She was afraid he would say that.
“Tomorrow. Today…tonight…Thompson was right. We should…stay here and just…process it.” He leaned on the rail, the sun hitting his face. She leaned to kiss his cheek softly.
“Get some sleep eventually,” she whispered. “And eat this.” She forced the sandwich in his hand. He had the stomach to take a bite, which meant he was doing a little better.
When she made it inside, she forced Zander to lie down and put a blanket over him. She didn’t want him sleeping curled in an upright ball. It would only make him feel worse when he woke up.
They were all emotionally drained and physically exhausted. She ran her fingers through his wonderful red hair. She leaned down and kissed the freckled bridge of his nose. Her hands were shaking as she pulled away.
She found Jasper next, still in the kitchen, looking lost. “I’m going to try and lie down,” she told him, kissing his cheek.
“Okay,” he replied, not moving. “I’m going to try and keep everyone fed, and…”
“Come lie down,” she ordered.
“I will in a bit,” he promised.
She nodded. There was no forcing him to get any sleep and she knew better than to try. Eventually, exhaustion would claim him too.
Her hands were still shaking as she went into the guest bedroom. She stripped, just letting her things fall to the floor. The daggers, the kukri, and the throwing knives. Her clothing, messy. She stepped into the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and cleaned the slices Naseem had given her carefully. She should have seen a healer at the hospital, but she relished in the painful sting as she cared for them herself.
A physical reminder she was alive. They would scar, and then they would be a permanent reminder of the long night.
After that, she fell into the bed and didn’t move.
The tears finally came as she curled into a ball, covering her head - the tears she’d held back, the tears she wished weren’t so necessary. She didn’t get under the blankets as the room got too cold and she fell into the quiet despair and hurt, her heart being ripped from her chest.
Sombra jumped on the bed with her, not pushing any of her own emotions into the bond. She just curled up with her Magi, a warm body in the cold room. A quiet love, an endless love, and a comfort that only the jaguar could offer her.
Eventually, she reached out and wrapped her arms around the big black cat, burying her face into the fur, and cried harder, gut-wrenching sobs taking over.
She stayed like that until the exhaustion took her.
“I’m dreaming,” Sawyer whispered, glaring at the body in front of her. “This isn’t real.”
She tried to look away to see another body.
And another.
And another.
All around her, she was surrounded by bodies. Nameless faces and those she knew. The ones she knew, she ignored, knowing they would just fuck with her. That those faces weren’t the dead. They were alive, in the condo with her. They weren’t dead, so she refused to look at them.
“This isn’t real,” she repeated. Sombra tugged on the bond, but she didn’t leave the dream. She didn’t wake up. She also wasn’t sure she could. Her body was too tired and it needed the physical rest.
“Sawyer!” Jasper called, running for her, through the bodies around her. “You can’t…you can’t stay in this. Leave, like Sombra is asking you to.”
“I can’t,” she said, nearly hysterical.
She laughed until tears fell from her eyes, then the sobs took over again.
Jasper grabbed her, clinging to her like she was going to collapse and become one of the bodies around them. “Let’s change this,” he whispered. She felt the magic sweep over the gruesome landscape and when she reopened her eyes, the field of bodies was gone.
Instead, they were in her room, back in Georgia. Back to normal and her life.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She looked at the television and the couches. “Can we play video games?”
“Do you know any of them well enough to recall them perfectly?” he asked with a small smile.
“No.”
“Then probably not. All of this is constructed from your memory. I can change it to other things but, really, this is your mind. If the information isn’t there, I can’t put it there.” He pulled her to the bed. “Let’s just lie down.”
“You can leave…you don’t have to stay.”
“If I go, I’m worried it’ll go back to what it was. I don’t want you in that. Come on.”
She nodded, nearly falling onto the bed next to him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight.
She needed this.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“No,” he admitted. “I’m very far from okay, but I don’t know what else to do. I can do this. I can find…comfort in helping those still alive.”
She pressed her face into his chest. “I just want to feel alive again,” she murmured. “I just want this month to end. I want to go back to yesterday and tell him he was a good man. Tell him to take Dina to the hospital. Anything.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “I can only help with one of those things, and I need it too.”
She would have asked what he meant, but when she looked up at him, confused, he just kissed her, desperate.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
Alive.
Yes, this was very alive.
She clung to his shirt, her tongue claiming his mouth. She pushed him back when she needed to catch her breath and swung her leg over his waist to straddle him. His hands massaged her ass and thighs as she leaned down to kiss him again.
Their clothing just disappeared.
She took the moment to appreciate that. Something light hit her heart and she began to laugh, turning her head so it wasn’t in his face. When she looked back at him, he had such a wonderful smile.
For a moment, they could be home. They could be alive. They could be together. When they woke up, they would be confronted again by the grief, but for a moment, Jasper had given her a place to hide: her dreams. Something the real world couldn’t touch, and as long as he was there, they would be wonderful dreams, not horrific nightmares.
“I love you so much,” she murmured, kissing him again.
“I love you too,” he said between her possessive kissing. God, she wanted to own him and keep him close. She wanted to keep them all right by her side, so that they never got hurt, so they never were lost to her.
Sawyer ran her hands over his chest, enjoying that he wasn’t scarred. She had no problems with scars, on herself or anyone she loved, but she was glad he didn’t have them. She looked back and grinned. He had both his legs here. Perfect. He deserved to be perfect.
“Sawyer,” he moaned, wrapping a hand around the back of her head. She went back to kissing him as his other hand traveled down and he slid a finger into her, making her moan into his mouth.
They were suddenly in the middle of the bed and not on the edge. Dreams made this all so easy, she realized. As he fingered her, she nibbled and licked his neck, collarbone, and jaw, and every so often, she nipped his earlobe. Slowly, he built her up to a peak and she gasped at the soft finish she found, her muscles clenching on his fingers.
When it was over, he removed his fingers and grabbed her hips. She could feel him hard, ready to continue, ready to take it to the next step.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly, panting. She wanted it, but even in grief, she wasn’t going to take it there without knowing he was okay with it.
“I want this,” he whispered. “I wanted it the night this all started. And if people are going to be dying, I’m not waiting anymore.”
She swallowed back tears at that. Death had a way of changing one’s perspective.
She sank down on him slowly. “Let me,” she murmured, riding him as he panted and groaned underneath her. Every sound was perfection. Everything about him was wonderful and golden.
She would try not to let th
is leave a dark stain on his soul.
She leaned over to kiss him as she continued. He held her close, the kiss becoming desperate between them.
Soft cries, soft words, soft sweet nothings. Everything about this moment was exactly what it needed to be. She didn’t want rough or painful. Instead, she was glad that instead of the storm she knew was behind those eyes, she got calm waters.
Something peaceful and just for them, here in her dreams.
When her orgasm came like a wave, he followed her, groaning her name like a prayer.
She fell off of him and just curled tight into his side, feeling at peace for a moment.
“I love you,” he whispered again.
“I love you too,” she answered, feeling it to the very core of her being. “Thank you.”
33
Sawyer
The next day, Sawyer was getting ready for a trip she was dreading. She didn’t know why she agreed or wanted to do this. See Axel? She hadn’t since that day in the hanger bay, the last time he tried to kill her and it got him arrested. Finally.
“Are you sure you two want to do this?” Zander asked, yawning. He looked worried and fearful for her. Not physically. Nothing was going to happen to her. There was more danger to her heart and her mental health now, when the entire team was already fragile.
“He was behind this somehow,” she said, hoping that answered it. “I don’t know how, but he’s definitely had his hand in this. And because of that, James is dead - and I blame him. Do I want to go? No? Yes? But Vincent does, so I will.”
“I understand,” he said, wrapping a hand around her waist. “I’ve been in the room with an Axel and Vincent talk once. It’s not pleasant.”
“I didn’t think it would be.” She had a feeling it was going to really fucking suck. “And it’s not like we can arrest him again. I just want to look at him and…ask why.”
“I know.” He was so fucking understanding now. She wrapped her arms around him as well, and just held him for a moment. He rubbed her back. “If you need anything, though, call me. I’ll raise some fucking hell for you. I promise.”
“Oh, I know,” she retorted, smiling a little. “Going to try and save the world?”
“Fuck the world. I’m just going to save you all. You’re the only ones that fucking matter anymore.”
She kissed his cheek and walked out of the bedroom, Sombra following her. The jaguar did pause to rub on his legs until he gave her a scratch behind her ears.
“Keep her safe,” he whispered to the feline, who purred at the affection.
She walked out to find everyone, including Elijah in his wheelchair, eating breakfast. They were quiet, but she knew it was an improvement to the day before, where they would have all rather starved than anything else.
“Good morning.” She bent over to kiss the cowboy’s cheek. “How are you?”
“Been better,” he said, pushing his spoon around the cereal he had. Probably something that was easier for him to eat? Or maybe it was something none of them needed to cook. That made more sense. “A little mad at Zander, but I was too drugged to handle it yesterday. They’ve worn off and I refuse to take any now. I need to be…here. Present.” He tapped his temple.
“Okay. If you need anything-”
“Ask. I know, little lady. What I need right now is a kiss.” He gave her a weak smile. He was trying so hard to be himself. It broke her heart.
She gave him what he asked for.
“I have some news for you, if you want to hear it right now or later.” Vincent put down his newspaper. God, they were all trying so hard to be normal. She didn’t have the heart to tell Vincent that the newspaper was upside down. He had probably just been staring at it, hoping he could pretend.
“Now.” She sat down between Elijah and Jasper, who she sent a small smile to. He’d been in her bed when she woke up. Nothing happened physically, but it had been nice to find him there.
“Thompson called, with D’Angelo. The day…the day before James’ funeral, they plan on pardoning you. For your efforts here to save the WMC.”
She paused and she knew she should have felt happy. Some part of her did. Some part of her wanted to jump and cheer and cry.
It was a small, distant part.
“Why before his funeral?” she asked softly.
“Thompson thinks you should see him put to rest as the free woman he wanted you to be. I…agree with him. It’ll be in a few days. Everything is hectic for all of them, so it’ll take time for Thompson to nail the details of the funeral down. Dina is heading the issue of your pardon in the WMC.” Vincent gave her a small smile. “It also saves them from the political drama of us.”
“Congrats, love,” Quinn said, smiling up at her.
“Thank you,” she responded, swallowing on her emotion. It felt so anti-climactic and depressing. Oh, a friend of the team died. Pardon that one so they all stop being our problem.
What was she going to do? She grabbed a piece of toast, buttered it, and took a bite. Bland - and perfect for the moment.
A pardon. The pardon. The thing that meant she could walk away and live whatever life she wanted to live.
She didn’t know what she wanted after all of this. She looked up at Jasper. They had talked about the future before. Did he have any ideas?
“You don’t need to make any decisions about the future right now,” he said. “You don’t. After this, we can all go home. You can keep working for the IMPO until you make a decision. You can…stay in New York and live with Charlie again. You don’t need to have it all figured out right now, though.”
“I’m…going to be free,” she muttered to herself, a bubble of laughter hitting her chest after a moment. “Oh my god.”
“Yes. And if you want to keep this good mood, you should stay here.” Vincent was staring at her from across the table.
“Oh no,” she retorted, grinning. “I’m rubbing his fucking face in this.”
God, the idea felt so good. Even Vincent chuckled at her enthusiasm.
And damn, it was a good month for it.
They went alone, not even telling anyone except the team that they planned to. Vincent sent Thompson a text at the last moment before they got out of their car at the prison, letting him know.
“Do you think he’ll be upset?” Sawyer asked, leaning back in her seat, staring at the foreboding building in front of her.
“No. They asked me if I wanted to see him. It was a request from him after being hurt and being a model prisoner. As long as we don’t stir things up too much, no one will blink an eye.” He sighed. “Time to say goodbye.”
“For both of us,” she agreed.
“The timing is pretty perfect,” he said, getting out of the car. She followed and listened as he kept going. “You getting pardoned right after he had his hand in a scheme.”
“What do you think he got out of this?”
“A good time. Proof that he could cause trouble. There’s no evidence it was him, though. None at all. It’s why I haven’t taken it to Thompson. The only thing we can do is make sure to keep an eye on him to stop it from happening again.” Vincent shrugged. “He’s always liked testing his skills. He enjoys the mental work of playing people. He could have just been bored and wanted to see what would happen.”
She agreed with all of that. Daring the Triad to take on such a big thing, to prove they were the best compared to his own assassin. Convincing a Councilman that he could take power if he followed a plan. It was an Axel sort of game.
They were admitted without question and led to a small meeting room, with a single table. They were held outside of it while someone retrieved Axel from protected custody.
Protected custody. She snorted.
“Do you think…James would have been proud of us for this?” Vincent asked softly.
She felt that question hit her like a bullet.
“Yes.” She didn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be.
“I just…he would have stoo
d beside us here. It’s moments like this where…he should be here.”
“Maybe this is too soon after…”
“No. I need to do this now.” Vincent swallowed. “I never want to come back after this.”
They watched through a big window as he was led in and seated. He was handcuffed to the table. He had chains on his ankles. He had the inhibiting collar on his neck that stopped him from using his magic. He wore bright orange. Such a commercial prison color.
There had been a time when she thought she would be in that place. Chained and helpless, paying for her crimes.
She realized that she was paying for her crimes, but not in the ways she had always thought. She bled and fought for her crimes. She worked hard to put them behind her.
In the end, she and Axel were both prisoners in their own ways.
“Not for much longer,” she whispered to herself, her eyes locked on his face, now scarred. Whoever had jumped him had fucked him up. A scar cut over an eye and cheek. Another down his neck. Another over the opposite cheek. They had been healed well, but someone had decided that Axel Castello wasn’t allowed to be perfect anymore. “Did they catch who jumped him?”
“Yeah. They had stabbed him multiple times too.” Vincent groaned. “I have…complicated feelings about it.”
“He’s still your brother.” She couldn’t blame him in any way for feeling somewhat bad for Axel being brutalized in prison. It was cruel. She didn’t feel so bad, not really, but she wouldn’t hold it against Vincent.
“No. He was once my brother.”
She looked over his face. He said it with such confidence, such surety.
“And who are your brothers?”
“You should know. You love them.” He smiled at her. “Let’s do this. Then we can leave this behind, once and for all, like James always wanted for us.”
She liked that idea.
She followed him into the room and sat down next to him. Across from her, Axel’s eyebrows went up at the sight of her. Oh, he hadn’t been expecting her, not even a little.
The Redemption Saga Box Set Page 131