He gave a slow nod. “I thought you were dying on the table. I was so furious—”
“Scared,” Saxon tossed out.
“It was Drake’s fault.” Victor’s gaze slowly lifted to meet her stare. “He took you out of the safe house. He’s dangerous. A threat that I couldn’t allow to stand near you anymore.”
She could only shake her head. “Let him go.”
Saxon rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “I told you, Vic, you were losing your mind.” A pause. “What little you had left of it.”
“Drake saved me!” Her throat hurt. Burned. Had they put a tube down her throat? Oh, jeez, she hated those tubes. And…what about her stomach? The gunshot? She didn’t want to look at the damage to the rest of her body. “Let him…go!”
Victor rose to his feet. “You’re…going back to him?”
Always.
But then Victor gave a hard shake of his head. “You can’t.”
He wasn’t going to stop her.
“It’s not safe. You had…other cases, Jazz. Other enemies. We have to make sure that all the threats facing you have been eliminated.”
Once more, she tried to rise in the bed. Moving hurt like a bitch, so she didn’t get very far. Maybe a precious inch.
“You’re not getting out of this hospital any time soon,” Victor’s voice dropped. “And I can’t let you go to him. I can’t put you in the line of fire again.”
“Victor…”
Saxon cut his stare toward his friend. “Get her lover out of FBI custody. Do it now, so that Drake can have time to cool down and not want to kick your ass.”
Oh, Jasmine was pretty sure Drake wouldn’t forget an ass kicking.
And he won’t forget me.
“He gave you some free hits,” Saxon continued, voice flat, “but you know that shit will be over.”
What free hits? Jasmine shook her head. “I think I love him.”
Victor stumbled back as his mouth gaped. “Him? Him? No! We talked about this! You were supposed to fall for an accountant, a doctor. Someone—”
“Safe.”
He nodded.
“Get him out of custody,” Jasmine ordered—or tried to order. Talking seemed to be such an effort, and her eyelids wanted to sag closed. Stupid drugs. She hated them. “Let him know…I’m all right.”
“I will.” It was Saxon who gave that promise.
“But you can’t go to him.” Victor was adamant. “Not until it’s safe.” His voice roughened. “Because I can’t handle seeing you hurt like this, baby. I can’t.”
She struggled to keep her eyes open and on him.
“We might not be blood, but you’re my family,” Victor said. “And I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again. No matter what rules I have to break…or who I have to destroy.”
He sounded so fierce. And so like Drake. “You have…” Her words were slurring because sleep was calling her again. “A lot…in common with him…”
Silence. Then, gruffly, “That’s what scares me.”
It didn’t scare her. She knew Victor was a good man. Deep down. Beneath that dangerous exterior. As for Drake…
I know he’s my man. She’d find her way back to him. Because she wasn’t going to let her chance at happiness slip away. Not now.
***
When Jasmine’s eyes sagged closed, Victor didn’t let go of her hand. She looked too pale against those crisp sheets. Too fragile.
“You won’t be able to keep her away from him,” Saxon warned.
Victor glanced up at the only man he considered his friend. His family. For so long, it had been him, Saxon, and Jazz against the world.
“You sure as hell won’t be able to keep him away from her,” Saxon added, his eyes watchful.
“He got her shot!”
One brow rose. “He flew the chopper that got her to this hospital. He stopped her bleeding. He saved her life.” A pause. “And he carved out the heart of the asshole who hurt her. In my book, that makes him—”
“What?” Victor’s hold tightened on Jasmine’s hand. “Okay? One of the family?”
“If he’s with her, then he is family, whether you like it or not.” His gaze slid toward the closed hospital room door. “So is that other poor bastard out there. The one who won’t stop pacing the hallway.”
Noah York.
“Why didn’t she tell us about him?” He’d thought Jasmine was as alone in the world as they had been. He could still remember the first time he’d met her. His hands had been broken. His ribs cracked. He’d been spitting up blood in that rundown boxing ring. No one else had so much as given him a second glance.
Then her soft hands had been on his shoulders. She’d promised him that everything would be all right.
He’d thought of her as his angel then. An angel who’d gotten caught in hell with him. “I wanted more for her.” That was why he’d worked so hard to get her out of those undercover operations, but Jasmine had kept pushing herself right back in them.
“She likes the danger, just as much as we do.” Now Saxon was looking at Jasmine once more. “Why do you think she was so drawn to Archer?”
Victor had to bite back a snarl. “I don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him,” Saxon murmured as a smile tugged at his lips. “You do have to get his ass out of FBI holding, or else Jazz will rip you a new one when she finally gets out of that hospital bed.”
She wasn’t getting out of that bed anytime soon. He’d read the reports. Felt as if he’d been the one gutted. So much pain. Too much, for her.
“And you know Archer isn’t going to just stay there, anyway. You’re lucky he hasn’t called in some of those high-powered contacts of his and had your ass demoted at the Bureau.”
Victor had wondered about that part himself. “Why didn’t he?” He forced himself to let go of Jazz. She’s going to be okay.
“You blamed him for what happened to her.” Saxon shrugged. “It was obvious the man blamed himself, too.”
And the guy was just staying locked up? “Doesn’t make sense.”
But Saxon had turned away. “It does…if he loves her.”
Victor’s spine snapped up at that. “Archer doesn’t love his women.”
Saxon’s hand was on the door. “I don’t think he has any women any longer. I think he just has…her.”
Victor shook his head. Saxon hadn’t seen the background reports on Archer. He didn’t know about the man’s past. Archer wasn’t going to get heavily involved with someone. He was just—
“Because she loves him, it doesn’t mean we lose her. Blood or no blood, do you think Jasmine would ever turn her back on us?”
Victor didn’t answer.
“So you need to go make peace with Archer. Cause if you don’t, the holidays are going to be shit-ass awkward.” Saxon exhaled heavily. “Now I’ve got to talk with the brother because if I don’t, that guy is gonna tear down this hospital.”
Victor glanced back at Jasmine. “Fuck.”
***
Drake didn’t move when the door opened and Victor walked inside the small office. He stared up at the FBI Agent as his gut clenched. “Jasmine?”
“She’s awake.”
Drake’s heart raced in his chest.
“The doctors expect a full recovery.”
Beneath the table, his hands fisted.
Victor paced toward him. The lower part of his right leg was in a black boot, and there was no sign of his crutch. “Why the hell are you still here?”
She’s awake. A full recovery. “I’m in custody, where else would I be?”
“Don’t feed me that BS. You’re letting the FBI hold you. Why? Why haven’t you used one of your high priced lawyers or pulled one of those puppet strings that you and your pal Weston control—why haven’t you gotten out? Why have you been letting the FBI play guard dog around you?”
Drake inclined his head toward him. “You know why.”
Victor’s hands slammed down on the table. “Jasmine? You expect me to believe you stayed prisoner for her?”
Drake didn’t reply.
“You nearly got her killed. You said you’d keep her safe.” Victor’s words rushed out in a furious barrage. “I let you take her, and then…then the next time I saw her, they had her cut open on an operating room table.”