Jaxon (Sabre Security Daddies #8)

Prologue

Eight years ago…

Reid Nolan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

The humid Virginia air clung to him like a second skin after the brutal training session.

His SEAL team had just wrapped up a twelve-mile ruck march, and his muscles burned in that satisfying way that reminded him he was still alive, still pushing.

Back in the barracks, he reached into his locker to grab a towel.

A sharp buzzing sound startled him enough to jerk his hand back.

“Dumb fuck,” he muttered to himself. It was just his phone vibrating against the metal of the locker.

Jaxon’s name flashed on the screen. Reid grinned, thumbing the accept button.

“About time you called, you FBI pretty boy,” Reid said, his voice laced with the easy ribbing they’d shared since high school. “What’s it been, six months? You forget how to use a phone, or are you too busy chasing skirts in D.C.?”

Silence stretched on the other end. Reid’s grin faded. Jaxon’s breath was ragged, like he’d been running.

“Reid,” Jaxon said.

With that one word, Reid straightened up, every muscle tensing and every nerve sharpening into focus. Something was very wrong.

“I’m in trouble.” Jaxon continued.

Reid leaned against the locker, noting the difference in Jaxon’s tone of voice. Defeat was something he couldn’t recall ever hearing from Jaxon. “Talk.”

Jaxon let out a breath. “I got arrested. Possession with intent to distribute Fentanyl. A lot of it.”

Reid grimaced. “What the hell? You’re FBI. That doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t. I was undercover on a sting operation, posing as a dealer to deliver to a drop point where my team was supposed to swoop in and take down the ring.

Big shipment—enough to kill half a state.

But local cops pulled me over on a back road near Howler.

You remember that scumbag AG they call the General?

I’m pretty sure he’s involved. Evidently, he’s up for re-election and needs a big arrest to campaign on.

Cops used the pretense of a busted taillight to stop me, then busted it when they approached my driver’s side window.

When I reached for my badge to straighten things out, they drew down on me, claiming I was going for a gun.

After ordering me out of the car at gunpoint, they searched the car, found the drugs, and cuffed me. ”

Reid paced the narrow aisle between lockers. “Your handler should’ve cleared it up. FBI ops override local bullshit.”

“That’s the thing. When the feds showed up, they acted like they knew nothing about the delivery.

And the drugs… Reid, they were from a bust I made months ago.

I confiscated them myself and turned them over to the evidence lockup.

Now they’re saying I stole them. All I did was pick them up from the contact I was instructed to use for the sting.

Reid stopped pacing. “But they’ll get this cleared up, right? You’re innocent.”

“Damn right I am. My problem is that it doesn’t look that way.

Hell, the evidence is stacking against me—chain of custody logs doctored, witnesses I’ve never seen testifying about deals I never made.

Some woman swore the car I was in was one I stole from her.

I just… I needed to talk to someone. Didn’t have anyone else to call. ”

“You’re on trial? Why the hell didn’t you call me before now?

” Jaxon didn’t answer. Reid didn’t need him to.

Jaxon had always been the straight arrow, the one who joined the Bureau because he believed in the system.

But he was always the guy who had to take care of things himself.

Reid knew how desperate the situation must be for Jaxon to call.

“What about your lawyer? You got representation, right?”

“Some hotshot from California. Dorne or Thorne… Phillip Thorne, I think. Supposed to be the best. But the guy’s a ghost. Won’t return calls, dodges meetings. I’m starting to get a bad feeling, Reid. The judge denied my request for a new lawyer. I think I’m going down for this.”

Reid spoke with grim determination. “Hang in there. I’ll figure something out.”

Before they hung up, Jaxon gave him the details about where the trial was taking place and which jail he was being held in.

Reid stood there, the locker room noise fading to a hum. Jaxon’s voice echoed in his head, haunted, broken. The guy who’d been like a little brother, the one Sarge had pulled into their circle back in Darling, was in trouble and needed his help. Reid would not let this stand.

He made the call to his CO that night. Paperwork to separate from the Navy started the next day.

Honorable discharge. He’d served his time, earned his trident, and although he was seriously considering staying in, it wasn’t the only plan he’d been contemplating.

Jaxon’s situation was going to take longer than an extended leave.

Sarge always taught him that family came first. And Jaxon was family.

Next, he dialed Gage Buchanan. Gage was on a SEAL sniper team, deployed stateside for training. Reid was hoping that his old grade school classmate hadn’t been deployed again. With the SEALs, you never knew.

“Reid,” Gage answered on the first ring, voice steady as always.

Reid wasted no time on pleasantries. “We need to talk. Jaxon’s in deep shit.” Reid laid it out. The arrest, the setup, the bad lawyer. “He’s being railroaded. I’m headed to Darling as soon as I get my paperwork started.”

“I’ll take leave too, and be there as soon as I can.”

“I’m not taking leave,” Reid said. “I’m getting out. Leave won’t be enough to set this straight. You do what you think is right. No one will hold it against you. Even if you can only stay for a few days, it’ll help.”

“A few days, my ass,” Gage growled. “What do you think Sarge would say about a few days?”

Reid managed a smile at the thought.

“Don’t worry about my leave. I’ll start my paperwork and see you there,” Gage said and hung up.

Next was Jedidiah Hutchinson—Hutch, another fellow SEAL, built like a tank. He was always the one pulling pranks to boost morale. Fortunately, Hutch also picked up the phone.

After hearing the story, Hutch went quiet, then cursed low. “That kid doesn’t deserve this. I’m in. I was ready to get out anyway.”

It was a lie, but Reid knew Hutch felt the same way he did about Jaxon.

Connor Davis had transitioned to NCIS after his Navy MP days, investigating crimes on bases and ships. He was next on the list.

“Connor, it’s Reid.”

“Long time. What’s wrong?”

Connor’s response was immediate fury. “I worked that case with Jaxon last year. The human trafficking angle was tied to that drug ring. Lawson Young showed up. We both warned Jaxon to be careful. There were a lot of dangerous players with connections to powerful people involved. We had already been waved off the case by higher-ups. If this is linked, he’s screwed. I’ll be there soon.”

Reid spoke with Lawson Young and Deke Winters. Now they were headed home, too. Law was a covert ops diver for the SEALs, ass deep in top secret operations. Deke had a Green Beret background. Their experiences would come in handy for the plan Reid was beginning to form.

Last was Sawyer Dorsey, a CIA black ops agent. This time, his luck ran out. Sawyer was on an op, so Reid left a voicemail. “Sawyer, it’s Reid. Jaxon Ruick’s in trouble, framed on drug charges. I’m getting out, heading home. So is everyone else. Need you there, man. Need your skills. Call me back.”

Reid lay back in his bunk, staring at the ceiling.

These men weren’t just friends. They were brothers, forged in the fire of the abusive and dysfunctional homes they’d been born into.

Reid had been fortunate to have Sarge, a retired Marine drill sergeant, and his stepdad.

Sarge had seen the lost kids back when they were in high school.

He’d seen the way they were headed and took them in one by one

Sarge had turned their backyard into a training ground. Drills at dawn, push-ups until they dropped, lessons on marksmanship and hand-to-hand. But it wasn’t just about strength.

Sarge taught them to be men. Alphas who protected the vulnerable, who stood tall when others folded.

They also learned about being Daddies. The kind who cherished their Littles, provided structure, and loved without limits.

“A real man knows to be gentle,” Sarge used to say, “but he’ll burn the world down to keep his own safe. ”

Sarge had saved them. Now it was their turn to save one of their own.

The discharge came through faster than expected. Connections in the ranks helped. He drove straight to Darling, cursing the time it had taken to process out of the military and every mile between him and the Tennessee hills rising around him like old sentinels.

Several times, he’d tried to call and get back to Jaxon, but it went to voicemail every time. By the time he arrived in Darling, it was too late.

The trial had wrapped up. Jaxon had been convicted, found guilty on all counts. Fifty years in Ridge County Correctional Facility awaited him. Maximum security.

Reid visited him the next day. Jaxon’s hollow look made him appear older than his years, weighed down by a future bereft of hope.

“Didn’t fight it,” Jaxon said quietly. “I couldn’t.”

It took all Reid had in him not to demand a full explanation. He needed to know why Jaxon would apparently capitulate to the thugs who framed him. Instead, he pressed his hand to the partition. “We’ll get you out, brother. We won’t stop until you’re home.”

Jaxon just nodded, eyes distant. The others visited Jaxon over the next few weeks. Gage first, fresh from his sniper post, eyes sharp and ready. Hutch rolled in on his Harley, duffel slung over his shoulder. Connor arrived with files under his arm, already digging into NCIS contacts.

Law slipped into town quiet, like he always did. Deke drove up in his truck, face set. Sawyer appeared one night at Reid’s door, shadows under his eyes from whatever op he’d just left.

They gathered in the cramped apartment Reid had rented, and listened as he laid out his plan to get Jaxon released. “We’re not letting him rot.”

He’d repeated that phrase to all of them until it had almost become a motto. Now it was time to explain how they‘d do it and how they’d be able to afford it.

Gage was first off the mark. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m starting a private security firm. I’ve already started getting the permits we’ll need. It will be a legit business, but we’ll also use it to investigate what happened to Jaxon. We’ll gather the evidence we need to expose the frame and get him back home.”

Considering their individual backgrounds, it made complete sense, and everyone knew it. Over the next few hours, they ironed out the initial steps.

Reid found a warehouse on the edge of town—two stories, solid brick. He bought it outright with a combination of his savings and a loan from some of Sarge’s old buddies who had kept in touch.

The first floor became the Deep Dive Bar.

It was a place for locals, and a front for meetings.

A typical Tennessee dive bar, complete with dim lights, worn booths, and a long oak bar where they would blend into the background.

It would be the perfect cover for their activities and provide some additional revenue as well.

The second floor would be Sabre Security.

Reid planned to gut the whole floor and create the offices they needed.

He was leaving most of it one open space.

He didn’t have a lot of definite plans, but he knew the centre of the operation would be a massive conference table where they could hash things out together.

Eventually, he’d turn it into a modern investigative center, with computers and communications equipment, everything they needed to get Jaxon cleared. There was even a place for a gym in the corner for training. Hallways led to other offices, a kitchen, and bathrooms.

It didn’t take long for every member of the team to add their own suggestions about specific things they wanted included.

The plans had nearly been finished when Deke approached him. “What are we putting here?” He pointed to an unlabeled room on the plans.

“It’s only the most important room in the building,” Reid said.

Deke scratched his head. “Uhhhh…. an interrogation room?”

Reid laughed. “Not exactly, this is for the future. Our future.”

Deke continued to stare at the plans, confusion still written on his face. “Okay, I give up.”

“It’s the room for our Littles,” Reid said, as if anyone could have guessed that.

“But we don’t have any Littles.”

“Not yet, Deke, not yet.”

A huge grin spread across Deke’s face. “I guess we’d better get busy.”

Later that night, beers in hand, they toasted to the hard work and to the purpose for which it had all been done. “To Jaxon,” Reid said, raising his bottle.

The clink echoed. “A free Jaxon,” Gage added.

Hutch nodded. “Whatever it takes.” To that, everyone raised their glasses.

Connor leaned forward, breaking the quiet that had followed the toast. “I’ve got leads on the trafficking angle.”

Law added, “I’ll handle covert recon on the DA.”

Deke cracked his knuckles. “I’m the muscle. I have a feeling we’re gonna need it.”

Sawyer tapped his laptop. “Hacks and intel.”

Reid looked at each of them. All his brothers. Sarge’s legacy. “And we don’t stop until he’s home.”