Edge watched the big diesel roll across the asphalt lot. Where the hell was the DEA? An instant later, the driver hit the brakes, and the taillights went on. The quiet erupted into the sound of sirens crackling through the air, and a tsunami of red-and-blue flashing lights descended on the eighteen-wheeler.
Cop cars were everywhere, at least half a dozen bearing down on him and Dutch. Dutch pulled his big semiauto and whirled toward him, pointed the gun barrel at his heart. “You bastard!”
Adrenalin and his training both hit him. Edge knocked the barrel of the gun away with his forearm, spun and kicked, sent Dutch’s pistol flying, delivered a chop to the side of his neck, followed by an uppercut that launched him backward, into the side of the white panel van.
Dutch bounced off the side and charged forward. Edge’s fist slammed into his stomach, doubling him over. Then a right to the jaw took him out. By the time Agent Cross arrived, it was over.
“Nice work,” Cross said as two of his agents ran up, slapped handcuffs on Dutch’s thick wrists, and placed him under arrest.
All Edge could think of was the woman he’d left in Las Vegas. “What about Skye? Is she all right? Did they get her out okay?”
“I assume she’s all right. She wasn’t on the premises when we arrived.”
Which was DEA speak forWhatever happened, we weren’t involved. Nothing to see here.
“During the raid, Ivan Petrov got into a firefight with a couple of our agents,” Cross said. “Last I heard, it didn’t look like he was going to make it.”
“Now that’s a real pity.”
“Some of my men spotted a chopper in the area. Probably just a coincidence.”
Relief filtered through him. Morgan Burke had surprised him by volunteering to help, and it appeared he had done the job.
“Yeah, probably.”
Still, he couldn’t be sure Skye was okay until he talked to her.
As DEA agents took Riggins and Ketch into custody and began going through the cargo in the back, Edge phoned Skye. When she didn’t answer, his nerves ticked up. Edge phoned Conn.
“Did you get Skye out okay? Did everything go all right?”
“She’s okay. Bullet creased her arm. We’re heading to the emergency room.”
His stomach burned. “How bad is it?”
“Hurts like hell, but she’ll be fine. It shouldn’t take too long. We’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
He’d rather go straight to the hospital, but it wasn’t going to happen. The DEA would want to debrief him. He was still wearing the wireless recorder, and hell, he didn’t even have a ride.
“All right, I’ll see you there,” he said. “Take care of her, Conn.”
“Will do.” The line went dead.
It was after three a.m. when one of Cross’s men dropped Edge off at the Bellagio. He had talked to Trace, knew Skye had been released and that they were all back in the suite. But after the painkillers the doctors had given her, Conn had told him, Skye was already asleep.
Conn was sleeping on the sofa in the living room when Edge walked in. “Take it easy,” Edge said when Conn raised his head, alert in case of trouble. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
From his pallet on the floor, Trace mumbled something as Edge walked past. Sleeping in a chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, Morgan Burke lifted the camo fatigue hat over his face to confirm who it was, then resettled the hat and returned to sleep.
Edge walked past them into the bedroom and closed the door. Stripping off his jacket, he set his shoulder holster and Beretta on the dresser. His gaze went to the bed, and he realized Skye was awake and watching him.
The curtains were open, neon light from the casinos brightening the room through the windows. Long dark hair curled softly over Skye’s pillow. The rounded tops of her breasts rose smooth and pale above the sheet, and emotion hit him like a fist. He’d been so worried. He had refused to recognize the fear he’d kept tamped down until now.
He moved to the side of the bed and crouched down beside her. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I was awake. I’m glad you’re here. Conn said you were okay, but I couldn’t stop worrying about you.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve been worried about you since the night you left the Four Winds with Petrov.” He reached for her hand, which felt warm and strong as it wrapped around his. “How are you feeling?”
