Rough Edge (The Edge #1)(28)

Ronin looked from me to Caden, then back to me, twisting his hands out to show us his palms. “You do what to get it under control?”

I couldn’t answer, and Caden wouldn’t. Instead he said, “I need this protocol. We do. We need it now.”

“What. Do. You. Do?” Ronin planted his flag in the ground.

Caden plucked it out by putting his elbows on the table and locking his gaze on our friend. “I fuck Greyson so hard I hurt her.”

“Jesus.” Ronin drained his whiskey.

“I gain control of her body and all of it goes away.”

“Is this a control thing or a sadism thing?”

Trust Ronin to get right to the point.

“I don’t know. But one day, I’m going to really injure her.”

“No, you’re not,” I insisted, but I was background noise. It was all Caden now.

“Whatever this is,” he continued, “it’s not telling me to kill the neighbor’s dog. It’s not a schizoid hallucination channeling my id. It’s a separate thing. It’s not just distracting, it’s overwhelming, and you know me. Right? You know I don’t spook.”

Ronin nodded. He’d been with us in Fallujah. He knew what Caden could do in the face of death. He’d seen how, when necessary, ice water flowed through my husband’s veins.

“You do not spook,” he confirmed.

“We need this,” I said.

“I’m not saying I know what you’re talking about, but let’s say I did. Let’s say I knew a way to heighten your feelings, including feelings of being watched. What then? It’ll only make it worse.”

“Only if it’s real,” I replied. “It heightens the feeling of real eyes. A real enemy. Caden isn’t on the battlefield. There’s no enemy. This could shake the entire thing loose. Ronin.” I put my hand over his. “Please. Send me the efficacy report and I’ll look at it with an open mind. If I think it won’t help, I’ll drop it.”

He took his hand away and used it to hold up his empty whiskey glass for the server. He snapped his napkin open and draped it over his lap, then slid his fork off the table. “Ten bucks says this isn’t even pink inside.”

Caden picked up his steak knife. “You wouldn’t know pink if you had your face in it.”

I wasn’t finished with the conversation, but they were. I picked up my fork and poked at my salad. I felt as if I’d gone to battle and suddenly, without reason, everyone had laid down arms and gone home for lunch with the wounded still bleeding into the mud.



* * *



After seeing Ronin at Gotham, Caden and I were under the sheets in a warm bed, watching the shadows of leaves dance on the ceiling. I knew he wasn’t sleeping, and he had to be aware that I was awake.

“Was it hard to tell Ronin?” I asked finally.

“Yes.”

“We have to try everything at this point.”

“I know. But I don’t have to like it.”

I turned my body toward his and draped my arm over his chest. “One day, we’ll look back on this and say it was the greatest adventure of our lives.”

“We’re not making happy memories.”

“They’ll be different when they’re in the rearview.”

He turned to face me. His nose was a quarter inch from mine, and he might as well have been in a different room. “This won’t. Not for me.”

“Let’s see. Give it time.”

“I’m not even in my own skin. Do you know what it’s like to have a brain that’s not doing what it’s supposed to do?”

“No.”

“I’m a stranger to myself. It’s torture. It’s like I’m broken. Ripped up. And I can’t find the wound to stitch up. When I hurt you, it’s like I find it for a little while, but a new one opens. I’ve never been afraid before. Not really. But when it gets bad and I feel it coming, I don’t know what I’m going to do to stop it, or what’s going to happen if it takes me over.”

I kissed him. “It won’t. We have everything we need to figure it out.”

“You’ve been saying that for months.”

“It’s still true. I don’t give up.”

“Don’t give up on me, Major One More.”

“Never. I’ll never give up on you.”

We shifted like tectonic plates, fitting the muscles and bones of our bodies together until we found comfort in the way our shapes clicked and fell asleep in each other’s arms.





Chapter Fourteen





CADEN - SEPTEMBER, 2001





I was at a prestigious residency at NYU Medical Center, learning under the best heart surgeon on the planet. Roberto García had performed over two thousand open heart procedures, and he’d taken me under his wing. Everything was going fine.

On September 11th, 2001, that all fell apart.

I was on the morning shift when I was called down to emergency. Caked in filth, encased in equipment, burned, screaming, the horror of it all revealed in bones and blood. I wasn’t training as an ER surgeon, but they needed me, so I became one. The nurses were spectacular. They helped me get a handle on the sudden situation. I locked off any feelings about what was happening while I did the job.