“Good. You rest here. Try to get some sleep.”
The floor creaked. She looked back and saw that he’d moved toward the doorway. Uh, oh. “Saxon?”
“I’ll check in with Victor and be back before you can even miss me.”
Doubtful. “Saxon—”
“And I’m sorry about Wesley Locke. Never in a million years would I have wanted you to watch him die.”
Her breath caught.
And he—was gone. He’d just shut the door. Locked it, and by the time she got the door unlocked and open, he was already back in the truck. ”Saxon!” He was really just dumping her there? After that kiss? After that whole wanting-her-more-than-breath thing?
Leaving?
Her jaw dropped.
His tail-lights vanished.
Yes, he’d dumped her.
The chirps grew even louder. Elizabeth hurriedly shut the door.
So much for needing her more than breath. That guy really needed to work on his seduction technique. ‘Cause abandoning a girl in the middle of snake central? So not sexy. So not.
I’m sorry about Wesley Locke.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and wondered just what the hell she was supposed to do now.
***
Since he knew this particular area so well, Saxon knew the exact spot where he’d start getting cell service again. He’d been working the undercover assignment in Miami for the last few months, and he’d been escaping to his cabin whenever he could.
On the days when I have to escape so I can try to remember who the hell I really am.
He yanked out his burner phone, and he called Victor. The phone rang, and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. The damn truck actually smelled like Elizabeth now. She didn’t just smell like honey, she tasted like that sweetness. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that he could just eat her up and—
“Agent Monroe,” Victor snapped.
Victor was always snapping. The guy needed to learn how to relax the hell up. Maybe once Saxon was out of the business, he’d help his friend. “She’s in a safe spot.”
Silence. “You’re on a burner.”
Obviously. What might not be so obvious to Vic… “I’m not liking this whole setup, Vic. I mean, we were found at the motel. And now both Taggert and Locke are dead? By the same killer’s hand?”
“We don’t know yet if it was the same—”
“Aw, man, it’s me. Don’t feed me that line of crap. You and I both know we have to be looking at the same killer. What I don’t understand is…why? Why is someone so determined to get Elizabeth?”
When he thought of Taggert, fury pumped through him. He’d lost months of his life so that bastard could be brought in and turned against his clients. Taggert was supposed to be pressured into rolling on all the people who’d hired him over the years. This case should have resulted in a massive takedown.
And now—now he had no clue what was happening.
When Victor didn’t respond, Saxon said, “You need to get an APB out on Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav. I want those bastards out of the game and locked in a cell, understand?” Maybe those goons could tell them who’d originally hired—then killed—their boss. Victor thought of just how close those men had come to getting Elizabeth. “I can’t promise you I’ll let those bastards live if they come after her again.”
Silence. Victor would know that Saxon wasn’t bullshitting. His days of playing by the FBI’s rules were over.
“I’ll find them,” Victor promised. “Hell, once they get word that their boss is dead, you know they’ll panic, anyway. No doubt they’ll cut and try to run from the city, but my team will stop them.”
“You’d better.” Or he’d be stopping them.
“Where are you now?” Victor demanded.
Saxon hesitated. Normally, he told Victor everything. The guy was closer to him than any brother could ever be. After the shit they’d survived together, they’d formed a bond that Saxon had never expected. Only…
Elizabeth’s life is on the line. “I’ve got her someplace safe.” Like he’d said before.
“Saxon?” There was surprise in Victor’s voice. But Victor shouldn’t be surprised. Saxon was using a burner phone for a reason.
I’m not sure who I can trust. Because maybe someone had tipped Taggert off about Jenny’s true identity. And maybe that same someone had led Taggert’s men to the motel. “Did your team know that I had Elizabeth at the motel?”
“Well, yes, but—”
That was all he needed to hear.
Victor’s long sigh carried over the phone. “I get it. You still think someone from my team could be selling us out?”
Because, yeah, after Jenny’s death, Saxon had brought up this suspicion to Victor. By nature, he was just a suspicious bastard.
Victor’s voice dropped to a low, lethal whisper. “I told you, I checked everyone—”
“And I told you…I don’t trust one hundred percent—not anyone but you.” Because he knew that money could buy nearly anyone’s loyalty.
“You won’t tell me where Elizabeth is,” Victor fired back. “So how the fuck do you trust me? You know I would never turn on you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
Right. Shit. This was Vic. His family.“I’ll tell you, but you don’t tell anyone else. Not even Gary and Tracy.”
“Not anyone else,” Victor agreed grimly.
Saxon stared out at the swamp around him. “I’ve got her in my cabin.” Vic was the only other person who knew the location of the place. If I can’t trust him, then I truly can’t trust anyone.
“I’ll round up Taggert’s crew. We’ll put pressure on them, and they’ll roll on the person who took out the hit on your girl.”
“Elizabeth isn’t mine.” He might want her, but she wasn’t…his.
“Keep her safe, and I’ll check in with you in six hours.”
Saxon glanced down at his phone, noting the time. He’d never missed a check-in with Victor. When you were undercover, check-ins were necessary for survival. Before he ended the call, he had to say, “Kurt Taggert was one cold-blooded SOB. So was Locke. Who the hell do you think got close enough to gut them with a knife?”
“I’m going to find out,” Victor said, “but, right now, my money’s already on the perp being an unhappy client of Taggert’s.”
And the client who would be the most pissed off right then? That would be the guy who’d paid to have a woman killed…only that woman had rode off into the night on the back of Saxon’s motorcycle.
I-I knew who she…was…Locke’s words replayed through his head once more. Those words didn’t make sense, but often the words of a man nearly dying were nothing more than nonsense.
“Six hours,” Saxon said. “Now I’ve got to go. The woman doesn’t like being alone with snakes.”
“What? She doesn’t like—”
He hung up on Victor and turned the truck back around. Elizabeth was waiting.
***
Victor shoved his phone into his pocket and turned to walk inside Locke’s condo once more. The crime scene techs were running around, working their mojo, and they were already analyzing the blood spatter. The body was still on the floor, and the place was starting to smell.
So much time and energy wasted. The whole goal had been to bring Kurt Taggert in alive. He could’ve turned on so many powerful men and women in the area. Now he was gone. He was dead and Wesley Locke had been sent to the morgue.
Which one died first? Had the killer attacked Locke, left him to die, then went to kill Taggert? Or had the guy hauled ass over to the condo once he’d taken care of Taggert?
“Uh, Victor? I checked the security footage.”
He turned to face Gary.
But one look at the guy’s face, and he knew the news wasn’t good.
“Someone sabotaged the feed.”
Of course.
“But I can tell you…” Gary added quickly, “that based on when the feed stopped, I think our guy came after Locke first. Because the feed stopped around the same time that Saxon was rescuing Ms. Ward from The Blade.”
And Taggert had definitely been alive then.
“Put an APB out right now for Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav,” he demanded. “Those bastards went after Ms. Ward at the Moontree Motel.”