Page 15 of Blade’s Edge (L.A.S.T. Defense #1)

Emi

I hold it together until we’re back in Jasper’s truck. But once he starts the engine, I stare out the window while Detective Mitchell’s words play on a loop in my head.

“Emi? Talk to me.” At a stop sign, Jasper reaches over to rest his hand on mine. The warmth of his touch grounds me, though it doesn’t make it any easier to find my voice.

“I thought for sure it was an accident,” I say softly. “But someone really did try to kill me.”

Jasper squeezes my fingers once, then returns his hand to the wheel. “Fowler won’t get away with this, sweetheart. Mitchell might not have much to go on, and he’s a colossal ass, but he has a respectable close rate.”

“We don’t even know that it is Fowler.” I stifle a snort. “Ignore me. Of course it’s Fowler. Or someone he’s connected to.”

“Do you always go to the grocery store on Thursday nights?” Jasper asks. “Or right from the station?”

“How did you know I’d come from work?”

He chuckles. “You were dressed to the nines, perfect makeup, heels…”

Oh. Right.

My cheeks heat, and I fiddle with the hem of my sweater to give myself something to focus on. “Saturdays. I normally shop on Saturdays.”

The trees pass by in a blur of green and brown.

Why do I suddenly feel like my whole life is nothing but a blur?

I work all the time. Mama died when I was twenty-three.

Every year, my sister asks me to visit her in London for her birthday, but there’s always been a story.

Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself.

What if I never get the chance to see her again? I don’t remember my life flashing before my eyes last night, but if it had, would I have seen anything but work?

“Emi?” Jasper brushes his hand along my arm. “We’re here.”

I jerk away from him, but the seatbelt traps me with nowhere to go. “What happens now?”

“I’m gonna walk you inside and make sure you’re safe. Your boss hired bodyguards, right?” he asks.

“Y-yes. The building is secure, but he stationed two rent-a-cops in the lobby. My cameraman, Kyle, has a family. He was okay with a bodyguard following him home at night. I wasn’t.”

“Dammit, Emi. These guys aren’t playing around. If you had been two steps closer to that car?—”

“I know!” Tears well in my eyes. “I’ve worked in network news for almost twenty years. Death threats have always been part of the job. They never bothered me before. But they were never so real before either.”

“They’re real now, sweetheart.” Jasper cups my cheek and skates his thumb gently below the bruising. “Once you’re inside, I gotta go see my brother and slap some sense into him. But I’m only leavin’ if you promise me you won’t go anywhere alone.”

“I’m not taking one of Nelson’s bodyguards to the bathroom with me,” I say with a gentle shake of my head. “I draw the line there.”

Jasper laughs, the sound so rich and almost happy. “Good. But, I’m serious, Emi. You don’t leave the station. Not for lunch, drinks, a walk…nothin’. I’ll be back at seven.”

“You don’t need to babysit me,” I bristle.

“Yes, ma’am. I do. Hell, I’d stay with you all day if you’d let me. But I reckon you’ve had about enough of my overprotective ass for a few hours. So you stay inside while I do what I’ve gotta to, and when I come back at seven, I’d like to take you to dinner. If that’s okay with you.”

I pull my hands away. “Jasper Blade, are you flirting with me?”

“No ma’am. I’m tryin’ to ask you out on a proper date. Somewhere quiet, easily secured. Maybe even a little romantic. After that, we’ll see what comes next.”

Jasper scoots closer so only the center console separates us, slides his hand into my hair, and cups the back of my head. His kiss sends goosebumps racing along my arms, down my back, and all the way to my toes. Strong fingers gently caress the column of my throat. I moan into the touch.

His lips follow the curve of my jaw until he finds the shell of my ear. “I want you, Emmylou Marsh. Sleeping next to you last night—who am I kiddin’, I was countin’ stars the whole time.”

I shudder. Jasper toys with the top button on my blouse. Shit. Anyone could walk by and see us… “Stop,” I whisper. “Not…here.”

He pulls back by inches. First his lips. Then his hands. Then his bulk and heat.

My breath stutters in my chest. I’m so damn needy, I’m tempted to suggest we find a hotel. Or go back to my place. But then I remember the photos of my mangled car. Of the remains of the cell phone that set off the bomb. I have work to do.

“Tonight. Okay. A…date,” I manage. “At seven.”

Jasper reaches over and cups my cheek. “I need to hear you say it, Emi. You won’t go anywhere alone.”

I want to rail against his demand. To tell him I’m not a child and I can protect myself. But I don’t. Because he’s right. I’m in trouble, and I need to be careful.

“I’ll stay inside.” I cover his hand with mine. “I promise.”

Jasper

This day has been goin’ downhill ever since I got out of Emi’s bed this morning. I shoulda’ stayed there. Made her stay with me. Then we might be able to pretend everything’s normal. That no one’s out to kill her.

Instead, I’m checking every corner of the Channel 5 lobby. Their security ain’t half bad. No one gets past the front doors without badging in. A uniformed attendant monitors the reception desk, and from the way he carries himself, he’s former military.

“You’ve walked me right to the door,” Emi says, a little of the sass back in her tone. “No one would be stupid enough to come after me here. There’s always a camera on somewhere in this building.”

I don’t like leaving her. But we aren’t a couple. And she’s right. If the cartel is involved, there’s no fucking way they’d attack the station. No. They’d go after her and her alone. Make it look like an accident. Because that’s plausible deniability.

“I’ll be right back here at 7:00 p.m. When you hear from the FBI, you give me a call.” Leaning in, I brush my lips to her forehead. “You might be the most interesting woman I’ve ever met, Ms. Marsh. Stay safe today. I want to see what this is between us.”

With a smile, she walks backward all the way to the security doors. “So do I.”

“He’s not here, Jasper.” Sergeant Parker Elmore rounds her desk, her blond hair swinging in a high pony tail.

“Then where is he? The sombitch was supposed to call me back two hours ago.” The bullpen is mostly quiet this time of the afternoon on a Friday. Billings and McGrath are already gone. Parker’s surrounded by paperwork, which means my brother dumped it all on her before he took off.

Her blue and gold eyes darken. “The same place he is every Friday.”

Fucking hell. “I thought he’d rented that apartment to live in. Not as his weeknight crash pad.”

Parker rests her hip on the edge of AJ’s desk and rubs the back of her neck. “He’ll never give up the house, Jas. You know that. It’s his last connection to Grace.”

She’s right. The place on Lady Bird Lake was their dream home. Floor to ceiling windows, a fully outfitted custom outdoor kitchen, fire pit, an insulated man cave for AJ, and an art studio for Grace with a water view.

He stayed there for a year after she went missing in case she found her way home, but Billings and McGrath—two of his lieutenants—finally convinced him that living in that big house all alone wasn’t good for him.

“I’ll head out there next. But…I don’t suppose you know anything about Detective Nolan Mitchell over at Austin PD, do you?”

“Nope,” she says. “But I’ll put some feelers out— if you do something for me.”

“What?”

Parker’s no fool. She’s only been on the job for two years, but she’s got the best instincts of anyone I know besides my brother—and maybe me.

“Go see him. He won’t admit it, but he’s really struggling, Jasper. Every Saturday he goes out on the same trail Grace used the day she disappeared. I know you can’t run anymore, but maybe one day…you could go with him.”

Fuck. I didn’t know it was that bad. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t expect much. Big brother doesn’t give two shits about what I have to say. But…I’ll try.”

Dark clouds gather on the horizon as I park my truck next to AJ’s black SUV. His lake-front property has seen better days. Brown patches of dead grass dot the front lawn, the bushes are so overgrown, they’ve started to block the windows, and his gutters are chock full of weeds.

The doorbell echoes through the house, but he doesn’t answer. I give it one more try—and a good two minutes—before I head for the side gate. He used to keep a spare key under one of the planters by the back door.

Behind the house, the late afternoon sun hits the water. A stiff breeze turns the lake into a sea of glittering diamonds. I always loved this view. Hell, we’d sit out here for hours on a Saturday night with the fire pit going—back when AJ and Grace used to invite me over on the regular.

Belle, an Australian Shepherd/Bernese Mountain Dog mix, trots over to me and nudges my hand with her nose. The pup was so bonded to Grace that AJ had to give her anxiety meds for months. Belle didn’t want to be anywhere but at the front door waiting for her person to come home.

“Wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” I say as I scratch Belle behind her ears.

“But you’re a smart girl.” I squint up at the house, and though the sun against the tall windows threatens to blind me, I can make out AJ sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck.

“Come on. Maybe he’s got a tennis ball up there. ”

The dog sticks close to my side until I find an old, faded ball next to the steps. Then she starts dancing around me until I throw the mangled thing halfway to the lake.

“What are you doing here?” AJ asks, his gaze pinned to the water. A bottle of Shiner sits at his elbow.

“Thought I’d drop off a dictionary to remind you what the words, ‘Give me two hours,’ mean. You were supposed to call me back, asshole.” I lower myself down into the chair next to him with a quiet grunt.

“Leg?” AJ sits up a little straighter, but he still doesn’t look at me.

“And hip. The explosion knocked me on my ass last night.” I dig my knuckles into my thigh, but the pressure doesn’t bring much relief. Only an ice pack and a couple bottles of beer can take the edge off.

Belle drops the tennis ball at my feet, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her butt wiggling so fast it’s practically a blur. AJ swipes it up before I can move. “No offense, Jas, but your pitching arm ain’t worth shit anymore.”

He’s not wrong. The ball travels almost twice as far this time.

Belle takes off like a shot. That dog can go for miles without getting the least bit worn out.

Grace used to take her on long runs every weekend.

If Belle had been with Grace that day…maybe she’d still be here.

But she’d stepped on a wasp the day before, so Grace left her at home.

“Are you investigating Eugene Fowler?” I’m done mincing words with my brother. He’s gonna give me a straight answer or I’m gonna kick his ass.

“Of course not!” He turns his head to meet my gaze. “For fuck’s sake. I would have told you.”

“I asked Parker about the Cordova Cartel. She clammed up on me. So don’t give me that attitude. I know you’re hidin’ something.”

Belle drops the ball between us, then stares from me to AJ and back again before she tries to climb into AJ’s lap. He wraps his arms around her, a small smile curving his lips despite having an eighty-pound dog crushing his nuts.

“When have we not had an active case against the cartel?” he asks. “Far as I know, there are at least three separate investigations goin’ on right now. But I ain’t involved in any of them. Neither is Parker.”

Well, fuck.

AJ takes a swig from his beer. “You want one?”

“No.” That’s a bald-faced lie, but I can’t shoot the shit with him for the rest of the afternoon—as much as I’d like to.

We’ve talked more this week than in the past eight months combined.

“I have to pick Emi up at seven. If she’ll let me, I’ll bring her out to Grandpappy Blade’s cabin. Otherwise, we’ll be at her place.”

“We?” AJ gives me the side eye. “What the fuck are you doing, Jas? Knockin’ boots with the woman who almost blew up the case against the Marquez drug ring? You barely know her!”

I push to my feet. Belle whines, and I reach over and give her sleek head one last stroke. “Since you barely know me anymore, what I do or don’t do with Emi is none of your damn business.”

Without waiting for him to say another word, I head for my car. I should have enough time to stop at home, take a shower, and pack a bag for the weekend. If I’m lucky, Emi and I will be knockin’ boots by the end of the night. But AJ doesn’t need to know that.

I’m fresh out of the shower when the six o’clock news comes on. After the initial headlines, the anchor—some guy named Jim Flanagan—stares straight into the camera. “And now, Emmylou Marsh is here with an update on the Empress Hotel and Eugene Fowler controversy. Emmylou?”

The camera pans to Emi sitting next to him.

Her bruises are still visible, and she looks exhausted.

“Thank you, Jim. Over the past week, we’ve brought you a story of bribery, corruption, and possible cartel ties with Consolidated Investment Group.

Last night, while I was doing my weekly grocery shopping, someone wired a bomb to my car.

It went off when I was only steps away.”

She stares into the camera, brushing a lock of hair away from her face to reveal the dark purple bruise swelling at her temple. “While I haven’t uncovered any other proof linking the cartel to Consolidated Investment Group, the attack on me has their fingerprints all over it.”

Goddamnit. She’s painting an even bigger target on her back. It only takes me five minutes to get dressed and shove a couple changes of clothes into a duffel bag. I need to get back to Channel 5. Right fucking now.