Walking The Edge: A Romantic Suspense/Espionage Thriller (Corpus Brides Trilogy Book 1) (23 page)

The flat of his hand connected with her face, and she yelped. Her lip burnt with a sting where the skin had broken, blood oozing from the corner.

“You little bitch,” he said. “Don’t you see it’s a chance you should seize?”

“To become a mercenary? Fuck you, Max.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “What do you think we are, eh? Bloody killers, manipulators. It’s what they made us into.” He released her with a push. “Bloody hell, stupid cow. You were already leaving the organization when I caught up with you. Don’t you remember, Fey, how you ran as soon as you learnt of Scott’s death?”

Scott’s death?
What the hell? Scott was well and alive—

Unless this proved a ruse—his own agents thinking him dead.

A flash exploded in her mind, making her moan with pain.

She stood on a big, green lawn. Granite, solid rock, and marble tombstones rose from the lush grass. From where she remained hidden in the shadow of a big chestnut tree, she could clearly see the small gathering next to a wooden coffin a few hundred feet away.

Scott’s coffin. She’d come to pay her final respects to him, even after all that had happened between them. He’d taken her child, yes; but before, and even after, they’d worked together, impersonally, on cases needing both their involvement. She’d held the man in contempt, but she’d respected the boss and mentor.

A middle-aged couple stood next to the priest. They reminded her of rural peasants or fishermen. Their clothes didn’t look the least bit fancy. Deep grief afflicted them; the woman cried without stopping and the man held her shoulders tightly, his back ramrod straight.

So this must be Scott’s family. He’d had a brother, Max, whom she’d met, but Scott had told her the two of them were estranged. Frankly, she hadn’t had any trouble buying it—there existed something cold and snake-like about Max, more sinister than Scott’s edge of darkness. She also hadn’t liked the way Max had looked at her, as if he’d coveted her like a greedy man sought a trophy he could never hope to win fairly. At the thought, she shivered, and forced her mind to return to the present, away from the remembrance of Scott’s sibling.

So those folks there, who were they?
Corpus
agents were encouraged to sever all ties when they came into the organization, most of them orphans or people with rather nomadic connections, to begin with. Some, however, held on to the relationships they’d had before or during their lives as clandestine agents. It proved risky, but it could be done. Especially by case officers, who could chance recognition since they no longer worked in the field.

A young boy accompanied the couple. Tall and blond, he stood slightly aside, and she didn’t pay him much attention. Until he turned in her direction, and she gasped.

His grim, serious face reminded her of someone, though how could that be possible? It seemed as if she stared at a younger version of her own father.

Suddenly, her heart skipped a few beats and she knew.

Her son wasn’t dead; he stood there, such a short distance from her.

It all started to make sense. The couple and the boy at Scott’s funeral—theirs would’ve needed to be a very strong tie, indeed, for Scott not to have severed it.

Scott
hadn’t
killed their child. He’d entrusted him to people who’d never raise anyone’s suspicion. He had sought to protect the boy, even from her, and from the backlash of having secret agents as parents.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the interior of the dim barn without seeing it or Max, who hovered a few feet from her.

Her son was alive, Scott his father.

She’d realized all this at the funeral, and as the memories aligned themselves in her brain, she reckoned how she’d thought of abandoning the
Corpus
to be with her child. Why she’d also left Matthias. The “someone else” she’d mentioned had been her son. Not another lover.

She had to tell Gerard. But how? Max would kill her now she’d clearly stated she wouldn’t ever join his cause.

Unless... “Wait,” she called out to him.

He turned, and she fought down the bile rising up in her throat. “What would you want from me?”

He smiled. “I always knew you’d come round in the end.”

***

French
Provence
. Outskirts of Aix-en-Provence

Wednesday, December 19, 5:28 p.m.

The coordinates led them to the middle of nowhere right out of Aix-en-Provence. Fields of lavender stretched to the horizon. Had Scott kidded them, sent them on a false trail?

No, it couldn’t be. He’d mentioned a safe house. This kind of facility wouldn’t be out in the open and easily detectable.

The voice from the navigation screen said they had reached their destination. Gerard glanced at Rashid.

“Leave the car here. Let’s go on foot,” his friend said.

They concealed the Peugeot as much as they could by parking it behind a massive tree surrounded by wild shrubbery. Then they started across the fields, looking for a barn.

Something caught Gerard’s attention, out in the distance. The barn. He touched Rashid’s sleeve. “Look.”

“There’s no car. You think it’s the one?”

“He could’ve parked it somewhere out of sight. Two doors, though. Front and back.”

“Figure he’s alone?”

“We won’t know until we get nearer.”

They stealthily moved towards the barn. Thick brambles grew around the structure. At first glance, it appeared derelict and completely abandoned. But that’s what they counted on where a safe house was concerned, to attract no suspicion.

Gerard directed his friend to go to the other side of the building. He’d try the front, while Rashid went around the back. He was still weighing his options when he caught sight of his friend signalling him.

The car lay hidden at the back, Rashid informed him.

They’d reached the right location. Now he prayed Max really proved to be the dull knife of the drawer and had come there without backup. They had an advantage over him, since Max thought Scott was dead. In the agent’s mind, no one could give him away.

Pausing by the barn’s door, he took a deep breath. He hoped Rashid was ready to go in from the back. After pushing the panel slightly open, he sneaked inside the dark interior and moved to the side, letting his eyes get accustomed to the reduced light.

He heard people talking.

“Release me. I told you I’d go with you.”

Fey.

For a split second, fear slithered inside him. She’d agreed to do Max’s bidding?

Max laughed. “I may appreciate that you decided to join us, but your
volte-face
came a little too quickly. I prefer to take my precautions.”

Gerard risked a glance around the rusty scrap of metal behind which he crouched, towards where he thought the voices came from.

Fey sat bound to a chair, and Max paced in front of her, seemingly lost in his diatribe.

He noticed a small flash of movement at the back; Rashid had come in, too. Max hadn’t seen anything, though.
Good.

Gerard took a deep breath and stood, moving around the rusted scrap.

“Police,” he shouted. “It’s over, Max.”

Max spun around in surprise. His hand went to the gun at his waistband at the same time Rashid took aim with his Sig.

Max’s gaze shift to Fey; he would kill her next.

The certainty crystallized when Max reached for his gun. Without pausing to think, Gerard aimed and fired, emptying a full magazine. Max went down in a slump, never having had a chance to take aim.

Gerard rushed to her side. “Are you okay?” he asked as he peered into her stricken face.

“I thought you’d given up on me. Gerard, listen to me. He’s alive. My son is alive. It’s because of him I was leaving back then.”

He froze. So it hadn’t been because of another man. Mirka hadn’t betrayed him.

“We better get out of here,” Rashid said, startling them both out of their reunion. He removed a small knife from his pocket and set to work cutting her restraints. “What do we do with the body?”

Gerard hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Leave him here. Scott will have his troops come in soon.”

“Scott?” She gasped.

“I went to him when I figured out Peter, or Max, had gotten to you,” Gerard said as he helped her stand.

She sagged, and he caught her in his arms.

“Scott knows where my son is,” she said, pleading. “You have to take me to him.”

Gerard clenched his jaw. Taking her back to her case officer meant he would be taking her back into the fold of the
Corpus
. She’d be lost to him, then, and who knew what they had in store for her?

“Gerard, please,” she begged.

Unbridled emotion swirled in her big eyes, and he knew her heart beat only for the child she’d thought she’d lost and could now find. The bond between a woman and the child she’d carried in her womb—who was he even to think he could step between them?

“Come,” he finally said. “He’s at the garage.”

As they passed by Max’s body, he turned to Rashid. “Grab his phone. It might contain important information.”

They made their way back to the car. He settled her into the back seat and paused when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Give me your keys. I’ll drive,” Rashid said.

His friend had grasped the direness of the situation. It might be the last time he had her to himself.

It might be the last moment he had with her, full stop.

Blanking all thoughts out of his head, he got into the car and scooped her into his arms. She settled her head against his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek against her hair.

Rashid drove slowly back to Marseille, for which Gerard was grateful. It meant more time with her...before he had to relinquish her to another, probably forever.

*

She also felt the same tension, and willed her mind to focus only on the present. She was with Gerard. For how much longer, she didn’t know.

She’d be going back to Scott and probably to the same old life she’d wanted to leave behind. But she needed to see him. One way or the other, she’d get him to tell her where he had hidden their son.

She still couldn’t believe it. She’d had a child with her case officer. At the same time, she wondered whether the organization knew. What if Scott had manipulated it all so he could conceal their child’s existence even from their superiors?

The rapid pulse of Gerard’s heart pounded against her ear, and she quelled the sob suddenly clogging her throat.

Once again, it would come down to only one possible conclusion—she would willingly leave the man she loved because of her child.

She broke free from his embrace to stare up into his face. His features had tensed. She reached out and softly trailed her fingertips against the stubble-roughened cheeks. He closed his eyes, his mouth drawing to a fine line, as if it hurt for her to touch him like this.

Her palm against his jaw, she made him tilt his head as she leaned up and allowed her mouth to touch his.

The kiss turned out chaste...and totally heartbreaking.

Tell me to stay with you
, she wanted him to say. But he remained silent, and she closed her eyes, tears rolling down her face.

The car stopped. They’d reached the garage.

Without a word, Gerard released her and got out. She followed him, and they both met Scott as he got up from the couch.

Gerard handed him Max’s phone. “He’s dead.”

Scott nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” He turned to her. “Fey.”

“I came back only because I know our son is alive,” she said, wanting to remove any confusion as to her current position.

Surprise blazed in his eyes, then he nodded. “His name is Seth.”

Seth. It’s the name she would’ve given him... Scott had known that.

A car pulled up on the street, and they all turned to look at the black, stretch Mercedes.

“We have to go,” Scott said, taking her arm.

Gerard touched her hand briefly, yet the contact sent shards of pain through her. Her gaze locked with his, and then she turned away and allowed Scott to lead her to the car.

One final goodbye would kill her, so she remained focused solely on what lay in front of her rather than behind.

*

Gerard remained rooted to his spot even after the vehicle had turned the corner. He bunched his hands into fists, and didn’t wince when his fingernails dug into his palms. He welcomed the pain; it would take his mind away from her and the sight of those men taking her from him.

Rashid came up beside him. “Come on, man,” he said. “We better get you inside.”

He remained where he stood, unable to move.

His friend placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let her go, Gerard. That life is not for people like us.”