At the Edge by Laura Griffin

yet. Basically, the same bullshit she’s been getting everywhere else. Frankly, the only reason anyone’s even taking her calls is because her dad’s a congressman.”
    Ryan waited. It sounded like Emma was being a pain in the ass, but he didn’t know what Hewitt expected him to do about it. The CO was watching him closely.
    â€œI understand you spent the most time with her during the rescue op.”
    â€œThat’s correct.”
    â€œAnd what’s your take?”
    His CO wanted his honest assessment, not the crap Ryan had put in his report. “She held up pretty good, sir. She’s stronger than she looks.”
    â€œI read her statement. She remembered very little about the crash itself. Sounds like she might have been in shock for a lot of it. She said nothing about the plane taking a hit.”
    â€œShe was definitely in shock,” Ryan said. “That was my take when I found her, and same with Jake when he checked her over. Could be she’s remembering more now than she did when they debriefed her.”
    Hewitt nodded grimly. The room was silent for a moment, and then he checked his watch and stood up, grabbing a file folder off the stack.
    â€œThings are going well for you, Owen.” He walked around the desk. “You’re one of this team’s top officers because you know how to focus and you think on your feet. So I know I don’t have to remind you of your obligation.”
    His obligation . . . To refrain from sharing classified intel? To refrain from screwing the congressman’s daughter?
    Probably both.
    Hewitt clapped him on the shoulder. “Enjoy your leave, Lieutenant. I’ll see you Friday at 0600.”
    â€”——
    The streets of San Diego were slick from a recent shower as Emma wended her way back to her hotel. It had been a long, frustrating day, and she’d made little progress. Even with her shameless name-dropping, it was getting harder and harder to get people to return her calls and e-mails. The dot-gov world was tighter than most people knew, and once word got around, it hadn’t taken long for Emma to ascend to the top of everyone’s Do Not Call Back list.
    She cruised along, watching the sailors making their way between bars. She tried to imagine Ryan in one of those crisp white uniforms, but she could only picture him in camo and greasepaint.
    A warm shiver moved through her as she remembered him crouched in front of her by that rain-forest stream, doing his damnedest not to spook her. He must have thought she was crazy, all filthy and wild-eyed and babbling incoherently. At that moment, she had felt crazy. Not just crazy but scared out of her mind. And yet Ryan had talked to her like she was a perfectly rational person and calmly proceeded to pluck her off her feet and whisk her to safety.
    The entire experience had changed her. Fundamentally. Since coming home, she’d felt a constant buzz of anxiety, along with a gnawing certainty that something was off-balance. Or just plain off. The sensation was relentless, and nothing she did would make it go away.
    But seeing Ryan again—and yes, kissing him—had made her feel abundantly better, if only for that fleeting time on the beach when he’d pulled her into his arms. Everything about it had felt so good, so inevitable.
    It seemed odd to have such a strong tie to a man she barely knew. But then again, maybe it wasn’t. She’d been through something she never could have imagined she would experience, and Ryan had been part of it. He understood her in a way that other people didn’t and couldn’t. Even though she’d only known him a short time, she felt a deep connection to him, deeper than with almost anyone in her life. The question that kept nagging her was . . . did he feel it, too?
    It’s my job.
    His words stung. Even now, days later.
    His words had been harsh, but at least they’d been truthful.