Rogue - Michele Mannon Page 0,92

don’t touch you soon.”

“I’d say you’re already there,” I reply, before throwing myself into his open arms. “Jesus, Jaxson. You got into it with Hayden? He’s not likely to let this go. And you going through another Hell Camp might not be enough of a consequence. Not for a ruthless, manipulative, misguided bastard like him. You got physical. Why? What did he say?”

I feel his lips on my temple, then his gentle kiss. “Doesn’t matter. He might be a bastard but he’s a smart one. He’ll figure out who exposed TORC. Who ruined a year’s worth of work. You’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

I look up at him, then reach up to lightly touch his swollen cheek. “You defended me? You believe me?”

“Kylie, when I told you we were going to be a thing, I meant every goddamn thing. Trust. Sex. Love.”

I blink. Did he just drop the L word on me?

“Yeah, I trust you. You think I’d let Hayden kick my ass if I didn’t?”

Jaxson releases me, only to scoop me up into his arms. He carries me out of the gymnasium, back inside the main house, and down a long corridor. Kicking open his bedroom door—the one I closed behind me earlier—he stalks inside and deposits me onto his bed.

Then he kicks off his sneakers.

My mouth goes dry with anticipation. God, how I missed him. Yet to my surprise, he climbs into bed then pats the mattress next to him. “I know that you want me, fireball,” he informs me, with a wickedly familiar glimmer in his eyes. Then he adds in a soft, tender tone, “I just need to hold you.”

I can’t get by his side quick enough. “Jaxson,” I breathe.

He rolls into me and wraps an arm around me, drawing me in tight.

Never in a million years would I have said that anything could compete with Jaxson’s prowess in the bedroom . . . beneath trees, on dining-room tables . . . But tonight, he’s fought on my behalf, dropped the mother-loving L word, and is now cuddling with me.

And I’ve never loved him more than in this moment.

Still, I can’t quite relax, knowing how he’s put himself on the line for me. I press my fingers to his puffy lip, and he places a feather kiss to them. “Stop worrying,” he murmurs. “Once I terminate Novák, Hayden will forgive and forget everything.”

“What?” I shriek, sitting up.

“Given the recent threat of exposure, I’ve been ordered to terminate our target.”

“You have.”

Jaxson frowns and pulls himself up beside me. “Is that a question?”

“Novák’s mine,” I hiss. God, I’m furious. Why didn’t Hayden order me do the hit when I had the chance? What did his outside source tell him to change his mind?

“Why does it matter who makes the hit?” Jaxson asks, carefully watching me trying desperately not to turn what was beginning to be a beautiful end to a horrible day into the worst night ever.

“He murdered my father. My pop was sitting out on the front porch, reading a newspaper, and minding his own business, when the Pricks drove by. A drive-by shooting. I heard it happening. Ran outside just as their shiny Mercedes sped off down the street. That’s why I was spying on their compound. I was going to turn them into Homeland Security, since our local police refused to investigate his murder. Then . . . you came along . . . and Hayden promised me revenge.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Fine. We’ll make the hit together. Tomorrow night per Hayden’s instructions.” He places his arm around my shoulder and tugs me into him. “We’ll have to figure out how to draw Novák out of the compound.”

I bite my lip, thinking. “What if I invite my contact to the Palace Motel for a girls’ night out? She’ll be thrilled one wickedly handsome man has crashed our party. I’ll get Novák’s number from her and send him an anonymous text about her trading up for another man. He shows up, we make the hit.”

“What if he brings an army of men with him?”

I think about earlier at the diner, and what Veronica said about him not having an audience hovering about. “I don’t think Novák likes to mix business with pleasure. She says he’s possessive. Chances are he’ll come for her himself.”

“If it’s revenge you want, I’m in.”

I smile. God, in a short time, he knows me well. “We’ll make sure he heads to Franco’s house first. I’ll call the mobster himself to confirm how many