Page 72 of Over the Edge

“In a heartbeat,” she declared.

“Easy to say, now. Much harder to do in the heat of the moment when it means you’re no shit going to die.”

“I guess we’ll find out if I’ve got what it takes, won’t we?” she replied lightly.

“But at what cost?” Trevor stood up and stared down at her. “I came out here expecting to die for Kenny. But did you?”

And with that, he turned and headed for his tent. She watched him crawl inside and disappear, and then it was just her and the fire, the night sky, and her troubled thoughts.

Was he right? Had she just been playing at being a real soldier so far? Had too much of this been an elaborate effort to impress him? God knew, there had been plenty of times in the past year when impressing him had been the only thing keeping her going. A crush on a hot guy was emphatically not a strong enough reason to do this job.

Was she really committed to dying for her brothers? Did she have the unthinking, knee-jerk heroism required of SEALs?

Problem was, the only way to find out was to stare down death, square in the eye. And she had a sinking feeling that was going to happen sooner rather than later.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Anna spent most of the night patrolling their camp. Whenever she got cold, she returned to the little fire, fed it more wood, and pondered Trevor’s challenge to her.

She didn’t doubt that she would die in a hot minute to protect him. Which was a revelation about just how deep for him her feelings ran. But what about the other members of Team Reaper? Were they family enough to elicit the same reaction out of her?

She thought about it long and hard as she roamed around in the dark, circling their camp. Ultimately, she concluded that she did love them all in their own annoying big brother ways. Axe, with his gruff, tough exterior and teddy bear heart. Jojo with his smooth charm and million-dollar smile. Even taciturn Leo, who was hurting bad but refused to acknowledge his pain.

A faint noise made her freeze, listening. It had been a quiet sound. Furtive even. It took her a second to identify it…the click of the truck door.

What was Mansur up to?

She eased away from the fire and faded into the darkness in full hunting mode. She didn’t appreciate how outstanding her training had been until moments like this when her pulse barely spiked and she knew exactly what to do. She moved cautiously, using the shadows to her advantage and sticking to the cover of the trees.

A twig snapped.

Ahh, Mansur. You are a lamb playing with wolves. She moved rapidly toward the sound, not far from the back of Trevor’s tent. Did Mansur actually intend to slit Trevor’s throat? Even after knowing she was standing guard out here and seeing what she was capable of?

She eased her field knife out of its sheath. The sound of gunshots carried forever in mountainous terrain, and she didn’t relish having to bug out from this cozy little camp just because she’d been too lazy to take out Mansur quietly.

She spotted him standing beneath the spreading branches of a spruce, staring at Trevor’s tent with pure malice.

Oh, I don’t think so. Nobody messes with my man!

Hot mama bear instincts fueling her cold stealth, she crept up behind Mansur until she could almost reach out and touch his back. Poor bastard was about to get the shock of his life when she tapped on his shoulder. She started to reach out, but just then he eased a big knife out of his waistband.

She recalculated quickly. What if he actually knew how to fight with that blade? If so, she would have to surprise him. Give him no chance to defend himself.

Mansur took one more step toward Trevor’s tent, lifting the knife high, clearly planning to stab Trevor through the thin nylon shelter.

It was all she needed to see. She darted forward and jumped on Mansur’s back as she slashed across his throat. He went down with a cry that rapidly turned to gurgling as he choked on his own blood.

Trevor jumped out of the tent, handgun at the ready, as she rolled off Mansur and pushed to her feet, breathing hard.

Trevor darted forward and kicked Mansur’s knife away from the guy’s hand. “Tried to kill me?” he asked tersely.

She nodded. And that was when she started to shake. Mansur was not some random thief or a thug extorting truckers. He was her cousin, for goodness’ sake. A distant one, but family, nonetheless.

Strong arms came around her. Trevor drew her close, and she inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of him on a half-sob. “Why am I reacting like this?” she demanded against his chest. “I killed those other men just fine.”

“Because you knew this one. And because you expected better of him.”

“I hate it when people let me down,” she mumbled.

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