Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Montana

S itting on the back porch of Xavier’s cabin, Jazz drew in a breath of crisp fresh air, relishing its perfection. Before moving to Montana to work for Option Zero, she had always been a beach person. Mountains were pretty to look at, but you couldn’t swim in them like the ocean or walk barefoot through them, the way you could on a sandy beach. After she’d lived in the state for less than a month, her attitude had undergone a drastic change. There was nothing more beautiful than a snow-capped mountain, the sweet music of a meadowlark, or the sun reflecting on a golden aspen leaf.

She was relieved to be out of the hospital and a thousand miles away from Chicago. The doctors hadn’t been thrilled about her leaving, but after agreeing to follow every medical instruction and Xavier’s solemn vow that he would take the very best care of her, they had relented.

Funnily enough, their greatest concerns weren’t her gunshot wounds. Only one bullet had entered her, and it was actually still there. The other two had thankfully created only deep creases in her skin. She’d required stitches and antibiotics, but all in all, she’d been extremely fortunate. It had been the other things that had caused them concern—mainly her dehydration, exposure, and weight loss. Staying above one hundred ten pounds was always her goal. Most times, she didn’t make it, but she normally had a healthy appetite and tried to consume enough calories. Having been deprived of food and water for almost two weeks had dropped her weight much more drastically than she’d thought. She was now hovering just below a hundred pounds.

Fortunately, her appetite was returning, so with the additional promise to eat full, healthy meals and get plenty of sleep, she had been released.

“You need anything?”

Her heart performed a double flip at the gruff, sexy voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder and inwardly sighed. Xavier had been nothing but gentle and solicitous since she’d been here, treating her as if she were made of the most fragile of porcelain. She couldn’t say she hated it, because it felt so good to be cared for with such detail and determination. When Xavier Quinn set his mind to something, he was like a bulldozer, knocking down anything that might get in the way of his goal. And it was obvious that his goal was to make sure she fully recovered.

Such total focus from her sexy, handsome partner was a double-edged sword, though. On one hand, she appreciated everything he was doing for her. On the other hand, being seen as an invalid or weak was not how she wanted him to view her. Jazz thrived on her independence. And Xavier, bless him, was so vigilant that she was surprised he even allowed her to feed herself.

Realizing he was waiting for an answer, she shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Are you warm enough?”

It was the middle of summer, and though they were at a high altitude, it certainly wasn’t cold. However, he’d insisted on covering her with a blanket when she’d come out to sit on the porch.

“It feels good out here. Why don’t you sit with me?” She scooted over on the bench. “You’ve been working your ass off ever since we got here.”

“Just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“I know that…and I appreciate it, but you can take some time and relax with me. Okay?”

For just a second, he hesitated, and then he dropped down beside her. Then, before she could say anything, he lifted the blanket gathered on her lap and gently tucked it over her shoulders.

“Enough,” she said dryly. “I’m not your grandmother.”

In a tone even drier than hers, he said, “Trust me, I know that.”

Twisting around to face him, she said, “Listen. I know I was in rough shape, but I’m much better now. You can relax. Okay?”

“I won’t relax until we catch the bastard responsible.”

“Anything new on that?”

“Not really. Serena sent out the sketch she created from your description of the guy to all our contacts in Chicago, but so far, no hits.”

“I wish I could have talked to him one more time.”

“Hopefully, you’ll get to when we take him down.” Surprising her, he threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “But for now, you need to rest.”

Since arguing would do no good and being held so close to him was a dream come true, Jazz nestled her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Despite everything she had gone through, she couldn’t deny that she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Xavier allowed the peace to surround him. When he’d had this cabin built a couple years ago, he had imagined having Jazz here with him. Looking like a gentle breeze could knock her over hadn’t been part of that vision. No matter how much she protested that she was better, she still looked as though she were from a war-torn third-world country. He wanted her stronger, healthier.

Telling her what he and Ash had learned from Kate had to be put on the back burner until she was stronger. She would have a ton of questions, and so far, he had no answers. He and Ash were digging, trying to find what they could, but the intel was almost three decades old. It was harder to find, but he was determined to get what he could before he blew her world apart.

He hadn’t even talked to her about why she’d taken off and tried to work the case in Seattle on her own. There had to be specific reasons, but until she showed him she was strong enough to take some emotional turmoil, he’d keep it light and easy for her. No questions, no pressure. Just rest and good food.

Good food? He grimaced. That was one thing he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t a good cook. When he was home, not on an op, he usually threw a couple of sandwiches together and called it a meal. When he and Jazz were on an op, they either ate out or picked something up. But now that they were here, he wanted her to get some well-rounded healthy meals—and that was why, in between digging for intel, he’d been perusing cookbooks. So far, his efforts had been less than impressive.

The vibration in his pocket alerted him to a call. Easing Jazz off his shoulder, he gently tilted her head to settle against the cushion behind her. She slept so deeply, she never noticed. His heart literally broke to see how pale and emaciated she looked.

Standing, he walked back into the house quickly and grabbed his phone. “Quinn.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Ash asked.

“About the same. She’s sleeping, eating. That’s about the extent of it.”

“Is she well enough to?—”

“No, not yet. She needs at least another week before she faces this.”

“I won’t argue, but she’ll need to know soon. If this intel is related to her abduction—which I feel sure it is—things are in the works we need to address.”

“I know.” Xavier swiped his hand down his face. Oh hell, did he know. Every moment he held off telling her, the less likely she would forgive him when he did reveal what they’d learned. He’d have to take that hit when it came, because he refused to put this on her until she was healthier.

“Serena called in and said she’s running down a thread that she thinks will lead to something. She didn’t go into detail.”

“Is she not in town?”

“No. Her grandfather fell and broke his leg.”

Xavier knew what that meant. Most of Serena’s family lived in Wisconsin, and she was extremely close to them. If they needed her, she was there in a heartbeat. But what he found remarkable was her ability to continue to work on her OZ projects as well as be there for her family.

Since Sean, her husband, had pulled his disappearing act, Xavier knew she was staying extra busy to counteract the heartbreak. Some people used all sorts of crutches to deal with grief, and Serena’s was her work. When he’d asked her a few weeks ago how she was doing, she’d told him that staying busy by focusing on what had to be done was the only way she’d been able to deal with Sean’s defection.

Xavier had no idea where Sean had gone or why he was behaving like such an ass. All he knew was when he did turn back up, he’d have a lot to answer for. Serena meant the world to everyone at Option Zero, and they were all infuriated on her behalf.

“Jazz mention to you yet why she tried to investigate Bass’s shooting on her own?”

“Not yet.” They’d literally had zero conversations about work or anything remotely related to any hot-button issue. All of that was going to have to wait. “Anything come up on his killing?”

When Jazz had disappeared, all efforts to find Bass’s killer had been put aside.

“No, not really. Serena put together a sketch based on the descriptions of the kitchen workers, but there were so many contradictions about them, she doesn’t feel comfortable with it.”

That wasn’t a surprise. Even though the guy had worked at the restaurant for almost two months, the descriptions given to them by the people who’d worked side by side with the killer had been blurry at best. He’d somehow subtly changed his appearance numerous times, but not so much that those alterations had been glaringly obvious. Xavier wasn’t one to admire a cold-blooded killer, but he had to give this guy props for being so crafty.

“Yeah,” Xavier said, “even his height and weight fluctuated. That’s a helluva talent.”

“Indeed. The man’s a professional. Finding him might even be harder than getting to the root of Wren itself.”

The sound of a timer going off caught his attention. “Gotta go. My bread is done.”

“You’re baking bread?”

“Yeah…maybe.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

The call clicked off on Ash’s guffaw of laughter. Grumbling to himself, Xavier raced to the kitchen to see just how bad this evening’s meal was going to be.