Page 137 of Saxon

Silas's girl steps forward—she's on the taller end of medium height, maybe five-eight-ish, with long auburn hair loose around her shoulders. "Hello, I'm Naomi."

Terra steps forward, extends her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Naomi looks at me. "I've heard much about you, Saxon."

I grin. "Can’t say the same, but I've been a little busy." I shake her hand after Terra. "Great to meet you. Your story as fucked up as everyone else's?"

She seems quiet and reserved, but her smile at my question is genuine. "Very much so, yes."

"Well, I look forward to hearing it." I hold her hand, hold her gaze. "He's good to you?"

She softens, turns sweet, her loving gray eyes on my brother. "He saved me. In every way there is."

"Who saved who is a matter of who's doing the telling," Silas says. "And if we're telling stories, you go first."

"Back at the club," I say. "With a drink or ten."

"Hear, hear," Terra says. "I need to get naked wasted, stat."

"Everyone find a seat," Inez says, clapping her hands. "Time to go."

I turn to her. "Wait, hold on. What's up with Sol?"

She shrugs. "The last communication I received from him was yesterday, an encrypted email that went to my spam folder. He's somewhere in South America, alive, and handling his problem."

"Any clue what his problem is?" I press.

"No." She holds her hands out, palms up. "Only that the CIA isn't done with him yet."

I growl. "He needs help. I can fuckin' feel it."

Si turns back and looks at me. "Yeah, I've had the same feeling."

I slam my crutches on the ground. "Fucking leg. Goddammit."

Lash stares around the group. "I will go."

I just laugh. "And find him how? His codename in the agency was WindWalker. You cannot find him if he doesn't wanna be found. That goes for me, too, and that was my fucking job."

Lash smooths his fingers over his mustache. "I have ways others do not, even you. I will find him." He glances at the jet. "I require the very fancy airplane."

I sigh, pull out my burner, call Jean-Paul.

"Oui, my friend? How was the jet?"

"Incredible. Which brings me to my reason for calling—my brother is missing, and I was hoping we could borrow the jet a bit longer."

No hesitation. "Certainly. As long as you wish. I'll contact my pilot and give him orders to take you wherever you wish to go." A pause. "Well, whomever is going, since you're still limited in your mobility."

"Thanks, Jean-Paul. Appreciate it."

"Of course. Do you wish additional resources?"

"Possibly? I'll have Lash call you if he needs something."

"Lash. I'll look for his call."

Lash just stares at me. "I will not need help from the Cabal."