19. I’ve Got Your Back

I've Got Your Back

Saxon

J ean-Paul's super fancy private jet lands at Harry Reid airport and taxis us to a private area. I was expecting maybe Inez in one of the G-Wagens, not the whole crew.

But there they all are, arms on waists and hand in hand, coupled up—except Lash and Inez, who stand alone, and Solomon, who is absent.

Terra hides behind me at the top of the stairs. "That's a lot of new people, holy shit."

I laugh. "I'll introduce you. Come on."

She shakes her head. "No."

I sigh. "Terra. They're my people. They came to meet you."

She shakes her head—I feel it against my back. "I know I seem like a tough, in-your-face bitch, and I am, but deep down I'm actually kinda shy. Top secret info I'm giving you, here."

I toss a crutch off the stairs and it's caught by Rev, followed by the second one. I brace my weight on the handrails and swing-hop down the stairs, ready to accept my crutches back, but instead, I'm assaulted.

Well, hugged, but still. All at once. By everyone. Silas is first, slamming into me.

"Oof—fuck, bro, ease off. Ribs are still healing," I wheeze. "I'm good. I'm okay"

"Suck it up, buttercup. You were shot, I'm allowed a single fuckin' bro hug." Silas scrubs my hair and slaps me on the back.

I laugh. "Okay, so who's—"

I'm interrupted by a giant pair of pythonic arms wrapping around me and lifting my ass clear off the ground. "Sax, my man," Chance's rumble shakes my chest. "Glad you're alive. Had us worried. I was about to come after you."

"I had it handled," I mutter. "Mostly."

Rev comes in and slings his arms under Chance's, and then Kane, and I smell Lash's cologne and feel his mustache against the back of my neck.

"Jesus, you fuckin' guys. I'm good. I didn't even almost die."

"Yes you did, you dick," Terra says, finally coming down from the airplane door opening. "I had to tourniquet your leg with your own fuckin' shoelaces."

"Inez won't tell us anything," Chance grumbles. "You gotta tell us what really happened." He quite literally towers over Terra—seven feet over five-three. "This dick will lie and omit like a motherfucker, so you gotta fill us in, Sprite."

Terra stares way, way up at him. "Jesus fucking Christ on a bicycle, you're enormous."

Chance shrugs. "Yeah, but I'm a teddy bear. Just ask Nik." He reaches out a huge arm and hauls Annika over. "This is my girl, Annika. I'm Chance."

"Hi, nice to meet you. Terra." She eyes him. "Why Sprite?"

"Like the tiny fictional faerie creatures? Not the soda."

She laughs. "Oh, right." I can see her nerves, though, despite her bravado. "So…everyone else?"

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and lean on her, holding my crutches in the other hand, gesturing with them. "My dude with the mohawk is Rev, the hot blond with him is Myka. Next to Myka is Kane, and his girl Anjalee. This douchebag is my brother Silas." I skip his new girlfriend. "Her I haven't met yet. Mustache man is Lash, and scary viper lady is Inez." I don't think, I just do—I bend down and kiss Terra on the temple. "Everyone, this is Terra."

Stares—stunned, and silent.

Silas's girl steps forward—she's on the taller end of medium height, maybe five-eight-ish, with long auburn hair loose around her shoulders. "Hello, I'm Naomi."

Terra steps forward, extends her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Naomi looks at me. "I've heard much about you, Saxon."

I grin. "Can't say the same, but I've been a little busy." I shake her hand after Terra. "Great to meet you. Your story as fucked up as everyone else's?"

She seems quiet and reserved, but her smile at my question is genuine. "Very much so, yes."

"Well, I look forward to hearing it." I hold her hand, hold her gaze. "He's good to you?"

She softens, turns sweet, her loving gray eyes on my brother. "He saved me. In every way there is."

"Who saved who is a matter of who's doing the telling," Silas says. "And if we're telling stories, you go first."

"Back at the club," I say. "With a drink or ten."

"Hear, hear," Terra says. "I need to get naked wasted, stat."

"Everyone find a seat," Inez says, clapping her hands. "Time to go."

I turn to her. "Wait, hold on. What's up with Sol?"

She shrugs. "The last communication I received from him was yesterday, an encrypted email that went to my spam folder. He's somewhere in South America, alive, and handling his problem."

"Any clue what his problem is?" I press.

"No." She holds her hands out, palms up. "Only that the CIA isn't done with him yet."

I growl. "He needs help. I can fuckin' feel it."

Si turns back and looks at me. "Yeah, I've had the same feeling."

I slam my crutches on the ground. "Fucking leg. Goddammit."

Lash stares around the group. "I will go."

I just laugh. "And find him how? His codename in the agency was WindWalker. You cannot find him if he doesn't wanna be found. That goes for me, too, and that was my fucking job."

Lash smooths his fingers over his mustache. "I have ways others do not, even you. I will find him." He glances at the jet. "I require the very fancy airplane."

I sigh, pull out my burner, call Jean-Paul.

" Oui , my friend? How was the jet?"

"Incredible. Which brings me to my reason for calling—my brother is missing, and I was hoping we could borrow the jet a bit longer."

No hesitation. "Certainly. As long as you wish. I'll contact my pilot and give him orders to take you wherever you wish to go." A pause. "Well, whomever is going, since you're still limited in your mobility."

"Thanks, Jean-Paul. Appreciate it."

"Of course. Do you wish additional resources?"

"Possibly? I'll have Lash call you if he needs something."

"Lash. I'll look for his call."

Lash just stares at me. "I will not need help from the Cabal."

"Not the Cabal, exactly—From Jean-Paul."

"I will not need help." He turns on a heel and goes up into the jet, and I hear him talking to the pilots about how soon they can take off.

I look at Inez. "What crawled up his ass and died?"

"I believe he is feeling a combination of jealousy, loneliness, and bitterness regarding past traumas, If I were to guess," she answers. "Best to let him go and deal with it his own way."

Rev growls a laugh. "If the pattern holds, he'll show up with a woman."

"Sol too," Chance says. "But I gotta admit, I have a hard time seeing the woman who can crack that man's shell."

Silas and I both laugh.

"No one gets past his shell," I say. "We're his fuckin' brothers and he doesn't say shit to us about himself, his feelings, or his life. I don't even know what happened to land him here in the first place."

"Solomon is a deep, dark, difficult, dangerous man," Silas says.

"He's the only human I truly fear," I say.

Terra laughs, and then looks at me. "Wait, you're not joking."

I shake my head. "Not even a little. He scares the hell out of me."

"If I had to pick anyone to show up out of the shadows to save my ass," Kane says, "it'd be Lash. There's ghosts, and then there's that motherfucker."

Terra looks at the other women, who are clustered together. "Do they always talk about each other like that?"

Myka laughs. "Yes. But to be fair, they're not wrong. Solomon is terrifying, and Lash is an utter mystery."

I head for the nearest SUV. "Put it this way, honey: my brother makes me seem like the little gingerbread man."

"And Lash?"

No one answers. Eventually, Inez speaks up, sliding behind the wheel of the SUV—Kane and Anjalee wedge in next to Terra in the second row.

"Lash does not exist. He is not in any database, anywhere in the world. No country of origin. No known birth date. No known family or next of kin. No service record in any military organization, anywhere." Inez pauses to let that sink in. "My knowledge of him extends so far as to suggest that he operated, in some capacity, for the German military's special forces, but again, there is no official record of him—under his own name or any other."

"Oh," Terra says. "That's a little weird."

"He told us a bit, once. But only a very little bit," Kane says.

"And I know only a tiny bit more than that, myself," Inez says. "But I happen to agree with you, Kane—if I required backup, especially in the part of the world where your brother is, I would choose Lash."

"Well, let's hope he's in time to help Sol," I say.

"I have a feeling he'll be rescuing the other guys from Sol," Kane says.

We're passing through the touristy part of Las Vegas on our way to the Club. Terra is wide-eyed, taking everything in. She's thinking, though, I can tell.

I glance over my shoulder at her. "Hey, you good?"

She nods without looking at me. And then, abruptly, she slaps her hand on the window. "Inez? Can you pull over?"

Inez complies, stopping at the curb. "Yes?"

Terra is staring at the building—The Little White Wedding Chapel. Her eyes go to me. "Saxon?"

I twist in my seat. "Terra?"

She licks her lips. Swallows hard. "M…fuck." She blinks hard, opens her eyes and meets mine. "Marry me. Now. Please."

Anjalee gasps and slaps her palm over her mouth.

My heart stops. "For real?"

She yanks at the door handle—Inez hits the unlock button and Terra scrambles out of the SUV, out into traffic, around the back, and to my door. Jerks it open. Kneels in the door opening. "For real. Marry me."

I shove my crutches out and find my feet. "You're serious. Get married, right here, right now, at the Elvis chapel?"

"Yes." Her eyes water. "I've got your back. Saxon, I've got your back."

No one speaks.

"Fuckin' nut job," I whisper, taking her hand. Lift her to her feet. "I love you too. Yeah, fuck it, let's get married."

The others have swarmed out of the SUVs.

"What's goin' on?" Chance says. "Looks like a weird, backwards proposal."

"Because it is." I raise my voice so they can all hear. "Detour, everyone. Terra and I are getting married."

Silas and Naomi trade glances.

"You wanna?" Silas says to her.

Naomi just nods. Then looks at Terra. "Is that all right with you?"

Terra sniffles. "Hell yes! Double wedding." She takes Naomi's hand. "I guess we'd better start getting to know each other huh? We're gonna be sisters."

Which is how I end up standing in front of an Elvis impersonator, staring down into Terra's turquoise eyes, only half listening as the impersonator-officiant makes Elvis lyric-themed love puns.

Finally, I cut in. "Hey, yeah, we got it. You've got Elvis jokes. Let me talk, man." The officiant stumbles over his half-told joke and looks at me, and then gestures at me. "Thanks. Listen, Terra. I've done a lot of crazy shit in my life. Stupid shit. Dangerous shit. But this? This is the sanest thing I've ever done. I know you. I love you. I want to be with you, and only you, for as long as you'll stick with me."

Terra squeezes my hands, breathing hard, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "I want to say it, Saxon. I'm trying."

"Hey, I know. Okay? You don't have to."

"I'm all in. It's like…I saw you on the sidewalk, and I just knew : you were it. It scared me then, and it scares me now. I just…saying that —saying those words…I…" She shakes her head, closes her eyes. "I'm nothing if not self-aware. I've done a lot of self-reflection over the years, trying to figure myself out. And I…everything has always been about control."

"Terra, I know ." I cup her face. "I'm not asking for that part of you. I'll take as much of you as you'll give me. I know you feel it, honey. I see it. I feel it. I hear it. And you know what? It may feel like we've known each other forever because the last couple days have felt like a fuckin' lifetime all packed into a few hours, but really, we just met. I can wait. You'll get there, someday. And if you don't, that's okay. I've got you. I get it."

She shakes her head. "No, it's not okay. I'm holding back, and you're not. I just… fuck ." She tips her head back and blinks.

"Terra—"

"Shut the hell up for a second. Just—give me a minute."

Everyone laughs, because she says this with a sniffle and a laugh.

Finally, she sucks in a deep breath. Holds it. Turns her eyes to mine. "You deserve all of me. I can shoot a man's brains out, but I can't say three little words? Fuck that." She holds up a hand to forestall me. "Shush."

I grin. Bite my lip.

"Don't laugh at me, asshole."

"I'm not. I'm not laughing at you. You're just fuckin' adorable and I love you. Take all the time you need."

"But not too long," Silas yells. "It's our turn next."

Terra laughs, sniffles again. "You make it seem so easy, but I know you never heard that, either." She squares her shoulders, takes another deep breath. Looks at me. "I…fuck!" She stomps her foot. "It won't come out."

I just laugh and pull her against me. "Don't force it, honey. I hear it." I look at the officiant. "Ask the question."

To me, he says with the Elvis sneer: "Do you take this woman, this hunka-hunka burnin' love, this tongue-tied babe, to be your lawfully wedded wife, as long as you both shall live, no matter what?"

"I do," I say.

"And you, darlin'—do you take this man, who you've just confessed to murder for in a room full of witnesses, to be your husband, your main squeeze, your big daddy, forever and always, no matter what?"

"God, you're so cheesy, Jesus." She swallows. "Yeah, I sure the fuck do."

"Then, by the power invested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you m-m-m-married!" He does the Elvis hip twist. "Kiss her, my man!"

I do. I kiss her.

A few minutes later, Silas and Naomi are up there, and the officiant waves at Silas. "I'm guessing you have something to say."

"Damn right, I do." Silas looks up, shrugs, laughs. "Eh, that's good enough. Damn right, I do."

Naomi giggles. "I do, too."

She reaches up, pulls him down, and kisses him so long and hard we all whistle.

"Well, I guess you're married, or something. Ya'll are some odd ducks, man." The Elvis officiant looks around. "Anyone else?"

No one pipes up, so the four of us sign paperwork and fill out forms, and then we're back in the SUVs.

Total time elapsed: Less than an hour.

I look back at Terra. She still seems upset. "Hey. You good?"

She smiles at me, but I see thoughts swirling behind her eyes. "Yeah, I'm good."

I laugh. "Liar. But we're almost there."

We give her a tour of the Club, starting with the main floors and then our private quarters area beneath the club, ending with my personal room.

Once we're alone, I lay on my bed, snag Terra, and haul her back down with me, cradling her head against my chest. "Talk."

"No."

I laugh. "Something is bugging you. Just tell me. Second thoughts about getting married? Or moving in here?"

"I don't how to say it."

My heart pounds. "Just blurt it out, like ripping duct tape off."

She sits up. "I haven't been alone since we met. I…what you may not realize about me is that I'm a loner. I've always been alone. And Em…she saved my life, literally. I was…I was not in a great place when we met, and she pulled me out. So…I've got her back, too. But I'm still…alone. And…And since we met, it's just been this whirlwind, and I haven't had a chance to breathe, to think."

"We can get it annulled," I say, my voice hoarse.

She turns to me, eyes wide. "No! No, no, no. God, I'm fucking this up so bad." She rests on my chest, palms on my cheeks, thumbs on my lips. "That's not what I'm trying to say. I don't want an annulment. I want to be married to you. I want to live here."

"Well then, I'm fuckin' confused, because you seem upset and it came out of nowhere, and I don't know what it is or what I did, or how to fix it."

She kisses my lips, breathing on me, breathing me in. "Nothing. It's not you. You didn't do anything, and it's nothing you can fix—it's nothing to be fixed. Nothing is wrong."

"Then make sense, dammit."

"I need time alone, to process," She blurts. "I just don't know how to say it. How to ask, without you thinking I need time away from you . It's not you , it's…everyone, everything. I just…I need a few days by myself to just… process . Meeting you, everything that happened, shooting Jarrod, why I can't say the words."

I laugh, unable to stop myself. "That's it? That's what's got you buggin' so bad?"

She frowns at me. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because that's…it's fuckin' nothing. I'm a loner, too, babe. I've been alone my whole life, too. Yeah, I've got my brothers—Silas especially. I know, if I need them, they're there. They'll take on the world, for me. Kill for me. Die for me. But…it doesn't touch the loneliness."

She nods. "You get it."

"God, do I get it, honey. When you grew up alone, ignored, unseen—or if you are seen, it's not a good thing…" I dig deep, giving her vulnerability so raw it's terrifying. "You develop this shell of isolation. It's a loneliness that no one and nothing can touch."

"Exactly," She whispers. "But now there's you."

"You got inside somehow, "I tell her. "Like, I saw you, and you got inside the wall before it had time to go up. You were just…there, on the inside. You see me. You just… see me." I rest my forehead against hers. "And I see you. So, if you need time alone, then go . Do it. Go get a flight to wherever Em and Tom are, or just…whatever. Get a suite at the Bellagio and get room service and watch TV and do nothing. You need that time to process? Go. Take a day or a week or a month—I'll be here, waiting for you." I hold her eyes. "I love you. And please hear me: I don't want any more bullshit from you about forcing yourself to say it. I don't need the words, Terra. I don't."

"But I want to give them to you, though," she whispers. "And…I think—I hope…time to process everything will help me figure it out. So I can say it."

"Then take all the time you need."

"I just don't want you to think—"

I kiss her to shut her up. "Enough. I'm not threatened by you needing time to process. A lot of shit went down all at once. It's cool. I'm good. I'm not worried. I'm not mad. I'll miss you, but as long as you're coming back, I'm good."

"I'll come back." She rests her cheek on my chest.

When I wake up, she's gone. She left a note:

Meeting Em and Tom here in Vegas tomorrow. Doing what you said: getting a room at the Bellagio. Give me three days, and then come find me.

Got your back,

xoxoxo,

Me

She drew a heart around the "Me" and surrounded by more X's and O's.

I just laugh and toss the note aside. "Sneaky little bitch."

I use the time to get to know Naomi and fill the guys in on the events of the last few days, and work at walking around without crutches.

Three days later, I walk into the Bellagio.