Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,48

looking up at Ben, her stomach churning, her smile carefully fixed in place. At the moment, with all the makeup and her frozen expression, she figured she looked more like a mannequin in a horror movie than a prostitute.

“Do you see Hutchins?” she asked.

“I got him spotted. Over to the left about two o’clock.”

Her adrenaline took a leap as her gaze swung in that direction. There was enough light to see him—dark blond hair, rangy build, scruffy blond beard along his jaw. She wasn’t sure she could have picked him out from the glimpse she’d gotten as he drove the Camaro out of town, or watching him walk in the darkness toward the barn. But Ben had seen his photo, and he was trained for that kind of thing.

“I don’t see Troy,” she said.

“Keep looking.” He spoke low in her ear. “Anything goes wrong, you know the drill. Get to the car as fast as you can. Give me five minutes. If I don’t get there or if you’re threatened, haul ass for the highway. Find a motel and leave a message on my phone where I can find you.”

Claire swallowed. They’d both gotten keys to the SUV at the rental car agency. She hadn’t considered she might have to leave Ben and drive off by herself. A shiver of fear slid through her.

“What...what are you going to do?”

“For now, just wait for Bridger. If he doesn’t show, we’ll follow Hutchins back to his apartment. I’ll find out what he knows about Sam.”

Those icy eyes looked hard as steel. She didn’t want to think how far Ben would push to get the information he wanted.

Instead, she searched the faces in the barn, looking for Troy or Sam. At the edge of the circle of light illuminating the ring, rough-looking men and blowsy women cheered for the victorious rooster. A number of the men were armed, blatantly wearing knives hooked onto their belts or strapped to their thighs. She was sure some of them carried weapons in their pockets.

It was a dangerous crowd and it horrified her to think that Troy might be bringing Sam to a place like this.

“Hutchins is moving,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The door on the west led to the beer stand, where Hutchins was probably headed. Guards were posted beside each open door, watching for police, she assumed, or keeping out unwanted guests.

She let Ben guide her toward the door, saw Hutchins disappear outside. Ben eased her into a shadowy corner.

“I need to know where he’s going, but I need your eyes in here. Will you be okay for a couple of minutes?”

“I’ll be all right.” She ignored the tattooed, leather-jacketed man standing among several others a few feet away. She didn’t want to think what could happen to her if Ben didn’t return.

He bent his head and kissed her long and deep, sending a message to the men that she was his possession, warning them not to bother her. It was part of the role they were playing, but the heat of his mouth over hers didn’t feel like acting. It didn’t keep her already-hammering heart from kicking up another notch.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, loud enough for the men to hear, and then he was gone, disappearing quietly into the cheering throng. She scanned her surroundings, her mission clear. Locate Sam and Bridger if they were in the barn.

The shouting continued, each roar marking a bloody victory she didn’t want to imagine. Instead, she kept searching the shadows, looking for Sam and Troy, praying Ben would return.

Claire stifled a gasp as she spotted them, Troy with a beer cup in his hand, his other hand resting on Sam’s small shoulder. They were headed toward the east-side door that led out to a row of portable toilets. She’d only caught a glimpse of Sam as he turned away, but his body language told her he wasn’t happy about being there.

Claire’s insides squeezed. Sam had always been softhearted when it came to animals. This had to be tearing him apart.

Frantically, she glanced around, looking for Ben, hoping to see him walking back inside. No sign of him. Terrified they would get away, Claire started for the door, determined to keep them in sight. Her heart was pounding, throbbing so hard it hurt. Lifting her head, hoping to project an air of confidence as she imagined a paid-for lady would, she walked toward the door.

She could feel two pairs of eyes on her as she stepped out