Chapter Eight

“This really isn’t necessary.” Hayden stood in the middle of the safe house.

The townhouse was located not too far from Sloan Lake, and because the place was newly built, people wouldn’t think too much about new occupants moving in. All they could hope was that it was far enough away from prying eyes.

The place was a ten-minute drive from Denver and Cobalt Security headquarters.

“Trust me, this is necessary,” Jaxon said, putting down the two overnight bags.

It was the stuff Jaxon had packed before Hayden had tried to kill Bozz and prior to the deli being blowing up. That had been twenty-four hours earlier but to Hayden, it felt like days had gone by. Exhaustion did that to a guy, and a concussion.

Jaxon strode through the house checking everything.

“Did you know about this place?” he called out and rummaged in his pack. He couldn’t ever remember this particular condo being on their list of safe places to bring clients. Sometimes, they had to improvise and hide people from potential suspects when the environment they were in proved to be unfit.

Pulling out his Sig Sauer from the duffle, he tucked it beneath his shirt. After everything that happened, he wasn’t going to be without his weapon.

He began walking through the quaintly decorated townhouse-type condo with comfy leather couches, brown wood floors, and white shag rugs. A massive television hung on the wall with a custom hutch beneath. Splashes of red were thrown in to give the place color. Hayden stopped at the patio windows and opened the white vertical blinds to be faced with a smattering of trees. Over the tops of homes and the park, he could see the blue-colored lake in the distance. A boat floated across the surface with two men fishing and the city of Denver rising in the distance.

“No, Logan told me that it’s a recent acquisition of Giovanni Rossi’s,” Jaxon finally answered him, his voice closer when the man reentered the living room.

Hayden smiled out the window, spotting a neighbor walking two dogs. Or rather, the large Greyhound dogs were walking the neighbor.

Giovanni Rossi was the head of two covert teams that worked mostly out of California with the occasional international jobs. Phoenix and Pegasus mainly assisted law enforcement. And while he would have loved nothing more than to cozy up here away from the world with Jaxon, he wasn’t going to wait here while their team discovered what the hell was going on.

“We can’t stay here long.”

“Why not?” Jaxon grumbled, and Hayden turned to face the glowering man.

“I have a hair appointment.”

“What the hell are you going to do to your hair?” Jaxon scowled at his head.

“Who knows, shave my head bald?” he smirked, and Jaxon squinted and then grinned.

“That will be the day.”

“I still can’t stay here long,” Hayden murmured.

“Again, why not?”

“I have to collect my clothes from the motel.” He crossed his arms. Hayden knew he was being combative, but he had a headache.

“Come on, lay out in the chair on the balcony and I’ll make you some hot cocoa,” Jaxon said in that gruff, sexy voice of his.

Hayden let himself be drawn out onto the rather nice-sized balcony. He sat in a recliner that was positioned in the sun. Because it was late April and chilly in Colorado, but the sun was still shining, Jaxon spread a blanket over his lap.

“Don’t get used to this.” He sent the man a narrowed look and Jaxon backed up with his hands up.

“I won’t, but you’ve been blown up and shot at in a matter of a few days. I think some relaxing is in order.”

“Are you telling me to chill out?” Hayden pursed his lips and then swallowed when Jaxon’s gaze dropped to his mouth.

“You’re at an eleven, I need you to bring it down to a six at the most.”

“I may give you an eight if you’re lucky.”

“I need at least a seven.”

“Grab a straw because you suck,” he quipped, holding back a laugh. He’d read that one somewhere and it was too good to pass up.

Jaxon huffed on an amused breath. “Okay, an eight. I’ll take what I can get.”

Another response sat on the tip of Hayden’s tongue, but Jaxon disappeared back into the house.

Hayden sighed, tucked his Glock beneath the pillow at his side, and gazed out at the tranquil scene. He wanted to walk to the lake, but figured it had to be a mile or more and he wasn’t sure he had the energy. Jaxon thought he was an eleven now, but there’d been a time, when he was younger, where he’d been at least a twenty.

He’d always been up to trouble and had run wild most of his youth. His mother, rest her soul, had been a patient woman, at least with him. They’d grown up in a small homestead on the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona, with enough of a yard to go full speed. The neighborhood had been filled with kids and fun. Then Byron had been killed by a drunk driver.

He shook off the thought of his youngest brother and of the last time he’d seen him happily waving his hand, eight years old—Byron had been gone in the next moment, leaving his mom, Hayden, and Wyatt behind.

It was ten years after Byron’s death that their mom passed from breast cancer. At sixteen, Hayden had clung to Wyatt as it was just the two of them against the world. They hadn’t known their dad because he’d died in the war, and his mom had kept them alive with the checks from the Army.

The military was something he never wanted to join. Instead, he’d gone to college and obtained his bachelor’s degree in computer science and criminology and that was a happier time and several years prior to finding out his older brother had been a traitor and killed because of it.

Hayden was the only one left of his entire family.

The screen door creaked and Jaxon reappeared with two cups of cocoa and handed him one.

Hayden sipped at the sweet liquid, licked his lips, and kept his eyes glued to the trees.

“Why so sad?”

“Me?” He fought to give a slight smile. “I’m always happy.” When Jaxon didn’t answer, Hayden slid his eyes upward and found those smoky gray orbs locked on him.

“I was just thinking…about when I was young and didn’t have a care in the world. It was just me and my brothers and what trouble we could get into.” He knew his voice sounded pensive, but damn it, sometimes he didn’t want to be the life of the party.

Tears spurted, catching him by surprise, and he turned his head quickly to hide them. The cup in his hands wobbled.

“Hey.” Jaxon was there in a heartbeat, rescuing his mug before setting them both on a small nearby table. Jaxon plucked him up like he weighed nothing, took his flipping seat, and then sat him on his lap as if he were a child. Stunned, he froze for a moment. He wiggled when strong arms crushed him close and after a few more struggles, Hayden stopped fighting.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jaxon’s deep voice murmured and his big hand smoothed slowly up and down his back.

“Jaxon…I…” Hayden drew back, stumbling over his words.

But they wouldn’t come.

Because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.