Edge of Bliss (Love on the Edge Book 3) Page 6

  “Closer!” he snapped. “I want the shots no one else can get. The ones I was promised he could get me.”

  I whirled back around, clamping my mouth shut so I didn’t say something I’d regret. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself, again, that our producer had never had a tornado drop right on top of him and nearly suck him into the sky. All he saw was the ratings, the killer footage that would have people at home gasping from their couches. He couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to have to weigh what your life was worth on each chase you took part in.

  “What’s it going to be?” he asked. “Are you the Dash I was promised or not?”

  Dash’s shoulders tensed as he took his foot off the brake and slowly turned down the dirt road. My mouth dropped open, and I crossed my arms over my chest, utterly shocked he’d let Daniel bully him into a decision on a chase. I sighed, keeping my eyes on the storm because if I looked at Dash, he’d see nothing but disappointment.

  Daniel clapped his hands together, and I cringed. I didn’t have a problem with weighing the risks and making a decision based on the science in which we practiced, but this . . . this was the wrong reason to get closer. Dash should’ve known that.

  “Travis,” Daniel said, smacking his shoulder. “Get ready. You’re going to want to get all of this.”

  “Blake?” John’s voice sounded in my ear.

  “Yeah?” I asked, tapping the button on my earpiece.

  “What the hell is Dash doing?”

  I spared a quick glance at Dash, whose muscles locked behind the wheel. Before I could answer, he moved to do it for me.

  “We’re getting closer,” he said, his tone sharp.

  “But the road, even from back here I can tell—”

  “I’ve got this,” Dash cut him off.

  “All right, man.” I could hear the frustration in John’s voice, but I was proud of him for not continuing to argue. There was no point now. We were already two hundred yards out, damn near underneath one of the biggest supercells I’d ever seen.

  Every inch of my body tensed as the rain’s descent increased the closer we got. I could feel the truck’s tires suction in the mud it churned up, but I forced myself to focus. There was no going back now.

  A crack of lightning lit up the layers of cloud all around us, electrifying the already neon-like colors barely escaping the masses of dark gray, and a clap of thunder vibrated the entire truck quickly after.

  “Well,” I said as Dash put the truck in park. “Time to do what we’re paid for.” I pushed open my door, my handheld aimed at the southwest portion that we were entirely too close to. Dash’s sigh indicated he’d fully registered my frustration, but he didn’t say a word as he came around the truck to stand next to me, his camera taking in another angle of the cell.

  Adrenaline surged through my veins, so much that my arms and legs started to shake, and though I could’ve blamed it on the ice cold rain that slammed down on us like a waterfall, I knew the difference between being cold and being properly scared. I locked my muscles and held my ground, concentrating on the part of me that was thrilled to see a storm so unique, but as the rotation gathered in speed, my breaths stalled in my throat.

  “Here it comes,” Dash said, moving closer to me so that only an inch separated us.

  Travis took the side opposite me, his camera heavy and steady on his shoulder. Daniel remained with one hand on the truck, his eyes wide as he watched the funnel develop out of the cell.

  Small at first, then faster and faster, an EF-3 snaked sideways and down, out of the layers of cloud, the sound roaring in my ears. Its wind velocity forced the rain to hit us from all angles, turning the buckets of water into sharp, piercing drops that assaulted us from all sides. Despite the tiny instances of pain, I grinned like a maniac, never able to stop the onslaught of amazement that hit me each time I set eyes on a tornado. It was spectacular watching the monster twist from the electrified cloud above it, and even as angry as I was for getting this close, I was overwhelmed by the awe of standing right in the heart of the storm’s presence.

  I moved my camera and my gaze to the left of the tornado, wanting to gather shots of the cell from which it extended out of, and my heart froze in my chest. “Shit!” I screamed over the roar of wind. “Dash!”

  The greens in his eyes were churning as fast as the tornado, and under different circumstances, it would’ve turned me on seeing that special glimpse of intensity, but with another tornado snaking out of the opposite end of the cell, I could only think of getting the hell out of there.

  Not hearing me, I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look where I pointed.

  He flinched when he set eyes on the second tornado, and after glancing back and forth between the two, he did the math that I had seconds ago.

  “We have to move!” he hollered, dropping his arm to his side and rushing toward the truck.

  Daniel was already in and securing his seatbelt, barely giving Travis room to climb over him and take his seat.

  “What’s happening?” Daniel asked as Dash got behind the wheel.

  “They’re about to converge,” I said, trying to get my seatbelt secured with shaking fingers. Dash leaned over and quickly did it for me before pressing on the gas.

  A whirring sound screeched as the tires spun in the mud, but the truck didn’t budge.

  Words died in my throat as he pushed harder on the pedal, only to not gain an inch.

  “Fuck!” Dash smacked the steering wheel as if that would somehow free the stuck tires.

  “Get us out of here, Dash.” The fear in Daniel’s voice was unmistakable, but I kind of wanted to smack him. It was his fault we were out here in the first place. Well, I suppose it had ultimately been Dash’s call, but damn me if I didn’t want to blame him in this moment.

  “I’m trying,” Dash said, and I raked my fingers through my hair. I took my anger out on the side of the door, slamming my fist against it before throwing the door open and stumbling out of the truck. “Blake!” Dash yelled through the opened door.

  “Don’t just sit there, Travis!” I said, motioning him to get out. “Help me push!”

  He set his camera down and climbed out, meeting me at the back of the truck. My heart raced as the two tornadoes crept closer to each other, the sound now louder than ten roaring trains. “Hey,” I snapped my fingers in front of Travis’ face, forcing him to look at me and not at the twisting monsters that were way too close. “On three, okay?” I asked, pressing my shoulder against the bed of the truck. He mimicked me, and I ticked off the seconds on my fingers.

  We shoved with all our might, my boots digging into the now soft road. Dash hit the gas again, and we kept pushing, the strain stinging every single one of my muscles. It was enough, thankfully, because one little budge set the stuck tire on a more solid piece of road and the truck catapulted forward. Travis and I ran to our designated sides and jumped in as Dash spun the truck around and headed toward the paved road several hundred yards away.

  “Thanks for your help,” I snapped, glaring at Daniel who sat silent in his seat.

  He opened his mouth but slit his eyes, switching from fear to annoyance in a matter of seconds. “How was I supposed to know what you were doing?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right. Because it takes a degree in Atmospheric Science to know you have to push a truck out of a muddy hole.” He clamped his mouth shut, turning to look out of the back window at the tornadoes that had now combined to make one giant, churning monster.

  Travis got his camera back out, and I did too, ignoring the anger simmering in my gut, and focusing on the beast that was now in our rearview. The farther we got away from it, the easier I breathed, but I knew we weren’t safe until we reached that pavement—which remained too far away for comfort since Dash couldn’t hit the speeds he needed to get us out quicker.

  “Shit,” Dash said just before loud thumps hit the roof of the truck. “Hail.”

  I flinched as the hits kept coming, the ice d
ropping from the sky the size of golf balls.

  “And debris!” I shouted as I watched a tree branch swipe over the top of the truck, just barely missing it. Damn the larger tornado ripped the surrounding tree branches off like they were popsicle sticks. “We need to go faster.”

  “I can’t,” Dash said, his voice strained.

  “I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice even instead of the level of panic it was close to reaching. “You’re doing great. Just get us there.”

  “On it,” he said, glancing from the road before him to the twister behind us in the rearview mirror and back again.

  “Look out!” Daniel shouted, and I whirled around from where I’d been filming the storm, aiming the camera out the back window.

  I braced myself as I caught sight of another huge branch heading straight for us, but thankfully Dash didn’t swerve which could’ve made us all sitting ducks for the approaching monster behind us.

  Unfortunately, the branch didn’t swerve, and it sideswiped the passenger side of the truck, clipping the mirror outside my window so hard it came crashing through it.

  The gut-wrenching sound of shattering glass surrounded me—instantly flashing me back to the last storm that had nearly killed us—and I tensed as shards sliced over my bare arms and shoulders.

  “Blake!” Dash screamed, and I felt the truck slow.

  “Don’t stop,” I said, my voice a hissing whisper as I gripped a massive cut on my right arm, only now realizing that I’d dropped the handheld. I spared a moment to pray I hadn’t broken it and lost all my footage in my attempt to cover myself from the shower of glass.

  The speed of the truck leveled out, pellets of rain slapping me in the face now that I had no window to protect me from its onslaught. When my fingers became too warm and slick, I glanced down, slightly lifting them to take a closer look at the cut.

  Trails of red ran down my forearm, coating it as if I’d gotten crazy with blood-colored finger paint. When I set eyes on the slice in my skin, seeing the angry red flesh and the sharp, jagged piece of glass sticking out of it, spots popped across my eyes.

  “Blake?” Dash’s voice was almost shrill as he called my name, but I was already falling backward down a dark tunnel, unable to answer him before everything went black.

  Dash

  “YOU CAN’T RIDE with us. Ever. Again.” I’d waited until we’d made it back to the hotel and I got Daniel alone in an empty conference room before I unleashed the anger that had built inside me. The image of Blake—passed out in the bed in our room upstairs, John tending to her wounds because he was better with stitches than myself—froze my heart.

  If I hadn’t felt like a useless piece of shit, then I would’ve stayed there, but this needed to be said now.

  “You don’t have the authority to make that call,” Daniel said, his clothes soaked from the rain. He hadn’t bothered sitting down.

  “The hell I don’t! This is my team! My call!” I slammed my fist on the table.

  “Actually, it’s the network’s call. If you want to get paid. But why don’t you go ahead and think about what you really said there?”

  I glared at him, daring him to push me one step closer to the edge.

  “I’m sorry she got hurt, Dash. Honestly, it’s not like I wanted it to happen.” He came around the table, standing a few inches away from me. “But you said it yourself. It was your call. You didn’t have to do what I said. You chose to.”

  The wind knocked out of me, and I sank into the closest chair. He was right. I could be pissed at him all I wanted, but in the end, I could’ve listened to my gut and not went down that road.

  “Doesn’t change anything,” I finally said. “I don’t want you riding with us again. You and your ideas of what the network wants clouds my judgment. And the second I start making bad calls like I did today will be the moment people on my team get hurt, or worse.” My entire body locked up with the thought of Blake’s injuries being more serious than the ones she had.

  Daniel sighed. “Fine. I accept that,” he said, leaning down to meet my eyes. “You need to understand something, though.”

  I cut my eyes up to him, clenching my hands into fists.

  “You signed a contract. The network owns any footage you capture from here until the year term is up. So, even if you contemplate leaving because you don’t like our methods, you won’t be able to post so much as a YouTube video without us taking you to court. And that clause envelops your entire team.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “I’m not the bad guy here. All you have to do is what you’re good at. Catch storms, get up close, and sometimes take a bit more risk if we think it’s necessary.” He smiled. “And in return, you get all the new toys, a lab to play in, and a paycheck. Something your little site never provided before we happened upon it.”

  I gritted my teeth, wracking my brain for the portion of the contract that I had missed. It had all happened so fast, and the language was so over my head. The network had provided a lawyer to walk us through it, but he had never said anything this clear when he’d been reading over the stipulations portion of the contract.

  Standing up so fast the chair behind me fell backward, I sucked in a sharp breath. “No one is leaving, so your threats are pointless. All they do is make me less likely to cooperate with you in the future.” I righted the chair I’d knocked over and headed to the door, my chest tightening with worry. How was I going to tell the guys about this? Tell Blake? Just one more thing on the list of things I’d overlooked when signing us up to be on one of the biggest networks in the nation.

  “If we chase tomorrow, then you and Travis will ride in a separate vehicle behind us,” I said, my fingers around the handle of the door.

  “What do you mean if?”

  I shook my head. “I have to go check on Blake.”

  “You want to talk about people who cloud your judgment? There is your biggest contender. I know all the rumors about you were true because I saw them in your footage. Nothing used to keep you from taking the risks other chasers wouldn’t. Along comes Blake—”

  “Whatever else is about to come out of your mouth,” I said, pushing the door open, “is something you’ll want to keep to yourself. I will honor our contact and respect you as a business partner, but speak negatively about Blake in any way? I’ll fucking knock your ass out.” I turned into the hallway, not bothering to stick around to hear whatever retort he may have had for that.

  Blake needed me, or at least, I hoped she did. As I pushed the elevator button to go up to our room, I wasn’t entirely sure she’d want to see me. Not after I’d acted like an ass and taken us right into the danger zone, or more like ten yards past it.

  “How is she?” I asked after entering our room.

  Paul leaned against the bathroom door, his arms crossed over his chest. “She’s fine. Just couldn’t stand the sight of a little blood is all. Big baby if you ask me.”

  “Like to see you handle having glass slide into you like a hot knife through butter!” Blake yelled from the bed farther in the room, and I hurried to her side.

  Pillows propped her up, her hair wet as it fanned around her. John was in the process of wrapping her right forearm in gauze, and she was glaring playfully at Paul from where she sat.

  “I’m sorry, Blake,” I said, dropping to my knees beside her.

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “You know what I have to do to you now that you said that?”

  I smirked, shaking my head at her lighthearted mood after what had happened on the chase. “Later,” I said, taking her good hand. “I wouldn’t want you to pop one of your stitches.” I eyed John.

  “Didn’t have to,” he said, setting her arm gently down on the bed. “It wasn’t as deep as we thought. She just bleeds . . . a lot. I cleaned it and the rest of her cuts up and then used a few butterfly bandages. She’ll be good in a couple of days.”

  A breath released from my tight lungs, and I nodded my thanks. We were all trained in
first responder education, but he was the best with injuries of all kinds. In another life, the guy would’ve made an excellent paramedic.

  “Thank you, Doctor John,” Blake teased before squeezing my hand. “What is with the serious face? I’m fine.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “Stop,” she said. “That could’ve happened on any one of the chases we’ve been on.”

  “But it didn’t happen on any of those, Blake. It happened on this one!” My tone was much sharper than I’d meant it to be. I raked my hands through my hair, sighing. “I chose to put us closer. I chose to listen to Daniel. Let him get in my head when I knew better.”

  “We’ve made calls like that before he ever came around, Dash.” She eyed me, daring me to keep arguing with her.

  “Well, that vending machine is calling my name,” Paul said, interrupting us. “John we should go before this gets to a level of heated we really don’t want to see.”

  John nodded. “Later.”

  The two bolted from the room, the door slamming behind them.

  “I want you to know I told him he can’t ride along with us anymore.”

  “I’m not sad about that.” She shrugged. “But it wasn’t your fault I got hurt.”

  I sank onto the bed next to her, and she immediately hugged my side, placing her injured arm in my lap as she rested her head on my chest. “I won’t ever let anything like that happen again,” I said, kissing the top of her rain-soaked hair.

  “Don’t say things like that,” she said, glancing up at me. “We chase tornadoes for a living. You can’t guarantee that I won’t get hurt again, just like I can’t guarantee that you won’t. And I’ve seen you bleed before, remember? I don’t like it, either, but I know there isn’t a thing I can do about it because this is what we do.”

  I studied her face, looking into those dark brown eyes, and I knew what she said was nothing shy of the truth. But I could also see something else there, something that wasn’t entirely happy with me for letting Daniel push me into doing a move I wasn’t fully on board with. If she knew all the other things Daniel and I had discussed recently—about the terms around this job I hadn’t even realized were there—she’d be even more disappointed in me. I wasn’t going to let that happen.