Mine to Save

by Diana Gardin

  “She’s the intended target. Help me surround her so I can get her inside.”

  Together with the officers and Marcos, we use our bodies to shield Sayward until she’s sitting at a table inside the restaurant, her skin paler than normal and her eyes wide with shock.

  I kneel beside her chair. “Baby, can you sit right here with Marcos for a minute, so I can tell the officers what just happened outside?”

  She blinks down at me, and then a fierce determination almost pushes the fear entirely out of her eyes.

  So damn brave.

  She nods, and I brush my thumb across her cheekbone before rising to my feet and striding toward the officers standing close to the front of the restaurant. I check over my shoulder to make sure I can still see Sayward. Having her out of my sight right now isn’t an option.

  A surge of protectiveness flares up inside me. It’s tied to Sayward, and a flashing light goes off in my head. Warning me. Threatening me.

  Reminding me that feelings like this don’t lead to anything good. Not for me. The last time I cared about a woman? That shit almost broke me. Blinded me. Drove me to a place where rage ran free, and I never want to go back there.

  Never again.

  But when Sayward’s big, gorgeous eyes lift to meet mine, I know there’s no way in hell I’m walking away from her.

  Quickly, I relay the events of the past few minutes to the officers, one of whom whips out a pen and a pad and jots down notes as I talk. When Jacob walks in the door, basically carrying a thundercloud above his head, his expression more than pissed, I prepare myself for him to unleash.

  “What the hell happened? Friend at the department let me know there was a situation and that one of my men was involved. Why didn’t you call me?” His words are ground between gritted teeth, his eyes scanning the restaurant until he finds Sayward sitting with Marcos.

  I put my hands on my hips and drop my head, taking a breath before I meet his gaze head-on. “We were eating lunch outside. Shots fired, I got Sayward on the ground. She’s not hit. I haven’t had a chance to call you, boss. This just happened in the last fifteen minutes. I had to get Sayward inside and situated, and I’ve just been explaining the events to the cops.”

  His expression loses a little of its venom. “Dammit! Was anyone outside hurt when shots were fired?”

  Shaking my head, I glance around us. “Don’t think so.”

  Jacob sighs, running a hand over his hair. “Thought she’d be safe, at least until we got to South America.”

  Nodding, I glance at Sayward, who’s watching us talk. “Yeah, I thought so, too. Looks like trouble found her here.”

  He curses again, and then gets on his cell. He barks out an order to whoever is on the other end of the line. I’m guessing it’s Abbott. “I’ll be back in the office with Sayward and Bennett in ten. Make sure you’re all ready to meet us in the conference room.”

  When he ends the call, he looks at me with a grim expression. “We need to figure out how to keep her safe until next week. If I had my way, I’d make damn sure she doesn’t go anywhere until whoever just tried to kill her is caught. But it’s not up to me. If she needs to pay her respects to her father, I won’t stop her.”

  “If I’d seen the shooter, I would have taken him out. And if I’d known those shots were coming, I would have thrown myself in front of her. You get that, right? But a fucking sniper? I wasn’t expecting that. What the hell’s going on?”

  Jacob shakes his head, cool determination gleaming in his dark blue eyes. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  “I’m still going.”

  Sayward’s tone is adamant, her expression stubborn as she glares around at every member of the team sitting at the table. “No one is going to stop me from going to the service for my father.”

  A vein pulses at Jacob’s temple, and I can feel my own blood pressure rising. Neither one of us wants her anywhere near fucking Colombia. But no one at the office knows how personal my stake is in it now.

  Jacob grits out: “I told you I wouldn’t stop you, Sayward. But these people are dangerous. You understand that, right? The cartel wants you dead.”

  She spreads her arms wide as her eyes narrow. “Then let them try. I have all of you looking out for me. And they’re here. Apparently it doesn’t matter if I go to Colombia or not. They’ve already found me.”

  After seeing Marcos into a car headed back to his hotel, Sayward and I had a quiet ride over to the NES building in my truck. She’d stared out the window, her teeth digging into her bottom lip while I drove. I knew there wasn’t anything I could say that would get through to her then, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit here silently now.

  “Yeah, how do we think that happened? She’s been hidden here for years, right?” Sayward’s gaze snaps to mine. I soften my tone, knowing this isn’t going to be easy for her to hear. “What’s changed in the past few days?”

  The room goes silent, the air thick and heavy with the implication I just laid out there. But knowing the guys on this team, I’m not the only one who’s thought of it.

  Finally, Jacob speaks. He keeps his gaze leveled at Sayward as he does. “Marcos.”

  Her chair scraping on the polished concrete floor, Sayward stands. Her palms slam down on the table, and her hazel eyes flash with barely restrained anger. This side of Sayward? I’ve never seen it. Usually her emotions are in check; she’s reserved and focused on whatever she’s working on.

  But right now, her voice rises as her anger swirls around her. Around all of us. My chest clenches tight with her pain.

  “You think Marcos brought them here? He’s my brother!”

  She slaps her hands down once more for emphasis and levels her glare straight at me.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.

  I face her, because it doesn’t matter if she’s pissed. I’ll take her pissed and raise her a “madder than hell.” I place my palms on the table and lean forward as I stand. Matching her on every level. My emotions roil and churn, and I swallow hard before I speak.

  “Marcos is your brother, yes. But you haven’t seen him in years, right? Sayward…you have no idea what he’s been doing in that time. Hell, he could be a member of the cartel by now!”

  She sucks in a breath, her chest rising and falling as she flinches, like I’ve slapped her. We stare one another down, the tension in the room pulling taut between us like a rope about to snap into pieces. Finally, Conners clears his throat.

  “You know what? If Marcos has had a hand in this, that’s something we can figure out. What we need to do right now is find out how we’re going to keep Sayward safe until all this shit is handled.”

  I stiffen, my eyes cutting toward Conners. “I will keep her safe. That’s not a question.”

  The ex-Ranger’s brows lift as he stares me down. “Like you did today?”

  A growl rumbles inside my chest, deep and sharp and dangerous. Because I’ll be damned if he’s gonna question my desire or my ability to keep Sayward secure.

  Abbott places a hand on Dare’s chest, giving him a warning glance before turning my way. “She can’t go back to her apartment. They probably know exactly where she lives.”

  I remember what it felt like when I stepped onto Sayward’s back patio yesterday. I knew there were eyes out there. I should have listened to my instincts, shouldn’t have let it go.

  “She can come home with me.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and when I register what I said, I don’t even care.

  Whatever it takes. As long as Sayward is out of the line of fire I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

  Jeremy grins, a knowing expression turning his mouth up while Conners frowns and Abbott studies me. Ronin’s eyes are on me, too. And I can feel Jacob’s stare, just as sure as if it were burning a hole into my shirt.

  “You sure about that?” asks Ronin, his lip twitching at the corner. “I’ve never even seen your place.”
/>   That’s because it’s a shoe-box-size, one-bedroom beach bungalow. It’s all I could afford after I moved here and started working at the bar. The rent is cheap because if there’s a job to be done around the house I do it myself, and it’s way too small for guests. Up until this very minute I never had any intention of having someone over.

  “I’m sure.”

  When I look at Sayward, her eyes blaze with something I can’t read. But I recognize it because I saw the exact same look in her eyes last night while I hovered above her.

  “You don’t have to do that.” The words fall off her lips like something broken. And it has my spine straightening, my jaw tightening.

  “I will keep you safe. You’re coming home with me. And that’s where you’ll stay until we go to Colombia.”

  And I realize I mean every fucking word.

  Which means I’m in more danger than the drug cartel could possibly bring into my own backyard. This is a matter of the heart, and that’s so much more deadly where I’m concerned.

  16

  Sayward

  The entire team agreed it wouldn’t be smart to go back to my place at all. So Bennett drives me to Target when we leave NES and I prepare myself to engage in the one activity I hate more than anything else in the entire world.

  Shopping.

  We walk in the doors and Bennett veers toward a shopping cart. “Guessing you’ll need one of these.”

  I just stop, frozen in the bright, shining front lobby. Because I’m watching Bennett Blacke, tattoos and scruff and oozing sex appeal pull a red plastic shopping cart from the queue.

  When he catches me staring, I force my mouth closed and make a beeline for the women’s clothing section.

  Without a word, and definitely without trying anything on, I grab two hoodies, two V-neck T-shirts, and two pairs of jeans. Tossing them in the cart, I turn toward Bennett.

  “I’m ready to grab pajamas and toiletries.”

  He leans onto the front of the cart, his face creasing into lines of pure amusement. Leaning on his elbows, he doesn’t budge.

  “Hey, Sayward?”

  “What?” I frown, glancing around because maybe I forgot something.

  “I’m gonna call the Guinness book people.” He pulls out his phone and proceeds to look something up.

  Confusion pulls me closer to him. And a prickle of irritation deepens my frown. “What?”

  He doesn’t look up, his thick finger scrolling along his screen. “You know…because I think you just set the record for ‘fastest female shopper.’”

  Realization that he’s teasing me dawns, my mouth pulling into a smile before I can stop it. Then I slap his arm.

  Hard.

  He laughs, but rubs the spot like he’s trying to humor me.

  Asshole.

  “Asshole!”

  His full, full lips stretch over straight white teeth as he smirks. Then he pulls me into his side.

  Dipping his head toward my ear, his whisper drags a shiver down my back. “You like it.”

  Shopping has never been fun, but it’s almost enjoyable when I’m with Bennett. It’s not lost on me, though, alert as he is, that he’s also hypervigilant. His eyes miss nothing as they scan the aisles, his body is taut and coiled. Ready to spring. He moves like he’s full of pent-up energy that he’d be only too happy to use if necessary.

  Thanks to my shopping skills, or lack thereof, I’m done in under twenty minutes, and as Bennett walks me to his truck, he keeps one hand on the shopping cart while the other arm rests on my shoulders.

  And I don’t realize until afterward that I never once wished he wasn’t touching me.

  I don’t know what I expected. I never really thought about where Bennett rests his head at night. Every time I think of him, I think of him at The Oakes. Like he permanently resides behind a bar. Seeing him all up in my space at NES definitely messed with my head, but now? This? Seeing him in his own space, with his own things?

  It’s blowing my mind, sending me into a tailspin of wonderings.

  Bennett lives in a one-bedroom bungalow across the street from the ocean. I know that it not being backed up to sand, not to mention it size, make it more affordable. Looking around, I can see the place isn’t completely updated, either. The style could be considered rustic, with worn furnishings and older fixtures. But the first thing that shoots through me when I walk in the door is a sense of peace. A feeling of contentment.

  A sense of home.

  Pausing just inside the threshold, I try to remember the last time I felt this way. My legs tremble, my mind spinning and whirling as I try to catch up to the emotion slamming into me. A sigh escapes as I try to gain control over my feelings, find my footing in unfamiliar waters.

  Noticing my hesitation, Bennett turns back to face me, one eyebrow lifted. “You good?”

  Sucking in a deep lungful of air, I move forward, away from the door at my back. Bennett stretches to close it behind me, his warmth trickling over me as he stands close.

  Suddenly, I’m crawling with nerves. I try to slam my mind shut against them, try to keep them out and hold them back but it’s no use. I remember all the ways Bennett and I were close last night, all the ways he touched me, how he made me feel, and I can’t beat back the fluttery wings of the butterflies inhabiting my stomach if I tried.

  Arms laden with my bags, he places them down on the couch and cocks his head to the side as he studies me. “So, this is it. Casa de Blacke.”

  My lips quirk upward at his fake Spanish accent, my heart forgetting for just a second how out of place I feel, before I turn curious eyes on his home. My heart takes flight, beating faster in my chest because…this place.

  White bead board walls cover three sides, while the last wall, the one facing the ocean, is nothing but windows. And one large sliding glass door. Glancing up, I note the natural wood ceiling, vaulted in the center, the thick beams stretching from one end of the little house to the other. The same natural wood color covers the floor, wide planks shining faintly up at me all around the room. There’s a navy-blue couch with two small metal tables in front of it and a ladder leading up. When I stand at the bottom, I can peer up and see a tiny loft space above.

  When the big sliders are open, I can only imagine the ocean breeze that’ll sweep right through the entire area. I can see straight through to the kitchen, all open shelving and one long stainless peninsula lined with two barstools.

  This place.

  “It’s…it’s perfect, Bennett.” When I glance at him, his eyebrows pull together and his lips pull into a pleased grin.

  “Yeah? You like it?”

  Shaking my head with vehemence, I disagree. “No. I love it.”

  It’s only the truth, but Bennett chuckles. His eyes flare with warmth as he glances around. “Thanks. It was a run-down dump when I bought it. That’s the only reason I could afford it. Had to put most of the work in myself, but Mickey helped out some.”

  I gesture around the space, disbelief coloring my tone. “You did this? Yourself?”

  He shrugs. “My father was good with his hands, and we used to do projects together around the house when he wasn’t deployed.”

  I frown. “But your best subject in school must have been chemistry. The way you work with explosives…it’s innate and intuitive. You’re a natural when it comes to things like that, too.”

  He studies me from across the room, the same way I’m studying him. Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of how all-encompassing he is. The way he stands, like he commands everything around him, even when he’s completely relaxed. The way his eyes focus so intently, like he sees more than most people in any situation. The way his lips tug into a charming smirk at will, like he knows exactly how to make a person sell their soul.

  I have no doubt about the last one, and the thought leaves me breathless.

  Weariness and wariness start to creep into my bones. The entire day’s events start to play back like a movie, and I squeeze my eyes shut to fight again
st the images. The thoughts. The fears.

  They don’t know my brother. Family, blood, is a bond that can never be broken. There’s no way Marcos had anything to do with the cartel’s attempt on my life.

  If Marcos is guilty of anything at all, it’s leading the cartel to my doorstep. But that’s something he did without knowing it.

  I press my hands to my head, trying to keep the chaos at bay. My hands tremble against my skin.

  Then Bennett is there, his strong, hard body pressing against mine as his big hands wrap around my wrists to pull them away from my face.

  “Shhh, beautiful…it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His voice is soft but rough, soothing but stimulating, existing in the space between what makes sense and what doesn’t.

  I heave a deep, calming breath. But it’s like the air doesn’t ever reach my lungs. It’s not enough. I try again, and it seems like I’m taking in less air than the last breath. “I can’t…”

  Panic engulfs me like a field of flames, licking at my senses and crippling my limbs.

  Bennett’s arms circle around me, dragging me against him as he pulls me onto the couch. He forms a solid place for me to land, cradling me to his chest and stroking my hair. One hand lands on my cheek, forcing me to look up into the endless depth of his eyes.

  “Look at me, baby. You need to focus on breathing, okay? One breath at a time. Ready?”

  I nod, eyes wide, still gasping in shallow breaths.

  “Here we go, Sayward. In…” Bennett’s tone is commanding, firm. I have no choice but to follow his directions.

  I breathe in, and just the tiniest bit of air travels into my lungs. But it feels like the first sip of water after a trip across the desert.

  “Good girl. Now let it out. Now breathe in again.”

  His voice, soft and safe, leading me away from the dark and into the light. I’ve had a panic attacks before, but I’ll never get used to the ache in my chest that comes with them. Bennett rests his forehead against mine, his breaths mixing with my own.