about force.

  She pressed two fingers against his wrist to take his pulse. They were icy cold, and his protective male instincts hot-wired his brain for a second as he took her hands in his to warm them.

  Her lips parted in surprise. She even let out a little gasp, but she didn’t pull away.

  Gage let the small victory course through him. Perhaps he was better off listening to his instincts with this woman. His brain had served him well, but he was still locked up down here, and the only piece of information he’d been able to collect had been from Jordyn’s lovely mouth.

  He pressed her hands flat against his chest and covered them, pinning them against his warmth.

  A flicker of something passed through her eyes, but they closed before he could tell what it was. She stood there for a moment, eyes closed, completely vulnerable, letting him warm her hands.

  Didn’t she know how dangerous it was to be this close to him? Had no one warned her to keep her distance?

  The idea that she wasn’t protecting herself set his teeth on edge. He didn’t like her putting herself in danger, though he had no idea why he cared. She worked for Stynger. That made her suspect at best and enemy at worst.

  Didn’t it?

  After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and looked at him. Even though the room was brightly lit, her pupils were large enough to drive a truck through them.

  Either she was drugged, or really liked what she saw.

  Gage wished it was the latter for several reasons, most of which he had no business considering. The rest of them would make this job so much easier. If she was attracted to him, he could use that to his advantage. All he had to do was play along. Let her think he was interested.

  That wasn’t going to be hard at all. She was lovely in a rare, unattainable kind of way, like an orchid growing from a sheer cliff. Only she smelled far better than any flower ever could.

  Her voice had a bit of roughness to it, like she didn’t speak very often. “Rumor is you came here of your own free will. Shouldn’t you know why you’re here?”

  “I know why I came, not why I’m still here. Alive, I mean.” He looked straight into her eyes and asked, “Do you?”

  She glanced nervously at the camera and pulled her chilly fingers out of his reach, turning her back to him. “No, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s not my place.”

  When she turned back around, she had a needle and several empty vials in her hands. Her face was empty of the feminine interest he’d glimpsed earlier.

  So much for winning her over.

  He extended his arm to let her do what she’d come to do. They’d taken blood from him every few days. He had no idea why they wanted it, but was afraid that if he asked her, she’d clam up even more.

  His job was to learn what he could, escape, and contact Bella so she could take this whole place down. The idea wasn’t nearly as compelling as it had been before Jordyn had walked into his room. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he didn’t want her to be here when the shit hit the fan.

  Which was a ridiculous notion.

  Maybe they had drugged him with something more than the sedative they pumped into his room every night. Maybe whatever they’d given him had already started screwing with his good judgment. Maybe she was doing the screwing.

  She finished taking his blood and set everything on the cart. She would leave now, and his opportunity to escape would go right along with her.

  His fingers grazed the drawstring at his waist. It wouldn’t take much to rip that free and wrap it around her slender throat. He wouldn’t even have to kill her. He’d just knock her out, take her key card and find the exit.

  Of course, part of his plan had been stealing the nerd’s lab coat to help him blend in, and there was no way the one Jordyn wore would stretch across his shoulders.

  She turned to face him. Her back was to the camera. He didn’t know if it was monitored or not, but he needed only a few seconds to knock her out and clear the door.

  “Is there anything you need?” she asked. Her voice dropped to a faint whisper. “A book to read, maybe?”

  Reading would alter his schedule, but if she was offering gifts, he didn’t want to turn them down and shove a wedge between them. Better to accept what she wanted to give him and show his gratitude. “Yes. Thank you.”

  She reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a small leather-bound book of poetry. He’d just as soon gouge his own eyes out one at a time with flimsy sporks as read it, but smiled anyway as he took it from her hands.

  His fingertips grazed hers, and he felt the connection wing down his spine like an electric current.

  Her eyes met his and he watched as her pupils expanded to eat up the pretty gray-green ring.

  Again she spoke in a whisper. “My favorite one is on page thirty-two. You should read it and tell me what you think.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll try to come back to
morrow so we can discuss it.”

  Great. Now he had to actually read the thing or offend her. “I look forward to it.”

  “You’re not allowed to have the book, so you should tuck it away somewhere safe.”

  He realized now that she’d been using her body to hide what they were doing from the camera. Her whispers were probably hard to pick up with most microphones, confirming his suspicion that he was being monitored that way, too.

  Gage leaned forward so she could hear his quiet words. “I won’t rat you out. Promise.”

  Her slender shoulders sagged in relief. He didn’t think she was faking her reaction, which meant that she wasn’t just planting the book to get him in trouble or to see where he might hide it, leading them to find other things he might have hidden.

  He hadn’t. Not that there’d been anything to hide. Every contact that had been made with him had been carefully controlled.

  Until this one.

  So what had changed? Why send her now? If she was meant to rattle him, why not send her before?

  He had no idea what to make of it, and until he did, it was best if he kept up with his normal routine and pretended like nothing had changed.

  “I have to go now,” she said.

  “I hope to see you again,” he said, and interestingly, it wasn’t a lie. He did want to see her again.

  She left. Gage sat on his bed for several minutes while her scent dissipated. He was almost convinced that as soon as it did, his mind would start running smoothly again. If she was a walking chemical weapon, surely her power over him would fade as soon as she was gone.

  It didn’t. Instead, his thoughts stayed fixed on her, trying to piece together the puzzle she created. When nothing came to him, he angled his body so that the camera couldn’t see and opened the book to page thirty-two.

  Inside was a stick of chewing gum acting as a bookmark. The poem on the page was titled “On Your Side.” He opened the foil wrapper carefully, wondering if it might contain some kind of poison. What he found was far more intriguing. She’d written on the inside of the wrapper, Use the gum to plug the tube under the bed. Pretend to sleep.

  Gage didn’t know what the note meant, but there was only one way to find out. He popped the gum in his mouth and flushed the wrapper down the toilet. If Jordyn was truly on his side, there was no way he was going to let her get caught helping him. And if she wasn’t on his side, he’d overpower her and escape without the benefit of a lab coat that fit or the hindrance of guilt over hurting an unarmed woman.

  * * *

  Randolph answered his phone out of fear, rather than any sense of duty to the woman he worked for. “Yes?”

  “It’s been hours. Has the second dose been administered yet?” asked Norma Stynger.

  He briefly thought about lying, but decided that was too high of a risk. “She hasn’t been home yet. She only left the office a few minutes ago.”

  “Your job was to ensure she was subjected to the drug once a day for several days. Are you telling me you failed?”

  “She has to go home and shower sometime.”

  “And if she doesn’t? If she leaves town again or spends the night at work?”

  “Security at the Edge is too high for me to sneak in, especially after I took care of that other thing you wanted.”

  “I wanted you to frighten her, to increase her output of adrenaline to trigger the serum.”

  “That’s what I did.”

  “No, you killed one of my men and gave the enemy another device to reverse engineer.”

  “But Bella was scared. My contact at the Edge confirmed that.” Lila wasn’t of much use, but there were a few things she was good at. Reporting about her boss’s emotional state after the attack at the office had been one of them.

  “You’re careless,” Stynger said. “Perhaps you should come in and we’ll work on that flaw.”

  Panic flowed through Randolph’s system. He knew what she meant—that she would fuck with his head until he did whatever she asked of him. Even if it meant drilling a hole in his skull and shoving one of her precious devices inside.

  “I’ve got this,” he hurried to reassure her. “I’ll make sure she gets the next dose soon.”

  “You’d better. If she goes without it for too long, we’ll have to start the process all over again. My test results will be skewed, and I’ll be very displeased.”

  “You just worry about the relocation. I’ll handle Bella.”

  “See that you do,” Stynger said. “Or I will make you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bella was still shaking by the time she pulled into her driveway at home.

  What the hell was she thinking letting Victor pull her in like that? And hugging her? That was so far out of line, she didn’t even know what to call it. Insubordination seemed a tad extreme, especially considering how good it felt. Disrespectful was closer to the mark, but even that left a bad taste in her mouth. His intent seemed pure, if a bit misguided.

  The real problem was that she’d liked the hug far too much. Between the shitty day she’d had, which had caused a basic human need for comfort, and the way he lit her body up with physical need, being in his arms had been pretty fucking awesome.

  If only he hadn’t talked and screwed things up like that, they would have gone a lot further than just hugging. If she was smart, she’d thank him for opening his mouth and stopping her from making what would undoubtedly have been a huge mistake.

  Exhaustion bore down on her. She hadn’t slept well last night, and had spent the entire day knotted with nerves. Attackers with lethal intent had a way of taking the energy out of a woman like nothing else could. Sure, the adrenaline rush kept her high for a while, but the crash was brutal, and Bella was definitely crashing.

  She took several deep breaths and forced herself to get out of her truck and go inside. Her legs were heavy. Her feet felt like they weighed ten tons each. The stairs leading to her door seemed more like scaling a mountain than a quick climb.

  The lights were on, reminding her that Franklin was in there, waiting for her return. All she had left to do before falling into bed was to smile and thank him for his efforts.

  Even that seemed like almost too much work.

  She unlocked her front door and stepped inside. The smell of lemon cleaner filled her nose, telling her the team had taken a bit of extra time in their efforts to make sure her house was free of danger.

  Franklin came out of the kitchen wearing yellow rubber gloves. His gray T-shirt was stained with bleach spots, and there were smudges of dirt on his face and forearms. The knees of his jeans looked like they’d been used to clean an engine.

  As soon as he saw it was her, all the color drained from his face. He looked genuinely afraid, and he wasn’t a man who scared easily. “I know you’re going to be pissed, but please understand I had no choice.”

  She wasn’t going to be pissed that he cleaned. Saved her the trouble of caring enough to do the job herself. “Let your neat freak flag fly at my house all you like, sweetheart. I don’t mind.”

  He looked at the gloves as if just realizing he wore them. “It’s not that. It’s . . . the other thing.”

  Bella stifled a growl. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Whatever the other thing is, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  She headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water, but Franklin stepped in her path. His voice was a mix of fear and apology. “Payton’s in there.”

  “Oh, hell, no.” She shoved past the young man, and sure enough, Payton was sitting at her kitchen table, sipping hot tea. “Get the fuck out,” she ordered.

  “I tried to call. Apparently you’ve blocked my number.”

  “You think? Perhaps because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “That’s enough, Bella. Your childish tantrums aren’t going to he
lp Gage.”

  She opened her mouth to show him what a real childish tantrum looked like when his words finally registered through the fog of her exhaustion. “What about Gage?”

  “We have reason to believe he’ll be moved soon.”

  “Moved? From where? How do you know this? And who the hell is we?”

  “Norwood contacted me an hour ago. He’s been working his own angles.”

  “And you hid this from me?”

  “No. I swear I didn’t. He didn’t tell me anything until tonight. He knew I might share with you, and he wasn’t ready for that.”

  Bella turned to Franklin just long enough to say, “Thank you for watching the house. Now go home.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asked. “Play referee?”

  She lifted her eyebrows and stared at him. That was enough to send him scurrying away.

  “Were you worried about what he might hear?” asked Payton. “Or about having a witness to your impending violence?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. As much as I want to punch you in the face, you’re not worth even a single night in jail for assault. Now spill. Where is Gage?”

  “We don’t know. All Norwood got was a bit of chatter between two people we know work for Stynger.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Only that there’s some kind of important cargo being moved tonight.”

  “And you think it’s Gage?”

  “One of them slipped and said he instead of it. We’re assuming the cargo is human rather than a lab animal.”

  She shoved away her exhaustion and forced herself to start putting together a plan. “Where?”

  “As soon as I tell you that, you’ll fly out of here to go after him.”

  “He’s my friend—a concept with which you’re doubtlessly unfamiliar.”

  “Bella,” he said, in that paternal tone that set her teeth on edge.

  “Don’t. Just don’t. There’s no time for one of your lectures. Where is Gage?”

  “I’ll tell you under one condition.”

 

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