The view was phenomenal. Almost like touching heaven.
And the ache in her heart? It wouldn’t go away.
Her hand lifted to her side. Her stitches were gone now. Everything about her past was supposed to be gone. If only it were easy to shove away the memories.
“Have you been crying again?” Saxon demanded, his voice sharp. He always got pissed when she cried.
Ah, Saxon. Friend. Protector…Annoyance.
“Because that dick isn’t worth your tears. Archer is a player, not someone you can count on.”
She had been crying. She cried those stupid tears every night when the lights were out.
A car’s engine rumbled in the distance. She looked out of the window and saw the flash of headlights pushing up the mountain toward them. Finally. “Victor’s coming.” He’d said that he would come for her when it was safe. She and Saxon hadn’t been the only ones to escape that blaze.
Of course, Maxwell had known how to get out. It had been his fire, after all.
The headlights came closer. They knew the driver was Victor—and not some lost tourist—because he’d called them moments before. They waited together as his pick-up pulled into the narrow drive.
Saxon headed out to meet Victor, but Jasmine stayed inside. Goosebumps were on her arms. This was it. Victor would tell her about the new life she was slated to begin.
The past was over. Gone.
Forget it…forget him.
Victor had a cast on when he came inside, but he didn’t let the cast slow him. He moved easily, fluidly, barely using his one crutch. When the door shut behind him and Saxon, Victor glanced her way and a wide smile curled his lips. “Hey, Jazz…love that new look.”
The shorter hair. The blonde hair.
He opened his arms and she hurried toward him, giving him a hug because Victor wasn’t just her FBI handler.
He was her friend.
He and Saxon were the closest things to family that she had.
She’d met Saxon first, when she was seventeen and so scared. Saxon had been on the streets, too. But he’d made his living fighting—brutal and hard bouts in boxing rings that shouldn’t have existed. No rules…just blood. Victor had been his opponent in one of those fights. They’d both wound up nearly broken, nearly dead in that battle. And Jasmine had been the one to patch them both up.
No one else had cared when the fight was over. Folks had collected their winnings and left the two broken warriors behind.
She’d stitched them both up. Taken care of them.
Over the years, they’d taken care of her, too.
Victor had gone into law enforcement. That move had stunned the hell out of her. And then Saxon…he’d followed the guy. Only while Victor played the straight and narrow, Saxon had sought the undercover missions. He’d wanted an up-close dose of danger and adrenaline.
He’d gotten those doses. With interest.
And…somehow…Jasmine had found herself following them. Working odd jobs for the government. Getting pulled into their web.
Until she’d been in so deep that there hadn’t been any chance of going back.
Victor hugged her so tightly that the breath nearly left her body. “You’ve got some serious explaining to do,” he growled the words against her ear. Victor’s body was rock hard against her.
He was a big guy. Strong and tough, and she’d once even had a crush on him. Back when she’d been eighteen.
Now…now all she could think about was Drake.
Victor eased away from her a bit. “You had a brother you never told us about?”
“What?” Saxon half-shouted.
Jasmine shook her head.
Victor curled his hand under her chin. “And before you even get the urge to lie, let me stop you. I heard it from Archer. When that building started blazing, the man went crazy. Told Noah York that they had to get you out…cause you were the guy’s sister.”
Saxon pulled her away from Victor. “Is that true? You’ve got a brother?”
This hurt so badly. “Jasmine Bennett had a brother. One that her mom put up for adoption. I’m not Jasmine. She’s dead, right? I heard she died in a New Orleans fire.” Her breath rushed out. “I’m Elizabeth. Elizabeth Farrow.” That was the name on the ID she’d been given by Saxon. New name. New life.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Victor asked her.
“Uh, you mean why didn’t she tell…us?” Saxon threw out. “Dammit, Jazz, you’re supposed to share shit like this!”
They acted as if it were easy. “You’ve spent the last five years undercover, Saxon. In and out of nightmares. And, you, Victor…you do things that I don’t…I don’t always even want to know about.” The monsters he hunted terrified her.
“Jazz…” Saxon began, his deep voice close to a growl.
“Elizabeth,” she correctly softly.
“Drop the BS,” Victor ordered her. Of the two men, Victor was the one usually snapping orders. Saxon was the one who usually went off and did whatever the hell he wanted. “Why didn’t you really tell us? If that guy was your brother, I would’ve—”
“Done everything to put us together.” Fine. She’d say the truth. They knew all her secrets, anyway. “I didn’t want him to know about me, all right? He had his own life. He didn’t need me and the tangled mess that I carry.”
Victor’s gaze held hers. “I like your mess.”
“So do I,” Saxon immediately added.
“Yes, well…” Dammit, she was getting teary again. “That’s behind me now. Elizabeth is a good girl—”
Saxon coughed.
“She’s a programmer. She has no criminal past. She doesn’t have killers chasing her—”
Victor glanced away. Oh, no.
“She doesn’t have killers chasing her,” Jasmine said again.
He sighed. “We haven’t found him yet. Maxwell’s gone to ground, and I don’t know how the hell he’s managing to avoid our agents.”
She backed away from him.
“We’re going to find him,” he rushed to reassure her. “It’s just a matter of time.”
Jasmine nodded even as fear twisted inside of her. She headed back toward the window. Stars were shining overhead. So many stars.
“But Maxwell Case isn’t our only problem,” Victor’s voice flowed behind her. “Drake Archer is proving to be difficult.”
“Like I didn’t see that one coming,” Saxon muttered.