Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

H er first moment of awareness was the feel of a large, warm hand holding hers. Jazz blinked sleepily and then smiled at the sight before her. Xavier sat in the chair beside the bed. He looked like he’d been there awhile. He was slightly slumped over, his eyes were closed, and he was softly snoring. His beard was more straggly than usual, his face was pale, and the shadows beneath his eyes were a testament to his worry and loss of sleep.

Those beautiful eyes blinked open, and when he looked at her, she felt as if her whole world had been set right again.

“Hey, you,” he said gruffly.

“Are you okay?”

Confusion flickered across his face. “I think that’s what I should be asking you.”

“You look…” She’d never been one for diplomacy, often speaking bluntly. This was no exception. “You look like hell.”

“That’s what happens when the most important person in your life disappears.”

Everything within Jazz stilled. Seeing her brother again, realizing he was a killer, being abducted, tortured, and starved… None of those things had brought her to tears. But Xavier admitting how he felt about her brought up a well of emotion she could not quell.

Saying her name softly, Xavier surged up from his chair and gathered her gently in his arms. Burying her face against his chest, Jazz finally let go of the fear and outrage that had consumed her for the last two weeks. She was here, with Xavier. This man—this honorable, courageous, wonderful man—meant the world to her. All that she had suffered and endured was smothered by the comfort of his arms.

“I was so worried about you, baby,” Xavier whispered against her hair.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for. What those bastards did to you was not your fault.”

Maybe not, but if she had just been honest and forthright with him, none of this likely would have happened. Even though she still didn’t know why she’d been taken, she knew she’d put herself in a vulnerable position, and that was on her.

“I kept praying that you would find me.”

Neither of them mentioned how much easier it would have been to find her if she hadn’t removed her tracker. She knew that explanation would have to be given soon.

He held her a while longer, letting her cling to him as long as she needed. For most of her adult life, Jazz had hidden her deepest emotions behind a facade of bravado. It was how she’d learned to cope with all the emotional pain she’d endured. With Xavier, that never seemed necessary. It was as if he had an insight into her mind that defied basic physics. Xavier saw her —not who she pretended to be.

“Think you can talk about it?” he asked gently.

Jazz drew in a breath, inhaling bergamot and ginger, two fragrances she associated with Xavier, and then nodded. “I think so.”

Drawing away from her, he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and then a quick, but firmer kiss on her mouth. When he pulled away, a slight, satisfied smile curved his lips.

“What?” she asked.

“Kissing you could become my favorite pastime.”

Feeling suddenly shy, she said softly, “Mine, too.”

Gifting her with one more quick kiss, Xavier settled her back against the pillows and returned to his chair. He picked up her hand again. “Ready?”

She nodded. She had told Serena, Eve, and Gideon a little when she’d first woken, but she had been so out of it, she didn’t really remember if she’d told them anything useful. Today was the first day she felt clear-minded enough to give significant details.

“I don’t know who took me.”

“Start from the beginning.”

She wiggled slightly in the bed to find the most comfortable spot. The doctor had told her the day before that her wounds were healing nicely, and though she felt much better than she had two days ago, there were still twinges of pain.

Apparently seeing her wince, Xavier said, “Want some pain meds?”

“No. Maybe later. I want to be awake enough to give you everything I can.”

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Settling deeper into the bed, she began to describe her ordeal. “It was late…maybe around one in the morning. I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d find a diner and get something to eat. I opened the door, and four men attacked me. I got in a few good hits, but they overpowered me. I woke up in a bedroom.”

She closed her eyes and described the room in detail. She knew most of what she said was unimportant, but she’d learned that detailing as much as possible often brought to mind items she might have missed otherwise.

“I was sick…nauseated and had a horrific headache. I had a knot on the back of my head and thought it was likely a concussion. I later learned I’d been drugged, too. I don’t know what with.”

Xavier squeezed her hand. “The doctors ran a blood panel. Since you were given the drug so long ago, there’s no evidence left in your blood. They didn’t see any anomalies, though, and don’t believe there’ll be any lasting effects.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“This older man came in. In his late fifties or early sixties, iron-gray hair, a little thin on top. Light brown eyes, pale complexion. About five eleven, on the slender side, maybe about a hundred fifty pounds. Sophisticated clothes, cultured voice. Looked like he came from money.

“He didn’t introduce himself and apologized for how I’d been banged up. Made two of the guys who’d taken me apologize. Said the other two had been disciplined.”

“They were,” Xavier said abruptly. “Their bodies were found in Seattle at a dump site. We figured they were local hires.”

She didn’t question how he’d known who they were. She’d get the details later but figured that Serena had likely worked her magic.

“What did the man say to you? Did he tell you what he wanted?”

“Not really. He started out by wanting to know why I was going by another name. Where I’d gotten my weapons and self-defense training. When I was taken, I only had my fake ID with me, a burner phone—which had nothing on it—plus my gun and knife.”

She gasped as a thought suddenly hit her. “Oh no. The safe in my motel room. It’s got?—”

Xavier shook his head. “Already taken care of. We got everything—your OZ phone, your other weapons, and the tracker you were supposed to place on Bass.”

She grimaced. “Sorry, I should have returned that before I took off.”

Again, there was no mention of the reason for that, and she wasn’t about to bring it up now.

“Also, I have this.”

Pulling something from his pocket, he placed it on her palm he’d been holding. She looked down to see the chain and the locket that held the only photo she had of her family. Emotions swamped her, and it was all she could do not to give in and cry again. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she said huskily, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Knowing she needed to continue, she said, “I didn’t tell him anything…actually didn’t speak, figuring the less I said, the more he might reveal. He didn’t appreciate my silence. Told me he’d give me a few days to recover, and then he’d come back for another conversation. Right before he left, he called me Jasmine and then asked if I still went by Jazz.”

“So he knew exactly who you are.”

“Yeah.”

“And then what happened?”

“Nothing for about three days. I was sick—really kind of out of it. Nausea and major headache. Food and water appeared three times a day. Usually delivered by a woman who wouldn’t speak to me. On the third day, I finally felt halfway human and was able to eat a full meal for the first time. I took a shower and dressed in my clothes. The instant I was dressed, the man showed up again.”

“He had cameras in the room.”

She shrugged. “That was my guess, but I never saw them.”

“What happened when he came back?”

“I went on the offensive—demanded to know who he was, why I had been taken. He didn’t appreciate my attitude. Told me he was in charge. Started drilling me about my weapons, my training, and why I was using an alias. He called his goons back in. I ended up slugging him and running out of the room. The place—wherever I was—was quite large. I ran down a hallway and spotted a stairway. Before I could get to it, I was tased. I went down. And then I woke up in the kennel.”

The flare of anger in his eyes told her exactly how he felt about that.

“I was told until I answered his questions honestly, I wouldn’t be released. Every few days, one of the men would drop off a burger, fries, milkshake, and small bottle of water.”

She didn’t bother to tell him about the heat, the powerful thunderstorms, or the desolation she’d felt. This was a fact-finding interrogation, not a pity party.

“Around the fifth day, I decided to change strategies. When the burger guy arrived, I told him I was ready to talk. I pretended to break down and cry. He recorded me, took some photos. I didn’t think my act worked, because the jerk basically told me it was a good start and then left.

“A few days later, the two men who’d taken me showed up with buckets of water. They said they were going to clean me up and take me back. Maybe I should have waited and let them take me back to him so I could get some intel, but I’d had enough. The minute I could, I attacked.”

“You did the right thing.”

She was happy to hear he agreed. It had felt good to be able to take back control. “I disabled and disarmed one guy. The other guy got to me before I could get away. He shot at me, and I turned around and killed him. I ended up killing both of them. Then I grabbed his phone and called you. I don’t remember much after that.”

“There was only one dead man.”

Jazz shook her head. She had been weak and out of it, but she knew for a fact that she’d shot two men. “I shot one man in the head and the other in the chest.”

“We found the one with the head shot. The other one apparently managed to get himself out of there. There was no vehicle there and no phone on you. So he must’ve taken it from you and left.”

Before she could say anything else, Xavier said, “I’ll get Serena to check with local hospitals to see if a gunshot victim has shown up in the last couple days.”

Jazz nodded. Wherever the man was, he would either be dead or in severe pain if he hadn’t gotten medical treatment. She couldn’t feel the least bit of sympathy for him.

“Any identity on the dead man in the kennel?” she asked.

“Yeah. His name was Kip Warring. Small-time criminal. No known association with any particular group. We’re still digging, though.”

“Finding the man who took me is going to be difficult, isn’t it?”

Xavier wanted to say no, that they’d be able to find him quickly and mete out justice for her. But she was smart enough to know that wasn’t the case. Without having any real idea why she had been taken, they were still dealing with a large pool of suspects.

Hearing Jazz talk so dispassionately about her ordeal only reinforced his belief that she was one of the strongest people he’d ever known. She had stuck to the facts, which meant she hadn’t mentioned how alone and terrified she must have been. The starvation and lack of water alone would have broken most people. But Jazz had had to fight for her life multiple times, and she had always come out on top.

He hadn’t asked her why she had stayed in the city or the reasons she was investigating Bass’s murder on her own. Now was not the time. Their priority was uncovering the identity of the scumbag responsible for hurting her. That meant getting as much intel as possible. There would be plenty of time for other questions later.

“Serena will be here in a few minutes to get your description of the man. He sounds like he knew what he was doing, which means hopefully he’s got a record. If so, we’ll use facial identification to find him.”

“It’s definitely a face I won’t soon forget.”

“There’s something you need to know.” He had specifically requested the team not mention what had happened to Hawke. He’d wanted to be the one to tell her. And while it would definitely upset her, he was already keeping things from her until she was stronger. If he waited any longer, she would see him not telling her sooner about Hawke as one more betrayal. He wouldn’t do that to her.

A flicker of alarm crossed her face, and he wondered what she thought he was going to say. Deciding he’d take that out later and examine it, he said, “Before we learned you were taken, Hawke and I were at the restaurant, following up on some final questions. When we were leaving, someone took a shot at me.”

“Who? Why?”

He would tell her about his friend Cotton later. The identity of the shooter was much less important than the man who’d paid for the hit.

“We’re fairly sure the same man responsible for abducting you was the one who hired someone to kill me.”

“That’s insane! I thought my abduction might have something to do with my past, since he knew my real name, but if he’s after you, too, there’s something else going on. Is this related to one of our ops?”

“No. We’ve ruled that out. It’s a long story, for a different day, but I know the man who took the contract. He called me after the fact and told me what had happened. He actually missed on purpose.”

The confusion in her expression was battling with the fatigue he knew she was feeling. Wanting to get this said and let her rest, he continued, “Again, that’s a story for another day. Thing is, even though he missed on purpose, a shard from a brick wall caught Hawke in the neck.”

Gasping, Jazz sat up, horror in eyes. “What? Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine now. It was touch and go for a few hours because of where the piece hit and the loss of blood, but he’s going to make a full recovery.”

Pressing her head back against the pillow, she whispered, “Thank God for that. Liv must have been terrified.”

“She was. But he’s already been released from the hospital and is home with Liv and Nikki. It’ll take him a few weeks to get his strength back.”

Surprising him, she grabbed his hand and brought it to her mouth for a soft kiss. “I hate that Hawke was hurt, but I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“Yeah, me, too. We need to find this bastard and get some answers.”

“And you really think it’s all related? My kidnapping and someone trying to kill you?”

“Yes. But that’s something we can talk about after you get some rest.”

“I’d like to argue with you, but I’m not sure I can stay awake for the argument.”

He laughed, and damn, did it feel good to be able to do that. He hadn’t felt the slightest amusement in over two weeks—not since she’d walked away from him.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Get some rest.” Standing, he leaned over and kissed her again. This time, he let his lips linger, softly caressing her mouth. She moaned beneath him, and he thought it was the sexiest, most beautiful sound in the world. He wanted to hear more of those moans.

He stopped at the door and turned to see she’d already closed her eyes, but what caught his breath in his chest was the little satisfied smile playing around her lips. Two days ago, he hadn’t been sure he’d ever see her again, and now, not only did he have her back, they were both finally on the same page. He’d dreamed about this forever. And he would kill anyone who tried to take her away from him again.