Mine To Have (Mine - Romantic Suspense Book 5) (13 page)

Victor swallowed. “Even the strong can’t stop death.”  Then he pulled from her. “I have to go call our sister—I have to call Jasmine. She needs to know about Saxon.”  He hurried toward those swinging doors.

And Elizabeth was left there. She looked down at her shaking fingers and saw Saxon’s blood on her hands.   

So many people had died in this mess. Wesley.  The men at the motel.  That bastard Taggert.

And even my parents—it’s all linked.

But Saxon, no, he couldn’t die, too.  She
couldn’t
lose him. Not when she’d just found him. 

Chapter Nine

“Have I ever mentioned…” Victor demanded, his voice rough and hard, “how much I hate it when you pull your hero crap with me?”

Ah, if Vic was pissed, then Saxon knew he was going to be just fine.  With his eyes still closed, Saxon smiled. “’Cause you’re…jealous…when I get the glory.”

“And the bullets in your sorry hide.”

Yes, the bullets.  Those would be why he felt so ridiculously weak right then.  Saxon sucked in a breath and opened his eyes.
Might as well see the damage.
But when he looked down, he saw only the white hospital covers.

“They stitched you up. Had to give you some blood because you’d lost too much, but you’ll make it.”

He looked over at Victor. Vic was pale as he sat in the chair near the hospital bed.  “You look…” Saxon managed. “Like hell.”

“Yeah, well, you look like shit, so I guess that makes us a pretty good match.” Victor’s lips curled faintly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. And, after a moment, the smile faded completely. “I had to call Jazz.”

Damn. “You shouldn’t have…worried her.” Jazz. Jasmine Bennett. Well, now Jasmine Archer.  Once upon a time, Saxon, Victor, and Jasmine had come together on the streets. They’d relied on one another for survival, and, as time slid past, they’d turned into a family.

If a fairly screwed-up one.

“She’s flying down here.”

His eyes closed. “I’m fine. She doesn’t need to see me.”  The last thing he wanted was to worry Jasmine. She’d been through enough hell. The woman was supposed to be happy now, living the high life with her rich and adoring husband in Vegas.
And if that guy ever forgets to be adoring, Vic and I will kick his ass.
 

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

Saxon stiffened. “I’m a bleeder.” He hadn’t been that close to death, had he?

“You almost died on the chopper ride here. If you didn’t stay with us, then hell yes, Jazz deserved to know. She would have kicked my ass if I hadn’t told her.”

But Jasmine would just worry about him, and he hated for her to worry. She’d gotten lucky a few months back. Found a smart man who appreciated her for all that she was—a man who’d been willing to risk his life in order to protect Jasmine from the dangers that stalked her.

She deserved some happiness. She didn’t deserve to get pulled back into his and Victor’s mess.

“Tell me,” he said softly, “that Gary died on the chopper.”

One less threat facing Elizabeth.

“He’s in critical condition.”

The machines near Saxon were beeping in a steady rhythm. “I should’ve shot him when I had the chance.”

Victor gripped his arm. “That’s not how the FBI works. You know that.”

Exhaustion pulled at him.  Maybe from the blood loss. Maybe from the drugs they’d no doubt pumped into him. But Saxon managed to open his eyes once more. “How many times do I have to…tell you? Not FBI…anymore.”

“Then you’re still going through with it? Walking away…starting new?”

“Yes.” His eyes were sagging closed.  His future waited. That perfect spot that he’d picked out in California. Jazz’s husband had even been helping him manage that place for the last few months.
Something else I owe Drake for.

One day, he’d pay him back.

“You sure…about the things you’ll be giving up?”

“Undercover assignments…days with drug dealers…thieves…murderers?”  He exhaled. “I’m sure.”

“Then I’ll put the paperwork through,” Victor told him, “and Saxon Black will be no more.”  He rose then, and headed for the door.  But then he hesitated. “You haven’t asked about her.”

He fought to keep his eyes open a few seconds more.

“She was giving up her life for you…you know that, right, man?” Victor looked back at him. “You took two bullets while you were protecting her, and she ran out to face Gary, giving herself up,
for you.
”

He knew exactly what Elizabeth had done. He would never forget it. Or her.

It’s not possible to forget her.

“You haven’t asked about her,” Victor said again. “Why the hell not?”

He swallowed.  His throat ached. Had they shoved a tube down it? The docs were always so eager to do that. “Why ask…” Saxon muttered. “For what you can’t have?”

Elizabeth deserved someone a whole lot better than he was. Someone who wasn’t so comfortable with death. Someone who didn’t have to be talked down from killing a man.

Someone who wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of his own, real laughter.

“Others will come after her.”

The machines around him beeped—fast and hard.

“I mean, if that hit is still on her, don’t you think they’ll come?” Victor pushed. ‘When word leaks about what went down in Miami, others will appear to collect the bounty. Even though Luther Bates is still in prison, we both know his power stretches far beyond those walls. If he wants her dead…”

She will be.
Victor didn’t say those words. But then, he didn’t have to voice them.  Saxon knew the score. He knew how men like Luther worked.

Saxon’s hands fisted. The machines near him—and their annoying beeping—seemed to be growing louder. “Then you have to…make Luther cancel the hit.”

Victor stared back at him. “And if he doesn’t? You know there’s only one option I can give her.”

A new name. A new life.  Somewhere else. Witness Protection—it was the option that Victor had offered to Jazz when her life had been on the line.

“Then she’s gone,” Victor told him quietly. “For good.  You going to be okay with that?”

No, he wasn’t okay with that. He wasn’t okay with anything about this tangled hell. He’d walked into the back room of The Blade and gotten caught by a pair of frightened green eyes. Desperate eyes.

“I’ll give you forty-eight hours.” Victor inclined his head toward Saxon. “Then there will be nothing I can do for you.”  He opened the door and left.

Saxon’s eyes closed.
Elizabeth.
Talk about a twisted fate. He’d spent years in hell, and, days before he’d gotten out of his undercover business, he’d been offered a visit to heaven.

And all he’d had to do…was nearly die for that pleasure.

It was totally fucking worth it.

***

A soft hand brushed over his cheek, pulling Saxon from the darkness of sleep.

“Oh, Saxon,” a low, feminine voice sighed his name, “what have you done to yourself this time?”

The voice and the touch were familiar.  So when his eyes opened, he had a smile on his lips because he didn’t want Jasmine to worry about him.

She stood beside his bed, and she wasn’t alone.  The shark-in-a-suit that was her new husband—Drake Archer—waited at her side.

“You got here fast,” Saxon said, the words a little too gruff.

“That’s the benefit of having a private jet.”  Jasmine—hell, to him she would always just be Jazz—smiled at him. “I’m a long way from those streets where we met.”

But they hadn’t technically met on the streets. They’d met in a blood-stained boxing ring. In fights that weren’t sanctioned anywhere.  He and Victor had been facing off. They’d beat each other to bloody pulps—all to earn a little cash. For food. For survival. When the fight had ended, everyone else had left, everyone but Jazz. She’d patched them up.

They’d become family.

Saxon’s gaze slid toward Drake. As usual, the guy was watching him with a wary stare and keeping his hand on Jazz.  After all the shit that had went down in their relationship, it wasn’t surprising that Drake was still afraid Jazz might slip right through his fingers and vanish.

The way Elizabeth is going to do. 

She edged ever closer to him. “I’m not supposed to get a call from Victor, telling me that you’re fighting for your life.”

He tried to sit up. The damn stitches were pulling. “Vic panicked. I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.  If you were fine, then you wouldn’t be in that bed. The doctors wouldn’t have spent hours stitching you back up.”

He caught her hand.  He’d always wanted to protect Jazz, even from the first moment they’d met. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to guard her, not like he wanted. She’d worked undercover for Victor, too, and on her last case, she’d been hurt.
Right in front of me.
Whenever he remembered that moment, fury tore through him.  And he wanted to kill the bastard who’d put his hand on her.

He knew that Jazz’s husband felt the same way. Drake might look like a fancy suit, but the guy had some real killer instincts. He’d proved that, again and again.

It’s why I like the guy. Why I told Vic to back the hell off and let Jazz be happy with him.

“What happened? Vic would only say that a mission went bad.”

Very bad. “We had a traitor in our midst. He came after me and Vic and the…the woman I was protecting.”

Jasmine’s brown eyes showed her worry. “Is he still a threat?”

“According to Vic, he’s here in the hospital, hooked up to more machines than I am.”

Drake whistled. “And I’m guessing you’re the reason he’s that way.”

Saxon focused on Drake. “He was going to kill Elizabeth. So yeah, I wanted him dead.”
Don’t act like you can’t relate.

Drake nodded. “I’m surprised he’s still alive.”

“Victor made me stop.” Victor, and Elizabeth. Because he hadn’t wanted her to see him as just a killer.  Now, well, now she’d probably never be seeing him again, so what did it matter?

“You should come back to Vegas with us,” Jasmine said, her words rushing out. When she got nervous, her words always sounded a little fast to him. “There’s plenty of room—”

Uh, yeah, because Drake owned a chunk of Sin City.

“And I can keep an eye on you.”

Drake nodded. “You know you’re always welcome. You’re family.”

Saxon pulled Jasmine close and gave her a hug. He ignored the sting of the stitches. What did a little pain matter? “I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

“You scared me,” she whispered. There was a brief pause and then she revealed, “But that wildness you carry…it’s always scared me a bit. Sometimes, it seemed like you had a death wish.”

Not anymore.  He eased back a bit. “I’m done with undercover work. I’m free, Jazz. Free.”

She smiled up at him.

“But I’m not coming to Vegas.”

Her smile dimmed.

“You know what I have waiting on me.”  His dream.  So close.

And, yet…still far away.

Did that dream always seem a little empty? Or was that just because—because I won’t see Elizabeth again?

“I get to visit you,” Jasmine said.

“Anytime you want.” Of course, he’d be different in this new life.  He’d leave his killing past behind.  No longer would he have to pretend to be a criminal—
I’ve been pretending for so long that I almost lost myself.

But then he’d busted into that back room at The Blade and seen her.

Jasmine was searching his gaze. “Something is different.”

“I’m drugged,” he told her bluntly. “Pain meds.” That he hated. He’d already told the docs no more.  He couldn’t stand the slow, sluggish feeling in his body.

“Not that.” Her hand waved vaguely toward him. “You seem different.” Her gaze turned calculating. “Who was the woman?”

Elizabeth.       

He looked away from Jasmine.   He hadn’t seen Elizabeth since he’d woken up. Saxon knew Victor had her in protective custody, with a guard always close by.

“Ah,” Jasmine murmured, a wealth of understanding in that word. “Now I understand.”

No, she didn’t. Because he didn’t even understand.  He glanced back at her. She’d returned to Drake’s side. Their fingers linked together.

“I guess you have to figure out,” Drake murmured, obviously sharing some kind of weird psychic-connection with his new bride, “if she’s the kind that you want to fight for or the kind that you let go.”  He looked down at Jasmine. “Because I sure as hell could never let you go.”

No, the guy hadn’t been able to walk away.  He’d done anything, everything, for Jasmine.

Because he loved her.

“I don’t love Elizabeth,” he said.  The words came out hollow.  “How could I love someone I just met?”  She’d made him happy, yes, given him incredible pleasure.  Driven him to distraction. Had him wanting to fight the world to protect her but—

“She’s better off without me,” he muttered.

“Ah, Sax,” Jasmine sighed his name. “You know I can always tell when you lie.” 

***

“Am I under arrest?”   Elizabeth asked softly.

The man across from her shook his head.

Her breath came out in a low rush. “Then is there a particular reason why you’ve been holding me here for the last day?” Because it sure felt like an arrest to her.  When she’d finally broken out of her stupor and tried to surge into that hospital after Saxon, she’d found cops on their way to get her. Three uniformed men had closed in, and they’d taken her from that hospital, even though she’d fought them.

Maybe punched one in the jaw.

She’d just…wanted to see Saxon. To make sure he was all right. So she’d gotten a little out of control.  Keeping her locked up after that little episode had hardly been necessary.

“This isn’t legal.” They hadn’t put her in a cell. Instead, they’d given her an office to crash in. Made sure she had plenty of food. Access to a bathroom. But she hadn’t been able to leave.

Because she had a guard wherever she went.

“I know my rights,” Elizabeth continued when the young cop before her just kept staring back into her eyes. “I want to go home.”  Back to the place where this nightmare had started. It seemed like a lifetime ago—she’d been heading to her apartment when those goons had grabbed her. She’d fought, lost her shoes, and found herself thrown into the back of their vehicle.  They’d put a hood over her head and tied her up.  When that hood had finally come off, she’d found a gun pointing at her.