Mine to Have (Mine #5)(12)

He cranked the truck and got them out of there, not going too fast this time, and she was sure glad he’d ditched his devil-may-care speed. “I also picked up a burner phone while I was inside,” he told her. “At our next stop, I’ll check in with Victor.”

Their next stop. Right. They were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. She looked to the left and only saw the Everglades. To the right—same thing. “Where are we going?”

His jaw tightened as he kept his stare on the road. “There’s a little cabin up ahead. It’s real secluded, and, in a spot like that, we’ll have plenty of warning if we get any unwanted visitors.”

Warning they hadn’t exactly gotten in the motel room.

“I keep thinking this is a bad dream.” No, she kept hoping it was. “What could I have done that made someone want to kill me?” To know that someone out there hated her so much…goosebumps rose on her arms.

“You threw over Wesley Locke. The guy doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”

Her hands gripped the dashboard. “He’s really a…criminal?” He’d seemed so nice, so sophisticated and cultured. Every time they’d been together, he’d played the perfect gentleman.

“One the FBI has been trying to take down for years.”

She truly had the worst luck with men.

“But for him to come after you with guns blazing like this…you must have seen something you shouldn’t have, sweetheart. Something that made him put out a hit on you—”

“Stop it.”

He slanted her a fast glance. “There’s no denying the hit. What I don’t get is why he wanted you to suffer. Why not just kill you fast?”

She grabbed his arm. Felt the muscles stiffen beneath her touch. “I meant, stop calling me sweetheart.” She didn’t like it when he used that endearment. It made her stomach clench and her heart race and it was just…just ridiculous. “You don’t mean it, so don’t say it, okay? I kind of have this rule—it’s a no bullshit rule. Don’t ever tell me something you don’t mean, got it?”

“I got it.”

“And Wesley...” She exhaled on a long sigh as she released his arm. “It just didn’t work between us. There wasn’t any chemistry.”

He made an odd sound, kind of like he was choking.

She glanced out at the Everglades. “When he kissed me, I wanted fireworks. I didn’t get them.” And she’d told herself she wouldn’t settle for anything less. Why couldn’t she have wild, hot passion? Wesley had been a gentlemen, yes, one who’d seemed to have ice water in his veins.

“No…um, chemistry?” Saxon repeated. “So when you screwed him, it just left you—”

Her gaze shot right back to him. Narrowed. “I didn’t.”

“He didn’t get you off?” Now he sounded distinctly annoyed. “I would,” he promised. “I’d make sure you screamed for me.”

Her heart was galloping in her chest. “What I meant was that we-we didn’t have sex. It didn’t get that far.”

Once more, his head turned quickly and his gaze met hers. His dark stare held hers with a hard intensity that made it a little difficult for her to draw in a breath.

“We didn’t,” she said again.

His focus shifted back to the road.

She hesitated a moment and then said, “So, you see, there’s no way Wesley could want me dead. We just went out a few times. It’s not like he’s some big spurned lover.” She didn’t have any of those. Sure, she’d had lovers, but none of them had been declaring love for her, and she hadn’t been falling for them. Sometimes, Elizabeth felt as if she were always looking for the right guy, the one who would kiss her and—bam, everything would change for her. “There are no big spurned lovers. No guy who just couldn’t bear to give me up.”

“You’re not seeing the right men,” he muttered.

Had she just heard him right?

“A woman like you…giving up someone like you would never be easy.”

A strange warmth spread through her. Saxon had just given her a compliment. “I-I’m sure the ladies have a hard time letting you go.”

“They don’t know who I really am. Sometimes, I’m not even sure I know.” Then he spun them around in the middle of the road. She gave a little scream and her hands flew out to touch the dashboard.

Then the vehicle braked to a stop. Right there. In the middle of the road. “Saxon!” Now she was yelling at him, not screaming—a huge difference. “Are you insane?”

“I don’t trust many people.”

The seatbelt cut into her shoulder.

“The FBI is supposed to be clearing Wesley Locke.”

“Um, you’re FBI.”

“But the last time I waited for the FBI, we had guests at our room—guests who came with guns blazing.” He started driving again. “I’m not waiting now. If Locke put this hit on you, then that shit is getting canceled, right now.”

He was driving fast. Way too fast. “Wh-where are we going?”

“You know where Wesley Locke lives, right?”

“Yes…”

“Then it’s time to turn the tables. It’s time for him to get a little late-night visit.”