Mine to Have (Mine #5)(29)
Author: Cynthia Eden

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.

I was in The Blade then. Saxon came in the door and asked for an hour with me.

“How is Saxon?” Elizabeth whispered.

He opened his mouth to speak.

And that was the same instant that the door to that little office opened.

Her gaze immediately swung to the left, and when she saw Victor standing there, Elizabeth surged to her feet. She was across the room in an instant, and her hands fisted around his shirt. “Saxon! Is Saxon all right?”

Victor’s gaze cut toward the cop. “Take a break.”

The guy hesitated. “But I’m her shift guard—”

“And I’m here now,” Victor pointed out, his voice carrying a lethal softness, “so take a f**king break.”

The cop’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he hurried for the door.

Elizabeth kept her death grip on Victor’s shirt. The agent looked tired, with deep shadows under his eyes. His hair was mussed, and tension was evident on the lines that bracketed his mouth.  “He’s not dead,” she said, shaking her head.  “Don’t you say that he is.”

The door shut behind the cop.  Victor looked down at Elizabeth’s hands.  Carefully, his fingers curled around hers, and he slowly pushed her back a bit. “I’m sorry you were held here, but when I found out that I had a turncoat on my own team, I couldn’t take chances.”