On The Edge Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  About the Author

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  About the Author

  ON THE EDGE

  Rebecca Deel

  Cover by Melody Simmons

  Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Deel

  All rights reserved.

  #

  To my husband, the love of my life.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Grace Rutledge glanced in her rearview mirror. Her stomach knotted. The bright headlights remained. Probably a coincidence. Highway 18 was the main road between Otter Creek and Interstate 40. She’d spent an enjoyable afternoon with her best friend from college, shopping in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Chances were good someone else from Otter Creek was also on the way home on this cool spring evening.

  She forced aside the uneasiness she felt. Hanging around the man she’d been dating for almost a year made her see danger everywhere. Trent St. Claire, a Navy SEAL who worked for Fortress Security, was constantly expecting trouble wherever he went.

  Grace’s lips curved. What trouble would find her in the backwater town of Otter Creek? Although criminal activity popped up around town, their police department was populated by officers with extraordinary skills and backgrounds for a town this size.

  Another glance in the mirror showed the headlights had moved closer to her sedan. Thirteen miles to go. Grace gripped the wheel tighter as she pressed harder on the accelerator, hoping to create distance between her and the other vehicle.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when the lights faded. She’d worried over nothing. That’s what she got for spending so much time with a Navy SEAL.

  Grace’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of her dark-haired boyfriend. Tall, dark, and deadly, that was Trent St. Claire. He hid a soft heart from everyone but those closest to him, and Grace was happy she was included in that number.

  Trent had deployed on a mission a week earlier and Grace missed him so much she ached. She hoped he missed her, though not to the extent that he endangered himself or his teammates. Trent St. Claire was fast becoming as necessary to Grace as breathing.

  Bright light illuminated the interior of her car. Grace looked in the mirror again, gasped. Oh, man. The vehicle behind her bore down on her. This guy must be going twenty or thirty miles over the speed limit.

  She sped up again, going as fast as she dared on this winding stretch of the highway. Hopefully he’d go around her since he was in such a hurry. Grace hated this part of the drive to Otter Creek, especially at night. Blind spots were plentiful, and it wasn’t uncommon for wildlife to cross the roadway. She’d narrowly missed hitting a deer two weeks ago.

  Another check of the mirror. “Go around, buddy,” she murmured. “I’m not going faster than this. And if you don’t slow down, I’ll be seeing you at the hospital.” The driver behind her kept coming.

  Grace eased her car to the right, praying the driver would take the hint and scoot around her. No such luck. Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She wished she was driving Trent’s vehicle. His SUV was reinforced with armor. She could use the protection now. Her lips quirked. Maybe she’d talk to Trent about reinforcing her car.

  What was this guy’s problem? Grace cast a worried glance over her shoulder. The view didn’t look any better than it did in the mirror. She might be in real trouble. This driver wasn’t falling back or zooming past. Grace had never seen a driver this aggressive. She felt targeted, hunted, which was crazy. As far as she knew, she hadn’t cut him off or done anything to make him angry.

  Not afraid to admit she was scared, she grabbed her cell phone and called the second number on her speed dial. No use calling the first number. Trent might still be out of the country. She didn’t know when he would return. She never did.

  “How are you, sugar?” Rio Kincaid’s voice stilled some of her bone-deep fear. Trent’s brother-in-law was the medic for one of the Fortress teams based in Otter Creek.

  “Rio, I need help.” Even to her own ears, her voice was tight.

  “What’s wrong, Grace?”

  “I’m on Highway 18, about 12 miles from Otter Creek. There’s a vehicle behind me and the driver’s pretty aggressive. I’ve sped up, eased over, and he’s still coming. He’s close enough to blind me with his headlights.”

  “Is there a place for you to pull off the road and let him pass you?”

  Grace scanned the roadside in front of her. She wished the lighting was better on this road. Another glance in the mirror told her even if she found a place, the vehicle was too close. “I can’t, Rio. If I slow down, he’ll hit me.”

  Through the phone’s speaker, Grace heard the sound of doors slamming and an engine starting. “Grace, it’s Quinn. Rio has you on speaker. I just called the police. They have an officer not too far from your location. He’s already en route, sugar. So are we. We’re at PSI, so we’re close to the highway.”

  “I may be overreacting. If so, I’ll apologize now for wasting your time.”

  “Never apologize for being cautious,” Rio said. “Always trust your instincts, Grace. If Trent was here, he’d say the same.”

  “I feel better just talking to you guys.”

  “Keep both hands on the wheel, sugar.”

 
Like she would do otherwise. Grace had seen the results of automobile accidents in Memorial Hospital’s emergency room. She didn’t want to be a patient in her own hospital.

  The screaming of an engine yanked her gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The trailing vehicle raced toward her. No hint of swerving around her slower-moving vehicle. “Rio!” Her friend’s name was the only word she got out before the vehicle slammed into her car.

  Grace screamed as she fought to keep her car on the road. Why was he doing this? Why did he just go around her?

  “Grace!”

  “He hit me.”

  “What’s he doing, sugar?”

  She couldn’t breathe much less talk.

  “Grace,” Rio snapped. “Breathe. Talk to me. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

  That command broke through the tidal wave of fear. She dragged in air. “He hit my car and dropped back.”

  “Is he still there?” Quinn asked.

  Another quick check. “Yes.” She moaned. “He’s speeding up again, aiming right for me.”

  “Get over to the right as far as you can, sweetheart.”

  “He won’t pass me.”

  “Just do what I told you.”

  Grace eased her sedan further to the right. “I’m mostly in the emergency lane.”

  “Good girl. If he hits the left rear panel of your car, the momentum will turn you around the other way. Use your snow driving techniques and don’t over correct. More than anything, do not panic.”

  Easy for him to say. “I’ll try.” Another glance behind her. “Here he comes.”

  “We’re not far, sugar,” Rio said. “Just hold on.”

  The vehicle slammed into her bumper again, backed off and charged forward, this time aiming at her driver’s side. Was this creep going to force her off the road or spin her around like Quinn suggested? “He hit my bumper again and is aiming toward the driver’s side.”

  “Remember the instructions I gave you,” Quinn said. “We’re five minutes out, Grace.”

  Five minutes. She could handle five minutes. Couldn’t she? No choice. She wanted to see Trent again, feel his arms around her, share another kiss. She had to survive to win that reward.

  The dark-colored pickup truck pursuing her swung wide, then veered toward the back panel of her car. Just as Quinn had warned, her car spun around. The wheels caught gravel, lost traction, and continued spinning toward the ditch between her side of the highway and the oncoming traffic.

  Her car slid over the edge of the ditch. Grace cried out as the car tumbled down the incline. Airbags exploded and fine dust filled the cabin, blocking her vision. Her head slammed against the door as the car came to a jarring stop.

  Grace was vaguely aware of Rio calling her name as she slumped to the side and into darkness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Trent St. Claire dropped into a seat in front of his boss’s desk. What was taking Maddox so long? Normally, Trent would already be out of here after the debriefing from his unit’s latest mission, a successful snatch-and-run of a thirteen-year-old boy held hostage in Venezuela. The boy’s father, a wealthy CEO of an American clothing manufacturer, made the mistake of taking his son on a business trip to an area known for ruthless men intent on making a quick buck at the expense of foreigners unwise enough to venture into their territory.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, anxious to leave Nashville. He missed Grace something fierce. He’d had a tough time keeping his mind on the job, unusual for him. Thoughts of the beautiful woman who populated his dreams had filled his mind in idle moments and threatened to distract him during the op. Only discipline from his SEAL training enabled him to maintain his focus during the critical phases of the mission.

  Trent needed to do something about the incredible Grace Rutledge. If he didn’t want to lose her, he’d have to man up and tell her how he felt. So why did the prospect of baring his soul make him break out in a cold sweat?

  He blew out a breath. Some Special Forces soldier he was. Afraid to tell a sweet nurse that she was indispensable to him.

  The door to the office flew open and his boss strode in. At the sight of Maddox’s expression, Trent stood, expecting the worst. Had the boss brought him into the privacy of his office to ream him out for a misstep on the mission? If so, he didn’t want to take the dressing down sitting in a chair. Whatever caused the scowl on Brent Maddox’s face wasn’t good.

  His boss circled to the other side of his desk and waved Trent to the seat he’d abandoned. “Sit, St. Claire. This won’t take long.”

  Oh, man. His gut tightened. “I’d prefer to stand, sir.”

  Maddox’s eyebrows rose. “You in a hurry or something?”

  Or something. “Yes, sir.”

  “Sit down, Trent.” Irritation filled the CEO’s voice. “Tell me about the Hendrix boy’s father.”

  He blinked at the unexpected demand as he returned to his seat. “Damon Hendrix is a class A jerk. He treats A.J. like the boy’s a great disappointment. He’s also verbally abusive.”

  “Physical abuse?”

  “No evidence that I saw.”

  Maddox grunted. “Verbal abuse can be just as destructive.”

  Trent cocked his head. “Why are you asking about Hendrix?”

  “He’s complaining about the way the retrieval was handled. Says your team was too slow and were rude to him.”

  Outraged, Trent clenched his fists. “Too slow? We moved on the thugs’ hideout as soon as we received the right intel. The longest part of the operation was getting out of Venezuela. As I explained, we ran into a few problems.” Gun-toting terrorists bent on killing all of them.

  Maddox waved aside Trent’s explanation. “You did exactly as you were trained to do, Trent. You and your unit did a fantastic job considering the faulty information Hendrix gave you.”

  “So this is about the confrontation with Hendrix when we returned the boy?”

  “The guy’s an idiot. I’m surprised you didn’t deck him.”

  In truth, Trent had almost laid the father out for verbally lashing his traumatized son. At no time had he ever seen a victim blamed for his own kidnapping, but that’s exactly what Damon Hendrix had done to A.J. “I wanted to,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to cause trouble for you.”

  A snort. “I appreciate that.” Maddox’s mouth curved into a shark-like smile. “Now I can double our normal fee.”

  Trent whistled. Fortress Security wasn’t cheap. In fact, his company’s fees were already steep. “Hoping to never do business with Hendrix again?”

  “If A.J. needs us, we’ll be there. The father, however, will pay through the nose for our services.”

  Some of the tension in his muscles eased. “Then why the private meeting?”

  “Your team has been deployed multiple times in the past six months. How much time have you had off?”

  “Enough.” Not as much as he wanted to spend with Grace, but he wasn’t suffering from burnout. He refused to acknowledge the fatigue that dogged his every waking hour.

  His boss narrowed his eyes.

  Before Maddox could respond, Trent’s cell phone signaled an incoming text. He glanced at the other man, eyebrow raised.

  “Go ahead.”

  He checked the screen, an invisible band squeezing his chest at the message from his brother-in-law. Call me immediately. Trent put through the call. “Is Darcy okay?” he asked as soon as Rio Kincaid answered.

  “She’s fine. It’s Grace.”

  His breath stalled in his lungs. No. He couldn’t lose her. “Is she all right?”

  “She was forced off the road and crashed in the ditch on Highway 18, about 8 miles from town.”

  “Rio, please.” His voice broke. Losing Grace would kill him. Though he hadn’t found the courage yet to tell her, Grace Rutledge was it for him. If he couldn’t have her, he would be spending the rest of his life alone. There was no other woman for him but Grace.

  “She’s banged
up, but alive. I don’t know anything else since I’m not family. The medical staff won’t give me more information without her permission and she can’t give it right now.”

  His blood ran cold through his veins. The hospital staff wouldn’t keep Trent from her side. He’d call in every favor he had to clear the way. No one was keeping him from her. “I’m leaving Nashville now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket. “I have to go. Grace was in an accident.”

  “She okay?”

  “Hurt. Rio doesn’t know how bad.” He glowered. “The medical staff is stonewalling him.”

  “Go to the airport. One of the pilots will fly you to Knoxville. Have one of Rio’s teammates meet you at the airfield.”

  Relief flooded Trent. “Thanks, boss.” The sooner he was at Grace’s side, the better. He paused. “I’m off duty, sir.” Unspoken was his plan to stay off duty until Grace was well, however long that took. Fortress owed him several days of vacation.

  “Understood. Go. I’ll clear the way for you at the hospital.”

  Trent pushed the speed limit all the way back across town to John C. Tune airport. As soon as he was buckled in, the pilot powered up and taxied down the runway.

  Throughout the flight home, he went through different scenarios and made various plans to deal with each possibility, depending on the severity of Grace’s injuries. That Rio hadn’t been able to find out any information worried Trent. The medic was well known and well liked in the medical community in Otter Creek.

  No matter. He’d find out what he needed to know and help Grace as she recovered, however long that took.

  Just when he thought he’d have to get up and pace off the tension, the pilot announced the plane was approaching the airport. Thank goodness. As soon as the stairs lowered to the tarmac, Trent grabbed his Go bag and hurried from the cabin. Cool air slapped him in the face as he jogged toward the black SUV idling nearby.

  He stowed his gear in the storage area, jogged around to the shotgun seat and climbed in. “Go,” he ordered Quinn Gallagher, Rio’s Durango unit teammate. “Any updates?”

  “Sorry, man. All we’re getting is they’re still evaluating her.”