Mine to Have (Mine #5)(33)

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.