by Dawn Ryder
Her words brought him up short. He hated them, his complexion darkening. She watched the desire to argue with her flicker in his eyes, but something else was there, the frank honesty that they’d shared under the stars and inside a concrete bunker. It was who he was and who she wanted to be—worthy enough to stand next to him.
“Call your boss back…” Ginger was on her feet, moving toward him as she caught Vitus turning away to give them privacy. It seemed such a long distance, and yet she was suddenly there, able to put her hands on him, unbearably conscious of the fact that it might be for the last time. “Let me face whatever life seems to think is my destiny.”
“Gin.” He grasped her hands, his grip too hard as he tried to get her to bend to his will. “There is nothing heroic about this. Carl Davis is out for himself, and he will trade your life as cheaply as he does his socks. I can keep you off grid.”
“And do what?” she opened her hands, breaking his grip only because he released her. She slid her hands along his pectoral muscles, soaking up the strength. “Live a shadow life? Separate you from the only thing that has been your identity? Your badge?”
“It’s a fucking piece of metal.”
She slowly shook her head. He reached out and cupped her nape, trying to still her argument.
“You’re more,” she said in a whisper.
“I can’t do it, Gin.” He pulled her closer, his frame shuddering.
“You have to, because I won’t give less than you do. I wouldn’t be worthy of you if I let you destroy yourself.”
She heard him draw in a deep breath, her words striking their mark.
“It would be worth it for you,” he said.
“Maybe in the short term.” She laid her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart, trying to brand it so deeply into her brain that she’d never forget it. “But in time, I’d know I fell short. Don’t ask me to live with something you wouldn’t. You’d never let me shield you by giving up everything I was.”
“Shit,” he grunted, threading his fingers through her hair and holding the threads as his embrace tightened. “I love you.” His voice broke. “I should have told you that … before … shouldn’t have argued with you.”
She wiggled free and lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze. “I’d have checked your forehead for fever. You thrive on trying to get me to adopt your way of thinking.”
One side of his mouth twitched up. “Only because you’re so damned cute when you bristle.”
He let her go, and it felt like the air temperature had dropped twenty degrees. She shivered as she watched him pull out his cell phone and push a button.
“Tomorrow. Send me the details.”
Saxon killed the call and reached for her. He closed his fingers around her wrist and tugged her along behind him. Ginger caught Vitus turning to investigate what they were doing but she didn’t care.
They were married after all.
And there was no way she was going to give up her last night with the man she loved.
* * *
Saxon found Vitus waiting for him in the morning. It wasn’t really sunrise yet, but Saxon tucked the bedding around Ginger and went to face the odds that were stacked up against him.
“She’s okay,” Vitus offered.
“She’s nursing delusions of glory,” Saxon bit out. “Tyler won’t let her live.”
“Seems I have something in common with Tyler Martin after all. I can’t seem to reconcile myself to letting him live.” Vitus answered.
Saxon cracked a half grin at his brother’s dry humor but it was only for a moment because he was focused on beating the odds. “Carl Davis will want to milk this for all the free publicity he can, which gives us some time to undermine him and snatch the victory flag.”
“She knows that,” Vitus stated. “That’s no dimwit you’re hitched to.”
From his brother, that was high praise.
“You didn’t do too well when the logical thing was to turn over the woman you loved.”
Vitus offered him a shrug. “I didn’t, but Damascus knew it was the only way to eliminate the threats to us completely.”
It was slim hope, which had never bothered either of them before.
Today, Saxon discovered himself feeling the bite more, the sting sharper, and for the first time, he was damned happy to be personally involved. How in the fuck had he lived life without actually being in touch with it? He shifted his attention to his brother.
“Let me take point. You have a wife now.”
Vitus eyed him over the rim of a coffee mug, through the steam rising from it. Saxon was no stranger to his brother’s assessment. Vitus took a long draw off the java before he lowered the mug and spoke. “Looks like you do, too.”
Saxon felt his confidence shift like sand beneath his feet. When it came to the odds of the mission, he was rock solid in his belief that he would persevere, but not with Ginger.
“I don’t have the right to assume she’d choose me when this is over.”
His brother drew in a stiff breath. “I recall that feeling, but I know what I saw on her face when she was looking at you.”
“First thing’s first,” Saxon said to cover his lapse in confidence. He couldn’t allow it to undermine his thought process. Not when Ginger’s life was on the line.
* * *
“I’m Kagan.”
Ginger considered the man and decided he looked exactly like someone who worked with Saxon should. In fact, she glanced down at his massive hand to see if he was wearing a Super Bowl ring.
He wasn’t.
But he did have on an undershirt, which drew her attention because people on the west coast didn’t wear them. The guy had just come from a colder climate.
“I don’t like this.”
Kagan offered Saxon a single nod before he opened the back door of a car and pointed Ginger toward the inside.
Saxon caught her wrist, pulling her back. For a moment, she caught the scent of his skin, felt the brush of his breath against her ear. “Remember.”
She looked up and locked gazes with him, her brain offering up a perfect recollection of the one thing he’d said that was branded into her mind.
“I will come for you…”
“Now, Ms. Boyce,” Kagan insisted.
She’d worried that it would be hard to get herself to move, but the truth was she was eager to go because it meant Saxon and his team were going to be out of the line of fire.
Like you know anything about Shadow opps …
Okay, maybe not, but she knew she couldn’t let them shield her when it would cost them everything. Sure, it sucked, on an epic scale, but life was often unfair so she was going to pull up her big girl panties and face the fact that fate had decided to grab her down in New Orleans. Maybe it was her fault for being so ungrateful for the vanilla life she’d had, her “just desserts” so to say. Life was deciding to show her what she’d been so foolish to whine about by taking it away and leaving her with the knowledge that she’d been in a mighty good situation after all.
Well, she didn’t regret it, not a bit. She looked at Saxon as the car pulled away. He was everything she’d ever dreamed a man could be. The word noble had true meaning now because she’d seen it embodied in him.
She felt like she was gathering up the memories, all the bits and pieces of their moments together, and putting them into a box where the winds of change couldn’t take them from her.
Because she knew for a fact she was heading into the worst of the storm.
But not alone. No, she had Saxon’s promise and that was all the shield she needed.
* * *
“There is only so much I’m going to be able to do.”
Marc Grog didn’t get told what he didn’t want to hear very often. His lawyer was sweating and lifted his arm up to wipe his forehead before the man sent him a hard look. “With an eyewitness to your activities in New Orleans—and the fact that you faked your death to avoid an official
investigation…”
“She hasn’t testified. Maybe she didn’t see anything…” Marc hissed.
It wasn’t the first time his lawyer had heard him offering to buy someone off, but today, the man looked less than confident in that being an option.
“A Federal agent heard you order him to kill her because she’d seen your face,” the lawyer continued. “It gave the Feds a link between you and the New Orleans underground. I don’t need to lecture you on how important it is to remain anonymous.”
“No shit,” Pulse said from his seat in the corner of the office. The lawyer flinched but didn’t back down.
“They have too much evidence. I’m surprised the judge allowed bail while knowing that you have a private jet at your disposal, but I suggest you use your free time wisely.”
The hint was clear to everyone in the room. Marc’s lawyer suddenly let out a sigh and stood up. “I’ll need some time to go over the charges before I can answer any more questions. A few days.” He gathered the sheets he’d spread out on the desk and put them into his leather case.
“Fuck.” Pulse said the moment the door shut behind the lawyer.
Marc held up a finger. His son shut his mouth and stayed quiet while Marc walked through the door and out into the afternoon sun. Pulse kept step with his father until they’d rounded a corner and ducked into a menswear shop. The owner instantly disappeared into the office to kill the video surveillance system.
Marc went to the dressing rooms and started to peel off his clothing. Pulse fell into step beside him as the owner of the shop appeared with new garments. They left looking like two locals, blending into the foot traffic on the sidewalk. The Feds might think they knew everything, but Marc had made sure to tuck enough cash away to see him through in the event of crisis. He stopped at an upscale wine-storage business and used his code to unlock a temperature-controlled vault. Withdrawing a bottle, he took it with him until he had a quiet place to smash it and withdraw the cash that had been stuffed inside. There was a key, too, one he took to another storage business and used to retrieve the guns he’d stockpiled.
Finally, he looked at his son. “No one steals from us. No one talks.”
Pulse nodded and grinned, showing off the two gold-capped teeth he had courtesy of boxing. “Dead mice don’t squeak. Davis is heading to Bakersfield. Just a quick hop to Mexico from there.”
Marc grinned. “You’re going to have to run the business in the States from now on. Together, we’ll build an empire.”
Pulse smiled with victory. With anyone else, Marc would have been pissed, but his boy had earned the moment.
* * *
“Fucking pricks!”
It was definitely time for profanity. Ginger didn’t much care that her nose darn near got caught in the door as it was being pulled shut. It was worth it to shout at the bastards who had been treating her like a cow for the last few hours.
She heard the door lock with a crunching sound that threatened to shatter her courage.
No.
She couldn’t lose it. Saxon sure as hell would keep it together.
That thought only made her long for him more, so she turned around, hating the way her paper gown rustled. The sound was a blunt reminder of just how helpless she was. The only thing in the room was a small container in the corner. Its intended use was obvious since there wasn’t a bathroom.
Pricks!
There wasn’t an inch of her body they hadn’t poked, looked into, or scanned. The two paper gowns she had on were her only garments as she started to shiver in the air-conditioned room. The lights suddenly flickered before going out, leaving her in the dark. Her heart accelerated, pissing her off even more because she knew they were trying to scare her.
So, she was going to refuse to crumble.
That’s right. She held tight to that thought, like a candle flame illuminating the blackness around her. It showed her Saxon’s face, where it was branded into her memory. Not the look that he’d had when she was taken from him. No, she recalled the moment when he’d been on his back, giggling like an adolescent on top of a sleeping bag in the middle of nowhere with no one watching them.
The memory calmed her heart. She sunk down with her back against the wall and hugged her knees as she cradled the memory, letting it take her into slumber because she had a feeling she was going to need all the strength she had.
* * *
“You’re pissed at me.”
Saxon turned slowly around to find Kagan and Vitus standing behind him.
“I’m reserving judgement until you explain your plan.”
Kagan cracked a rare smile. “You’re both good agents. I like that about the pair of you.”
“So what’s the plan?” Saxon pressed the issue.
“Carl Davis is planning to show her off tonight at the celebration gala.” Kagan laid the information down. “He’s taking credit for bringing the reign of the Raven to an end. The good people of the world can rejoice, be safe on the streets, and remember to vote for Davis.”
“So nice of him to provide such a public service,” Saxon growled. “How hard is it going to be to get into that gala?”
“Next to impossible now that Tyler has taken up post alongside his meal ticket,” Kagan said. “If we don’t have passes, we won’t make it past the gate. Davis is here to generate support through the voters. The guest list is exclusive to those with ties to old family, money, or votes.”
Saxon slowly grinned. It was mirrored on his brother’s face. Kagan looked between them as Bram Magnus raised an eyebrow. “What am I missing?”
Saxon snickered softly. “Mother-in-laws have uses after all.”
Kagan smiled and pointed at him. “You see it. I couldn’t refuse to turn Ginger over to Tyler, but I would have done it anyway because you need to draw Marc Grog out or you’ll spend the rest of your lives looking over your shoulders.”
“You’re using my wife as bait,” Saxon growled.
“Life gave her a nasty hand when she managed to walk into that party,” Kagan reminded him. “I’m taking the only chance I see at tying up all the loose ends while she still gets to live.”
“Fuck,” Saxon said.
“Tyler won’t let any of you live,” Kagan confirmed. “And Davis will shut down the Shadow opps teams the moment he’s sworn into office if I don’t play his game. I did. But what you two do, without my knowledge…”
Kagan’s hint was clear.
“Miranda Delacroix will get us dialed into her escort,” Vitus said.
“Marc Grog made bail,” Kagan informed them. “No one has seen him for twenty-four hours.”
“Then there isn’t any time to waste,” Saxon said.
It was do or die time and today, it was personal.
But that was working for him just fine.
* * *
Miranda was a well-established charity spokesperson. Her smile was pleasing and her hair perfect as the cameras flashed around her. She’d been born into political life and married into it, as well. She never missed a step when she caught sight of Saxon Hale hovering just beyond the range of the cameras. He made eye contact with her just once before he melted back into the masses who were gathered to attend the literacy rally.
Miranda read a children’s book and posed with youngsters on her lap for the next hour but her mind was on the Hale brothers, and of course her daughter, Damascus. She was giddy by the time she was able to break away, eager for news from her son-in-law because if Saxon Hale was there, his brother Vitus wouldn’t be far.
At least she hoped so.
Saxon might have come alone, and she’d see him, of course, because favors had to be repaid. However, in the case of her late husband’s death, she’d have gone to prison for pulling the trigger. There would have been some satisfaction in letting his friends know that she wasn’t the spineless creature they’d always applauded Jeb Ryland for wedding. However, she was rather grateful that Saxon had made sure she didn’t need to spend any time behi
nd bars.
Being free to share her daughter’s life was better. The private security force that always surrounded her took her back to the hotel she was staying at. They checked her room before she said good night and went through the door to take up post there.
She waited and wasn’t disappointed.
“Oh Vitus…” she whispered and lifted her hands to hug him. The burly ex-Seal didn’t take it too well but he suffered without complaint. She winked at Saxon from where he was watching from the bedroom doorway.
“I’m afraid this isn’t a social call, Ms. Ryland.”
Miranda winkled her nose with distaste. “Call me anything but that bastard’s name.” She stepped back from her son-in-law.
“Gladly,” Vitus offered.
“I knew you’d understand,” Miranda insisted. “I owe you a great deal. It will be my pleasure to assist you in any way possible.” Her tone made it clear she had a solid core lurking beneath the motherly public persona she presented when the cameras were around.
Saxon slowly smiled. “In that case, Carl Davis’s gala ball, do you have an invitation?”
Miranda fluttered her eyelashes. “I’d better. That man would be a fool to snub me publicly.” She moved over to a desk where her personal items were laid out. Selecting her cell phone, she swiped the screen and tapped in her passcode before maneuvering through her inbox.
“Yes. I do,” she confirmed. “It would have been amusing if it wasn’t there.”
“Except we need it,” Saxon said.
“Well then, I will let my assistant know I have decided to attend.” Miranda tapped in a message and sent it. “I normally take four in my personal escort.”
Saxon was nodding. Miranda watched him smile with satisfaction before she directed her attention toward Vitus. “Now, tell me something about my daughter. Anything at all. A happy moment.”
Vitus’s professional mask cracked at the mention of his wife. “She tested the smoke alarms last week. Making dinner.”
Miranda let out a peel of laughter that she smothered with her hands before the men at her door decided to investigate. “My poor baby is just like me.”