Mine to Have (Mine 5)

That was when Sloan lost it. He surged toward Saxon, swinging his fist. It was the most pathetic punch that Saxon had ever seen. He didn’t dodge it. He just caught the guy’s fist with his left hand and held it easily.

Sloan’s breath choked out in shocked surprise.

“Want to see how hard I can hit?” Saxon asked him, curious. “Because I think I can take you down with one punch.”

Fear chased away all the rage that had filled Sloan’s gaze. “Who are you?”

Now Saxon did smile again, but he knew it would be a terrifying sight. “I was your boss, until you screwed-up. Now I’m an enemy you don’t want to have.” His hold tightened on the guy’s fingers. It would be so easy to break them…

But I’m supposed to be someone else now.

He shoved the guy away. “We’re done.”

Sloan nearly ran for the door. It slammed shut behind him.

Saxon exhaled slowly, then he pressed the intercom button on his phone. “Vanessa?”

“Sir?”

“Get security to escort Sloan Quest from the building. He’s no longer in my employ.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

He ended the connection. This businessman shit wasn’t easy. When he saw an asshole messing with his woman, Saxon wanted to beat the shit out of him, plain and simple.

But I held back. The guy walked away.

If they’d met on the streets of Miami, in any of the bars that Saxon had visited during his undercover days, Sloan wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Saxon exhaled. He’d had a gym installed for the employees. One that included a few punching bags. He needed a workout—bad. He was still in the mood to pound something.

***

She found him in the gym forty-five minutes later. Word had reached Elizabeth about Sloan’s dismissal, and she’d known—right away—that Saxon had found out about the guy’s little chat with her.

Saxon was the only one in the gym. He was wearing jogging pants and a loose t-shirt. One that was covered in sweat. He was pounding a big punching bag, hitting it over and over again with lightning-fast moves. For a minute, she just paused and watched him.

The guy was incredible.

And so sexy.

But…

“You were in the hospital two weeks ago,” Elizabeth pointed out.

He stopped punching. His shoulders heaved as he leaned forward.

“Maybe you should take things a little easier.”

He caught the swaying bag in his hands and stilled it. “You heard.”

“Gossip travels fast.” Gossip and voices…she’d heard Sloan shouting when security escorted him away.

Saxon glanced over at her. A drop of sweat slid down his cheek. His eyes were hesitant, a bit wary. She wasn’t used to seeing him look that way. Since when did Saxon hesitate about anything?

She crept closer to him. The gym was quite impressive. Lots of weight machines. Ellipticals. Treadmills—

“He took a swing at me. Was I supposed to let the guy keep working here?”

Her head tilted as she studied him. “You heard what he said to me this morning.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Fine, fuck yes, I did. And the guy was fired the minute those words shot out of his mouth and he grabbed you.”

That was what she’d thought. Elizabeth wet her lips and asked, “So why didn’t you storm in immediately? I-I didn’t even realize you were there.”

Now he turned to fully face her. “Because you were handling your shit, baby.”

She blinked.

“You were a perfect lady—and he was trash. You were in control, and I just wanted to watch you.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Then I fired his ass.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Saxon…”

“I don’t have this thing down yet, okay? This whole business world, playing things cool. I wanted to drive my fist into his face and break his nose, but I didn’t.”

Ah. Things clicked. “That’s why you’re in here punching the bag.” Because he still wanted to punch something.

He gave a curt nod. “I just…I don’t want anyone hurting you. You…” Saxon trailed off.

But she wanted him to keep talking. “I—what?”

“You matter to me.”

It wasn’t a declaration of undying love. The words were rough and curt and growling—typical Saxon, but they still made her heart beat faster as a warm glow spread through her chest. Elizabeth had to quickly look away from him because she was afraid her gaze might reveal too many of her own emotions.

“Elizabeth?” Now he sounded worried.

She blinked again, a few fast times, and looked back at him. “You matter to me, too.” More and more with each moment that passed.

He took a few steps toward her and started to reach out for her, but then he stopped. “I’m a sweaty mess. I should go get showered. Get back to work.”

“I should, too. Get back to work, I mean.” Though the idea of stepping into a shower with him sure was tempting. Her gaze went back to the punching bag. “I bet you were fantastic to see in the ring,” she whispered.

“Damn straight.”

The guy was so cocky sometimes. Laughter spilled from her.

“God, but I love that sound.” His words were just as rough as before and his eyes had darkened with a feverish intensity.

Her laughter died away. “Saxon?”

“If I had my way, I’d hear your laughter every day. It just…it makes me feel good.” Then, before she could speak, he whirled away and picked up a towel. “I know I sound like an idiot, so just—”

She touched his arm. What a sweaty, strong arm it was. His muscles flexed beneath her touch. “You don’t sound like an idiot.”

&nb

sp; He looked down at her. A faint furrow appeared between his brows, as if he were trying to figure her out.

So she decided to help him understand things. “To be really honest, I want to jump you right now.”

His lips parted in surprise.

“But I have two people waiting in my office.” And she also had some serious lust pouring through her. Because Saxon when he was angry and fighting—sexy. Very, very sexy. “So I have to get back to them.” She pushed onto her tip toes. Her lips brushed against his. “But as soon as this work day is over, you’re totally going to be mine,” she told him, voice soft and husky with desire.

Then she pulled away. Turned for the door. She took a few steps—

“Sweetheart, don’t you know…” His rough voice stopped her.

She looked back at him.

“I already am yours.”

***

Victor’s phone rang just as he pulled up in front of the house at 2809 Wiltmore Road. The house that had once belonged to Hugh Rowe. Not that Hugh was supposed to live there any longer. He’d lost the house as he’d lost nearly everything, fighting to get his father released from prison. Now Hugh was supposed to be living and working in Charleston. Except he hadn’t reported to work for a week and a half.

The phone rang again. Someone has bad timing. He reached down and lifted the phone to his ear. “What?” Okay, so that was a pissed-off bark, but he was so close on this mission.

He thought that Zoe Peters might be in that house. It was the only house on the overgrown street. Twisting trees and heavy bushes were everywhere else. This place was his destination—and he couldn’t just sit his ass in the car, talking on the phone. He needed to move.

“I thought you needed to know,” Tracy said softly, “Gary Warren is dead.”

What?

“He came at me during the interrogation. I didn’t have a choice. I-I had to shoot him.”

Hell. His eyes squeezed shut for an instant. “We’ll deal with this when I get back.”

“You need to be back right now! Cops were watching the interrogation, they saw him attack me, but you know FBI Brass will want you here to—”