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Jagged Edge (The Arsenal Book 1) by Cara Carnes (18)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“This is so embarrassing, Mrs. Mason. I promise I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to sit here with me. As soon as Logan steps in this door, I’m going to be out of here.”

Mary hoped. She’d woken a few moments ago and found Dylan’s mom sitting in the chair near her. Knitting.

The sheet was tucked around her tight. She tugged, then froze when she realized she might hurt the woman’s feeling if she’d rolled her like a burrito.

“You have a beautifully expressive face, my dear.” She grinned. “Dylan used to tuck Riley in like that, said it kept her safe from the monsters.”

Warmth flooded her belly. Dylan was here?

“He’s been here the whole time. I’m going to catch hell because I made him leave and shower. Told him he didn’t want to look like a filthy mongrel when you woke.”

Mary laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much. Why am I here?”

A softness settled across her face. “I’m thinking you don’t need to worry about that. Dylan and that nice doctor will be in soon. You sit back and rest. Are you hungry? Oh, I know.”

She rose and wheeled a tray over to the bedside. She clucked her tongue and picked up the massive handgun, doing the whole checking to make sure it was loaded thing, and set it on the bedside table.

“He insisted we keep that handy,” she commented as she poured icy water from a pitcher. “Here, sip slowly, dear. We wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

She sipped from the straw until the entire small glass was gone. Smiling her gratitude, she looked around the room and wondered how long she’d been there. She wiggled her toes, slowly working her way physically up her body.

“Well, look who decided to join the land of the awake again.” Logan strolled in, Dylan hot on his heels.

Her pulse quickened. Machines beeped. Heat crept up her cheeks as Mrs. Mason chuckled at her side. She reached over and patted Mary on the shoulder, then winked.

That did not just happen.

Dylan Mason was too handsome for his own good. A dark green shirt hugged his muscular frame. Tucked into jeans he filled out like a second skin. Droplets hung from the tips of his slightly longer than typical hair.

“You couldn’t even run a towel over your head? You’re going to catch a cold,” his mom commented.

Dylan ignored the woman and sat on the bed beside Mary. He leaned down and feathered a kiss across her mouth, so soft and delicious she curled her toes and sighed into the contact.

Logan cleared his throat. “I see you’re feeling okay.”

“Sorry, Doc,” she whispered as she uncovered her good hand and took Dylan’s. “Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember anything from last night? When Dylan came back from San Antonio?”

“I remember the mission, the fact he was coming back. But he was late. Vi wouldn’t let me call him again, said I was starting to look like a stalker.” Mary forced a smile, but her heart thudded.

“What else do you remember?” he asked gently.

She flashed a fearful look at Dylan. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. “I—I think he came back. And I was so worried and...”

She’d jumped him.

“I was a bit overexcited,” she admitted.

“I’ll just step out, dear,” Mrs. Mason said.

“No, stay. I—I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sure you know more than I do. It’s okay.”

“Doctor Parsons would probably handle the explanation better,” Logan said.

“I don’t know her. Please, just tell me.”

“The mission caused enough emotional distress that you went into a flashback, one where you thought the events were recurring, but with Dylan instead of you.” Logan leaned forward and set his clipboard on the edge of the bed.

“I was worried Driggs would get him, like he did me.” She stared at Dylan in shock. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about, but you worried a lot of people. Doctor Parsons thinks you need to take a few weeks away from operations, just until you’ve gotten further into your treatment.”

“No.” Mary shook her head. “I won’t quit.”

“You aren’t quitting, just taking a break. Everyone needs a vacation every now and then. When was the last time you took a day off from being The Edge? The voice on the com who solves any problem, no matter how tough?” Logan asked.

“That’s what I do. I work. Without work, I’m not anything.”

“I’m taking some time away, too. We’ll check out the ranch, Resino. I’m sure Mom has a mile-long list of things she wants done at the house.” Dylan smiled, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes.

“He doesn’t get to take that away from me,” she gritted out, angered by the decision they’d made without her. “Martin Driggs took the only good man who cared about me from my life. He murdered Peter. He was like a brother. Family. He pulled me out of hell, gave me a purpose for breathing. He needed me. And he died. Because I nosed around. Saw too much.”

“Driggs was dirty, neck-deep in whatever bullshit he started. Peter’s death isn’t on you,” Dylan said. “Neither is any of the rest of it.”

“He thought I’d break, give him anything he wanted.” Mary squeezed Dylan’s hand. “I didn’t. I didn’t even consider it. I knew what he’d do with the technology, the stuff I’d gathered about him.”

“You did the right thing, you fought and won. We have Driggs in custody. We’ll find out who his boss is and end this, avenge Peter’s death.” Dylan took her by the neck and leaned in, almost close enough to kiss, but not quite. “Let someone else carry it the rest of the way, Mary. You’ve done the heavy lifting long enough. Let us help.”

“I’m not asking to carry the ball anymore, Dylan, but I need to be involved. I need the closure. He can’t take my work away, what I can do.”

He looked over at Logan.

“One week, then we’ll revisit. But you need to give therapy a try, Mary. A real, honest try. I know you don’t trust her, and I understand and respect that. But she can help you. I wouldn’t ever recommend her if I didn’t think she could.” Logan leaned over and touched her leg. “A lot of soldiers here need her help, Mary. It’s a shit thing for me to pile onto your shoulders, but if you let her help, then they’ll follow your lead.”

“They don’t know me. That’s not true.”

“Bullshit. Everyone in the ops world knows the Quillery Edge. Wherever you and Vi go, they’ll follow. She stepped into the next phase yesterday, while you were running the mission. Marshall and Nolan have fielded thirty calls this morning alone. All top-grade operatives you wanted.”

“He’s not going to win, Mary. You’ve already won by being you. Trust me and the others to finish this.”

“I’ve never not done anything. I’d be lost,” she whispered.

“No, you won’t,” Dylan promised. “You’ll be with me. Besides, I have some investigative work I could use your help on. Remember Riley mentioning her friend?”

“Yeah,” Mary said. “The one ghosting through life?”

“Things are getting worse. Riles is worried, and I’m not happy about that. The doctors here may not agree, but I think this is work you can handle easily. We’ll monitor you, make sure it’s not too strenuous or anything. Marshall and I spoke with Rhea and Bree earlier. They assured me there are enough cameras available for us to handle the first round of our plan.”

“Which is?”

“Wire Resino. Marshall spoke with some folks in town. Something bad is happening, right here in our backyard. We’re going to dig in and handle it.”

“I’m in,” she said before he changed his mind. “Whatever it is, I’m in. Vi can handle operations. If something goes critical and I’m needed, I can help. You give me Riley’s problem, I’ll stay away without argument for the week.”

“Let’s knock some heads then, sweetheart.” Dylan grinned, one that hit his eyes. “After therapy.”

“I really, really don’t want to do this. Not today.”

“I came up with an alternative, one I think will be more your style.” Logan rose. “Parsons is doing a group therapy session, or trying to anyway. The first one was yesterday, and no one showed up.”

“What’s the therapy for?”

“PTSD. We’ve got a lot of soldiers here desperate for help, wanting a reboot on life. They’re here through Warrior’s Path. Doctor Parsons is going to oversee the therapy for the program. And Riley’s friend, Rachelle.” Dylan squeezed her hand. “She’s a good woman. I sat down and spoke with her for a couple hours.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” She looked at Logan. “The group one, though. I’m not going to cower and let what happened to me ruin what I can do, what we can all do. Spread the word. If you think having the Edge come to group therapy will help others do the same, I’m on board.”

“I didn’t mention this so you’d saddle up and do a dog and pony show like Driggs used to make you and Vi do.” Logan shook his head in disgust.

“I know, but this is me. I admit I have problems I need help with. I’m screwed up. That’s no surprise. Yeah, I was taken, I was tortured. Beaten. Raped. I apparently lost it when Dylan got back from San Antonio. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again, but I can’t lie here and wait for the next shoe to drop. I don’t have that in me. I’m a fighter. The best way I can fight Driggs right now is with my voice, the one everyone knows.”

“Son of a bitch, you think the mole will come to therapy if he knows you’re there. You think you can ferret him out,” Dylan said.

“Don’t you?” Mary smirked. “You’ve gotta admit it makes sense.”

“Jesus, I’m the one who needs my head examined for thinking this is a good idea.”

“Dylan Mason, you did not just say that,” his mom said.

“Forget everything you just heard, Mom. I forgot you were back there,” he ordered. “We’ll talk about it all later, okay?”

“You keep your young woman safe. She’s a keeper, Dylan.” Mrs. Mason rose. “Now, I’m going to make a few phone calls, sort some business out in town. I’ll swing by with homemade brownies later. That’s the best medicine going.”

Logan escorted Dylan’s mom out of the room.

Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do I think we don’t want to know what her phone calls are about?”

“I’m sure you’ll be topic number one in the gossip mill tomorrow.”

Mary tensed. Being bait for the mole bastard in The Arsenal was one thing, but fodder for the gossip mill was another. “She won’t mention what happened, will she?”

“Oh no, nothing that easy to manage.” Dylan chuckled. “She’s been trying to marry us off for years now. You’re the first real hope she has.”

Warmth settled in her belly. Her pulse quickened. Dylan smirked and disconnected the machine from her. “I like how excited you get around me, sweetheart. I get the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He spread out on the bed and curled her against him. “I’m proud of you, Mary. You’ve been through hell. I know going to the therapy will be tough, but she’s got ways of helping we don’t. I’ll be there, at the group therapy. If you want. I don’t want to pressure or push you.”

“I want you there.” She licked her lips. “I was going to ask.”

“Then I’ll be there, right beside you.”

“When can I leave?”

“Just as soon as you’re ready. Logan wants you to stay with me a while. Are you okay with that?”

“Are you?” she asked. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden, Mary. I was the one who suggested it. I don’t want you alone, in case you have another episode. He mentioned it could happen.”

Mary didn’t want another one. One was quite enough. “Tell me what’s happening with Driggs.”

“He’s in our holding facility. He won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“You can do that? Detain someone indefinitely?”

“We have clearance to do just about anything we want, but we have no qualms about operating in the gray areas when necessary. Driggs is a dark gray area as far as we’re concerned. He hurt one of ours, tried to take Riles. He’s been tight-lipped so far, but we haven’t started in on him. We figured you might want to have the chance to watch, listen. Logan and Parsons don’t think it’s a good idea, but enough of us have been there. We understand closure.”

“Can I think on it?”

“Of course. Just let me know. Marshall’s okay with him simmering in a cell for a while. It’ll soften him up. He’s not a soldier. He’ll break quick.”

“The list we had, the possible moles. Whoever shows up at therapy, maybe give them a go? See what happens.” Mary shrugged. “You show enough trust, he might show his hand.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Marshall.” Dylan rose. “I’ll be right back. I need to go grab some clothes for you.”

Mary let the silence tick by a few beats before expending a weary breath and closing her eyes. The events she’d blocked out from yesterday struck her brain, a battering ram she couldn’t ignore any longer. While she wanted to believe she was okay, a part of her clearly wasn’t. Taking a step back made sense, as much as it pained her to admit.

Martin Driggs and whoever he worked for weren’t going to beat her. They might have won the first skirmish, but she’d win the war. With Dylan’s help.

“KEEP A CLOSE EYE ON her. She’ll likely put on a facade, come across how she thinks we’ll expect her to be. Strong and functional. I think she’s both, but she’s got a long road ahead of her,” Logan commented. “I’ll let Doctor Parsons know she’s awake. Feel free to take her back to the barracks as soon as you want.”

“Dylan Mason, I know you aren’t taking that precious girl and sticking her in that cesspit of a room. We have perfectly good bedrooms at the main house.”

“They aren’t secure, Mom.”

“Then maybe you boys need to get busy and get some decent secured housing around here. If you’re going to have more employees and they want to live onsite, they’ll likely want more than a bed and a dresser.”

Dylan doubted it, but it merited a discussion with the others. Cooking a few of his own meals and having a place to veg on a sofa without a score of others around would be nice, he admitted. Right now, all he cared about was Mary.

“She seemed okay, like she was before. Do you think there’ll be another episode?”

“It’s hard to say. Involving her in routine Arsenal matters is a good idea. Let her organize your back-office stuff and get everything the way she and Vi would prefer. Busy work to keep her checked in but away from any triggers. Based on the emphatic need for closure she’s demonstrating, observation of Driggs’s questioning might be okay, but I’d like to consult Parsons first,” Logan said.

“Let me know. Marshall wants him questioned in the morning.”

Dylan watched the doctor walk down the hall and took a bracing breath for the whirlwind of a mother waiting patiently for his attention. She wasn’t going away. She’d had six sons and a hellion daughter. She knew all about waiting thunderstorms out.

“Thanks for sitting with her,” he muttered.

“She’s strong, she’ll be okay.” She stroked his face as he looked down into her gentle gaze. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

“Don’t go and book the chapel yet. We need time. I don’t know what we want long-term, but she’s important. I don’t want her scared off by wedding gown talk.”

His mom smiled. “You’re more and more like your father every day. You all are. He’d be so proud of what you’re doing here.”

“We’ve ignored what mattered most though. Riley concerns me, Mom. Have you spoken with her?”

His mom’s lips thinned. Moisture pooled in her gaze. “You get my baby smiling again, son. She’s carrying a town of trouble on her shoulders. It’s more than that sweet Rachelle. I rarely go there, but all of Marville is just as skittish, terrified of their own shadows. They’d sooner cut off their own hand than shake yours. It’s not right, son.”

Marville was a cesspit of a town fifteen miles down the road. People in Resino tended to pretend it didn’t exist, and many Marville residents wished it didn’t. Sadly, it was in a different county, and the sheriff there didn’t take too kindly to anyone with the last name Mason.

“We’ll handle it, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You go and get some rest. I love you.”

Marshall and Nolan wandered up. Mom gave them both a squeeze and kiss, then headed out. Dylan expended a weary breath.

“With Driggs in custody, we have a chance to use him to our advantage. Mary suggested we bring Wells and the others we’ve identified in to help with him, see how they react.”

“It’s a good idea. I’ll get Dallas on Wells,” Marshall responded. “How’s our girl?”

“Okay. Strong. Fuck, man. She’s so strong. She doesn’t want to be sidelined, says she needs the closure. I’m going to have her help me with whatever’s bothering Riley, the Rachelle situation. Mom said it’s all of Marville.” He settled his hands on his hips and looked around.

“You need help, let us know. We’re going on, business as usual. Whoever’s pulling the strings needs to see we think we have our main man,” Nolan said.

“Rhea and Bree are secure? They aren’t leaving, are they?”

“No, not anytime soon. If I have my way, there’ll be a permanent place for them here. They’re in their heads too much to be unsecured and away from Vi and Mary. I’ve offered them both space in the bottom level for whatever labs or whatnot they use. They said we’d have to clear it with your girl. Apparently, she’s their managing agent and handles their grant monies.”

“Grants?” Dylan asked. “Interesting.”

He smirked at his brothers as they headed out. Mary got up from the bed and angled for the bag slung over his shoulder. He kissed her sexy mouth to get her attention.

“Marshall offered space to Rhea and Bree for labs, so they’d stay here at the compound on a more permanent basis. They both said they’d have to get it cleared with you. You’re their managing agent? Grant monies? Who’s funding them?”

“Oh, right.” Mary sucked her lower lip into her mouth and unzipped the bag he settled on the bed.

“Mary, who’s funding them? Now that I think about it, all this research and the tech and equipment. That’s a lot of money.”

She averted her gaze, then sighed and peered up at him. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but hear me out before you say anything. Promise?”

Dylan didn’t respond. He crossed his arms and waited.

“Vi and I started HERA a while back. The programming didn’t cost much more than our spare time. The tech components and monetary problems crept up when we brought Bree and Rhea into the fold. They had brilliant ideas, but unlike our stuff, theirs needed money.”

“Mary, where does the money come from?” Dylan asked patiently.

“We first used HERA to troll the Dark Web, track down the pervs and monsters luring victims in. This is more Vi’s realm than mine, but the gist of it is that we’ve found treasure chests, money in ghosted accounts belonging to arms and drug dealers and sex traffickers and...” She glanced at him. Fire danced in her eyes as her spine straightened and her voice firmed. “We take it, every cent we come across. We identify it as dirty by figuring out where it came from. If the source was legit and was scammed out of their lifesavings, the money miraculously gets returned. With interest.”

“But the bulk of it wasn’t a clean source,” he guessed.

“No, far from it. When Addy figured out what we were doing, she and Peter threw in. Hive ran across dirty monies all the time. Peter’s policy was to turn it over to the spook alphabet, but Driggs always wanted to keep it in rainy day accounts, funds he’d ‘manage’ for our benefit. Obviously, that’s where we should’ve seen what he was really up to.”

“Those are the funds you took after Peter died. Vi mentioned something about reallocating overhead accounts to where Driggs can’t get them.”

“We cut off his money supply. The idiot probably doesn’t even know. We left him a couple million in the stateside account he had siphoned Hive money into. One of the last things Vi and I did before I was taken was close down the other accounts he thought he’d hidden away. Drug money laundered through third world associates of Hive mostly.”

“And you’ll add that to the other kitty you’ve got for Bree and Rhea?”

“No. That’s not ours. That’s Addy’s. When the dust settles, she still owns half of Hive. I have no idea what she intends to do with what survives the cleansing Vi and I are doing. Honestly, she’ll probably have to scrap it all and restart. That money gives her the chance.”

“Marshall wants her here. So do I.”

Tension coiled in Mary. “Th-that’s good. She’s a great asset. I’m sure Bree and Rhea will appreciate safe labs and secured work conditions.”

“You know you’re all a packaged deal, right? You and Vi are already Arsenal as far as me and my brothers are concerned.”

“I thought that was just until this mess is gone.”

“No. We’re not about to let the Quillery Edge walk away. Think on it, sweetheart. Talk to Vi. You two will have full control of back office operations. Your circus, your monkeys.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

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