Mine to Save

by Diana Gardin

  The man who took Sayward, the one who hurt her and kept her from me, taking her away from her home and the people who fucking love her, might be dead. And there’s a huge sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing that. But this man?

  He should have protected her, not thrown her to the motherfucking devil himself.

  The dark circles under his eyes prove that Marcos doesn’t feel much better about himself than I do.

  I stalk toward him, not stopping until I’m right in his face. My breaths come sharp and fast as my hands ball into fists at my sides. Restraining, holding myself back.

  But barely.

  “Blacke,” warns Jacob. “Easy.”

  Marcos doesn’t break my stare. “I don’t deserve easy. I know that. What was I supposed to do?”

  I throw out a hand toward Jacob, and then jab a finger to my own chest. ”You should have asked for fucking help. You knew we were on your sister’s side, that we care about her. You should have known we’d do whatever it took to protect her.”

  Marcos’s eyes finally fall. The fight goes out of him, his body sagging against the wall. “Yes, but what about my family? My wife, my child? They had no one here to protect them.”

  I don’t know if we’ll ever come to terms with this. I don’t know if we’ll ever arrive at an answer that both of us can live with. He feels like he did what he had to. I feel like he made the wrong fucking decision. There had to have been a way that all innocent lives involved could have been protected.

  But we’ll never know for sure.

  I take a step back, hand running through my hair as I eye him with disgust. “She wants to see you. I think a big part of that is how fucking pure her heart is. But she also wants to meet her nephew.”

  He nods, eyes lifting. There’s hope there, and I can’t stand to look at it.

  “She’s sleeping now. Be here for her when she wakes up. Don’t fuck this up again. If you do, I swear to God I’ll take you out of the equation myself.”

  He holds my gaze for just a few seconds, understanding written all over his expression. Then he pulls out his cell phone and turns away. I’m guessing he’s calling his wife.

  When I turn toward Jacob, he’s standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He gives me one solemn nod, and there’s approval in his eyes I’ve never seen there before.

  “Do I still have a place with the team when we get home?” It’s the first time I’ve thought about it since this all went down. But it’s clear, from the way my heartbeat picks up, that the answer to this question matters.

  I want a spot on this team.

  Jacob’s expression doesn’t change. “Your spot on the team was never in question, Blaze.”

  I smile.

  It’s only been a day, but Sayward sitting up in bed when I walk into her hospital room is like the sun rising over the horizon after a long darkness. Her face breaks into a nervous smile when she sees it’s me.

  “I wasn’t sure where you were,” she admits, fiddling with the blanket situated over her lap.

  Pulling up the chair beside her bed, I drop into it and can’t resist the immediate need to touch her. I reach out and brush the hair back from her forehead, liking how her eyelids flutter at my touch. Seeing her looking healthy, except for the bandage marring her gorgeous head, does something to me. I want to take her home, to my house. I want to make it our house. I want to show her in a million different ways how important she is to me.

  I want to make all kinds of commitments I never thought I’d want to make again.

  “Sorry, beautiful. I just went to the hotel to shower and grab my stuff. They’re letting you go today. We’re headed back home.”

  She sighs out a huge puff of relief. “Thank God.”

  Then she’s quiet for a moment. “I want to make a stop on the way to the airport. I want to pay my last respects to my father at his home.”

  So strong. I nod.

  The hospital room door opens tentatively, and we both turn to look.

  Marcos stands there, holding a little boy in his arms. As he steps into the room, the boy peers curiously at Sayward. His deep, dark eyes study her and the room, all while his thumb stays securely put in his mouth.

  Marcos visited Sayward yesterday after she woke. It was a longer visit than I would have liked, but I said nothing. She allowed me to stay with her in the room the entire time, and I got to see how important rebuilding their relationship is to her.

  She needs her brother and his family in her life. And I need her in mine. It’s something I’m going to have to learn to live with.

  Eventually, I’m going to have to learn how to forgive him. Even though at this point, I don’t see how.

  “Sayward, meet your nephew, James Ricardo Diaz.”

  Sayward sits up straighter, her eyes shining in a way I’ve never seen before. I can feel my own chest filling up with some kind of unspoken emotion, something that’s showing me pictures of a life where Sayward looks at another baby boy like that. One running around with her hazel eyes and bronze skin, and my blond hair. The vision stops me cold, steals every ounce of breath from my lungs as I stare at her.

  Jesus. Waves of awareness slam into me, because I want this. I want it all, and I want it with her.

  I watch, like I’m in a trance, as Marcos puts the little boy down beside the bed.

  “You named him after Papi?” She breathes, staring at her nephew with a smile that wrecks me.

  Marcos nods, and nudges the little boy. “This is your auntie, niñito. Go and greet her.”

  “Hi, James.” She grabs a small container off the tray beside her. “You want to share my Jell-O?”

  The little boy’s eyes light up and he scrambles onto the bed as Sayward makes room. They sit side by side, spooning heaps of Jell-O into their mouths.

  She’s incredible. And she’s mine.

  I can’t wait to get her home.

  33

  Sayward

  One Week Later

  The bar door behind me opens and closes, and a cool draft brushes the back of my neck where I sit on my stool.

  Fall will slide into winter anytime now, and the temperature drops a little bit more every passing day.

  Bennett doesn’t make it to the bar every day after work, but he’s checked in three times this week. I think he feels like he needs to make up his sudden absence to Kandie, but every time he mentions it she rolls her eyes and waves a manicured hand.

  She nods her head toward the door now as I run my straw along the rim of my glass of sweet tea.

  “Your people are here,” she muses as she tosses one long braid behind her shoulder.

  Whirling, I grin as all my favorite people—minus one—stride into The Oakes.

  Dare’s wife, Berkeley, has an arm linked with her best friend and fiancée of Grisham, Greta. Their significant others walk behind them, laughing about something Jeremy said. He throws his head back and laughs from just behind them, sliding out a high-backed bar table chair for his wife, Rayne. She pats the seat next to her for her sister, Olive. Ronin slides up behind Olive, wrapping an arm around her shoulders from behind and placing a kiss on her neck. She leans back to look at him.

  Hopping down from my stool, I walk over to them and set my tea down on the table. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Dare swoops in and kisses my cheek before he leans right back out again, and I manage not to go all stiff and antisocial no matter how hard I want to.

  “It’s Friday night, and we could all use some time to chill out after the past few weeks.” Grisham leans back against the back of his chair and pulls Greta in just a little bit closer.

  This dynamic would have made me uncomfortable just a few weeks earlier. It would have been obvious just how much I didn’t fit in, and I probably would have declined an invitation to hang out with all the guys and their significant others.

  But now? Now I have Bennett.

  It’s amazing how much can change in the matter of a few
weeks.

  Rayne dips her head toward me. “Where is that man of yours, anyway?” She gives me a knowing smirk, letting me know she’d just read my mind.

  “He just went to grab something from the stockroom. He should be back any—” I’m cut off when Bennett’s voice lifts over the din of the bar.

  “I work with all you fuckers. Do I have to see you after hours, too?”

  And then I can feel him, without even turning. He slips up behind me, his presence heavy but not oppressive. It feels like the air around me has been lit with an electrical charge, like everything inside me is attuned to him. I lean back just as his chest presses against my back, and his voice rumbles in my ear.

  “Shit. I was planning on taking you home. Now we gotta hang out for a few.”

  I shrug, enjoying the feel of his body heat warming me from the inside out. “No, we don’t.”

  His chuckle, dark and rich, sends a shiver skating across my skin. “Bad girl.”

  My response is prompt and serious. “Only for you.”

  He groans, just as the bar door opens again. Jacob strides in, a beautiful, dark-haired woman on his arm. Her hair, thick and long, is streaked with a few strands of gray, but her eyes are sparkling with vibrancy. Otherwise, she looks just like her daughter, Greta.

  I can feel Bennett straighten, and I turn to look at him. I almost laugh at the shocked expression on his face.

  “Who the fuck is that?”

  “That,” I answer with a smile as I glance at Greta, “is Jacob’s wife, Laura. This is their second time around. Aren’t they cute?”

  It’s a rare event, Jacob joining us out for drinks. It seems like since we all returned from Colombia, he’s reluctant to let me out of his sight. I offer him a warm smile as he pulls out a chair at the table for Laura, and she reaches over and pats my hand.

  “It’s good to see you, Sayward.”

  I return her smile. “Thanks, Laura. You, too.”

  Dare pipes up. “Know how we have that rule, about the newest member of the team always buying the first round during their first year of employment?”

  Jeremy nods, deadpan. “Yep. Guess that’s you, Blaze.”

  Everyone looks at Bennett, who’s gone completely still. He glances around at everyone, waiting for the joke to settle.

  When no one speaks, and no one smiles, he lets out a curse.

  “This is bullshit!” He tosses over his shoulder as he heads for the bar, and that’s when the entire group loses their minds with laughter.

  “I want to show you something.” Bennett’s voice is quiet as he pulls me from my barstool an hour later. Curious, I give him a quizzical stare, but he just takes my hand.

  I follow him down the back hallway to his office, and he stops in the doorway to face me.

  His expression is more serious than I’ve seen it in awhile, and my heartbeat takes off in my chest. Staring up at him, I try to gauge whether or not I should be nervous.

  “What is it?” My voice trembles just slightly.

  “Close your eyes.” He runs his index finger along my jaw line, but his gaze holds mine.

  “Why?”

  Smirking, he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Humor me.”

  With a sigh, my eyes drift closed. Bennett takes both my hands and pulls me a few steps forward into the office. He turns me slightly.

  “Open.” He stands behind me, his hands rubbing up and down my arms.

  When I open my eyes, I find I’m staring at the wall where he told me Mickey used to hang maps and photos from the places he visited. I scan the wall, a small smile on my face.

  It seems like so long ago, the first time I was in here. It’s only been a few weeks, but everything seems drastically different now.

  My eyes scan over a photo I haven’t seen before and keep going, but then my heart slams to a stop. Slowly scanning the photo I’d almost missed, my breath catches in my throat and my hand flies to cover my mouth.

  “Bennett.” I whisper around my fingers.

  There’s a photo there that I’ve seen before, somewhere in my distant memories. It’s me as a little girl, long pigtails hanging down past my shoulders, wearing a pink sundress. I’m sitting on my papi’s lap, and we both have smiles on our faces as we look up at my laughing Mama. The backs of my eyes sting as I blink back the tears. I stare at the photo of a scene I’d completely forgotten, of a life I’ve lost but somehow rediscovered.

  I turn to face him, my heart squeezing and growing at the same time.

  Bennett’s thumb grazes my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t know had fallen. His eyes probe, reach, search mine and I can feel myself opening to him more than I ever have before. I can’t stop the tumbling of my heart.

  I can only hope he’ll reach out to catch hold of it.

  “How?” I whisper.

  “Marcos.” His answer is simple. “I told you that I wanted to add to this wall the first time you were in this office. I wanted to add a piece of you. I made a copy for you to have at home, too.”

  I throw myself into his arms, the need to get as close to him as possible setting a fire inside me.

  He kisses me back, his arms snaking around my waist and hands sliding down to grab my ass. Pulling me against him, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss.

  Kissing Bennett is something that I’m definitely used to, but something I’ll never get tired of. His lips draw out the raw emotions hiding inside me, and when he pulls back it’s always too soon.

  He stares down at me, bringing his hands up to cup my face. “I love you, Sayward.”

  My stomach flips. There’s nothing but honesty shining out of his eyes, pure and good and right.

  “If I tell you I love you, too, will you get me out of here?” A little breathless, I lean into him.

  His lips curve, his eyes going dark. “What do you want me to do when I get you out of here?”

  “I want you to take me home and fuck me until I can’t remember my name.”

  Blunt honesty, no finesse. That’s me.

  A growl rips from him and his strong arms tighten as he lifts me. My legs wrapping around his waist, I laugh softly and run my nose along the coarse, trim hair of his scruff.

  My fingers play in his hair, and he strides out of his office.

  “I’m taking you home.” His voice is sandpaper thin and rough and oh, so Bennett.

  Exactly the way I like it.

  “I love you.”

  34

  Bennett

  Kicking my front door shut behind me, I edge Sayward toward the bathroom. “Let’s go wash off the day.”

  I smirk, because there’s an ulterior motive there. Right now, I just want my woman hot and wet. I haven’t taken her in the shower yet, and tonight seems as good a time as any to check it off the list.

  Since we’ve been home from Colombia, I’ve been keeping Sayward close. I took her straight to her apartment and told her to pack her shit. After spending time with her safety being my number one priority, just dropping her off at her place felt so utterly wrong.

  She’d looked at me, an amused expression on her face. “My shit? How much of it?”

  I hadn’t even hesitated when I told her to pack all of it. This man I’ve become since Sayward turned my life upside down? I never thought I’d see him again, much less be glad he’s here. But I can’t go back…I can only move forward.

  And I want to move forward with Sayward.

  She glances back at me over her shoulder as she slips off her shoes and places them in a bin under the brand-new bench I bought to sit beside the front door. My lips tug into a smile as I watch her.

  But then I freeze. Because usually, my woman would go take off her clothes in the bedroom and put them away neatly in the space I’ve cleared for her in my dresser.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight, Sayward pulls her long-sleeved shirt over her head and drops it on the floor as she walks toward the bathroom.

  Slowly. Then she peek
s at me over her shoulder again, her plump bottom lip pulling between her teeth.

  Oh, fuck.

  Sayward’s trying to seduce me. And judging from the way my dick stirs to life at the sight of her backward glance, it’s working. Her lashes are lowered, her lids hooded as she reaches back to unclasp her bra.

  It falls to the floor, and she just steps around it. It’s like she’s dropping a trail of motherfucking bread crumbs straight to heaven.

  I’m rooted to the floor as miles of exposed, sienna skin tease me in my living room. Just outside the bathroom door, she pauses again, and her hands go to the button on her jeans. She unfastens it, the sound of a zipper being undone is like a lightning bolt through my own senses, shocking me into action. My jeans are too fucking tight, the material of my shirt irritates my skin. I need to be free of all these clothes, and my shirt is bunched up in my hands before I think about it.

  Sayward bends, sliding those skinny jeans down her curved thighs, leaning down to show me the simplicity of the white cotton panties she wears underneath. They might be simple, but they’re cut halfway up her ass cheeks, showing off the perfectly round apple of her bottom, and my hands itch to touch her.

  She disappears into the bathroom, leaving her jeans on the floor. I stare after her, my hand going to the button on my own fly. A tiny pair of white underwear flies out of the partially open bathroom door and the sound of the shower is music to my fucking ears.

  A striptease? If these are the kinds of little surprises Sayward’s gonna give me because I do something nice for her, sign me up.

  For a lifetime.

  She’s the kind of woman who, despite the predictability of her behaviors, will keep me guessing every single day. She’s never gonna be boring, not for a second. And that’s something I can’t wait to see day after day.

  I shed my clothes while I stride to the bathroom and inhale the steamy air as I step through the door.

  Making my way to the shower, Sayward’s form calls out to me from behind the frosted glass of the door. Her hands roam over that beautiful body, her hair a thick, heavy curtain around her shoulders.