Chapter Twenty-Five

Jaxon watched as Hayden moved like silk through the darkened interior of the hotel.

In whatever capacity Hayden wanted him to be, that was what he’d become. If Hayden wanted a friend, lover, confidant, or to tell him to fuck off and disappear, Jaxon would do it.

Discovering that Hayden was the only man he’d ever loved had sent a thrill through him, yet knowing his discovery had come too late and he’d never have a chance to say the words was a crushing blow. He had thought he’d experienced love in the past and maybe he had, but it had been fleeting.

With Hayden, the love he felt was all-consuming.

Every shadow, noise, and change in the air charged his senses to hyperawareness and his vigilance became a living, breathing thing as he matched Hayden step for step, weapon up and ready as they approached a floor with several storage and conference rooms. With his focus so intent, it wasn’t surprising that he saw Wyatt before anyone else and he lightly touched Hayden on the shoulder and pointed toward his brother.

“Wyatt,” Hayden said and stopped. He’d only breathed the name and his brother didn’t turn, so Hayden spoke louder. “Wyatt.”

The hissing whisper of his name turned Wyatt in their direction and the look of joy mixed with pain on the other man’s face was staggering. With a straight arm down by his side, Wyatt put his hand out flat and gave a sign that Jaxon took to mean to stay back.

Hayden, however, did not heed his brother’s warning and surged forward with a fluid motion. Jaxon followed, right on Hayden’s ass, gun up, at the ready.

What they hadn’t seen behind the pillar and row of boxes in the large storage room were the men Wyatt had been facing.

“Get back!” Wyatt shouted and lifted his gun.

The men, probably eight in total, he wasn’t sure, fired and sprang for cover.

Hayden charged forward, shooting repeatedly into the boxes. Jaxon emptied a clip and then reloaded. He jumped after Hayden when the man moved and together, they leapt over crap in sync. It was like old times. Fuck, he had missed this. He took out one guy before he could get off another shot.

Ryder and Gunner rejoined them after the gunfire and both men fanned out, racing after other suspects.

Wyatt caught up to them and grabbed at Hayden’s arm, but the man eluded him and kept firing until his gun clicked over and over, having run out of bullets.

Jaxon emptied his own clip and stopped to reload.

“Damn it, Hayden. Stop,” Wyatt said and Hayden turned, panting as he glared at his brother.

“Oh, now you have something to say!” Hayden growled, completely missing the perp coming down the aisle, but Jaxon didn’t.

He shoved the clip into the Beretta as the suspect’s own weapon came up. The fucker held a modified semi-automatic.

Not even thinking, Jaxon stepped in front of Hayden and shoved hard, sending the slighter man to the floor before he lifted his weapon, and he and the suspect opened fired at the same time.

Jaxon was punched back when a bullet entered his collarbone and another into his pelvis, as well as a few hitting the vest. The burn was instant, but the pain sat in the distance. He slammed to the floor just as Wyatt grabbed the gun from his hand and fired. Hayden jumped up, slammed home a clip, and fired over and over at the perp.

“I think he’s dead,” he coughed, and that was when the pain hit. Fuck. Jaxon met Hayden’s wide, scared eyes. The man dropped to his knees, pressing a hand to where his shoulder met his neck.

“God damned bodyguard,” Hayden hissed, and it hurt Jaxon that tears started streaming down the man’s face, and gasping, heaving breaths escaped like raw sounds of agony. The fear in Hayden’s eyes was blinding, but he saw the love and he choked trying to speak. The words came out as only a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, beauty,” he coughed. “I love you.”

There, at least he’d gotten to say it.

“Jaxon! Jaxon!”

He tried to smile when the panic in Hayden’s face dissolved into terror and tears.

Perhaps he’d been forgiven after all. Jaxon wanted to tell Wyatt to watch out for and take care of his brother, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. The blood on the floor pooled out like a lake beneath his ass, he could feel the warmth, and he slid sideways before he was caught and lifted.

Hayden’s screams were the last sound he heard, the man’s ravaged yet still beautiful face the last thing he saw.

“Jaxon,” a voice whispered near his ears and he wanted to lift his lids, but they were too heavy. “You do not get to leave me in the middle of a fight. That’s not how this works. We need to make up and I need to look into your eyes when I tell you I love you back.”

The voice faded and the darkness took over.

“Please, Jaxon, don’t leave me.” The trembling, sobbing words came again along with a repetitive beeping sound—how much time had passed, he wasn’t sure, but he heard the voice full of tears, and wanted to comfort whomever was speaking. The need to nurture and protect the owner of that voice kept him from falling from the gray into the black.

“When you get out of here, I’m going to make you stay in bed for a month. Preferably with me, but we’ll discuss that over dinner.” The voice prattled on this time in a continuous stream along with a hand softly stroking his hair. It felt nice.

“Have I told you I love you today?” the voice went on. “No? Well, I do, and I got over my anger about Wyatt. I know why you lied to me. I know you did it because you love me and would protect me from trying to find Wyatt if I had known he was alive. Because even though I thought he was a criminal, I would have searched for him. I realize that now and you keeping the truth from me kept me from fucking up Wyatt’s life.” Fingers continued combing softly through his hair before trailing down to cup his cheek, and he turned into the hand.

The hitch of a sobbing breath was hard to miss and then the man was hovering over him, lips touching his ear before the whispered words caressed him.

“Jaxon, I love you.”