Mine to Take (Mine 1)

Alex watched Skye walk away, his eyes narrowed.

“She didn’t seem particularly scared to me,” Carol said as she came fully to his side.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Seemed more pissed, judging by the look in her eyes.”

He turned his head and saw that Carol’s gaze was on Skye. He followed Carol’s gaze and watched as Skye climbed into the passenger seat of a waiting car. Her newest guard slammed the door and then headed for the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“You’re sure she went home with Weston last night?” Alex asked Carol. Dammit, he’d warned Skye. Why wouldn’t she take his warnings seriously? He wanted to help her.

But he was starting to think she had a death wish.

“I’m sure that’s where she went. It’s not easy to mistake that guy.”

No, it wasn’t.

“He rushed her out of the club and into that fancy car of his,” Carol said. “They went to his penthouse and stayed in all night.”

I warned her.

“I guess some people like the danger too much,” he said, voice gruff. His sister had been that way. He’d warned her, too.

Warned her, and buried her.

Am I going to bury Skye, too?

“Want me to keep up the detail on her?” Carol asked. Her short, honey blonde hair blew in the faint breeze.

“Yeah, stay close. If you see anything suspicious, you let me know.” Over her shoulder, he saw that the arson investigator was waiting to talk with him.

Like he needed the guy to tell him that the fire had been deliberately set.

That was fucking obvious.

As obvious as the fact that someone was playing a sick game with Skye Sullivan.

A game that wasn’t going to end until Skye was dead.

Just like my sister.

***

This location could work.

Skye gazed around at the old fire station. Okay, sure, most people wouldn’t think this place was primed to be a dance studio…

But this can happen. I can make this work.

Excitement and determination pulsed through her. She’d make this studio even better than the other one had been. She could get started right away. If she worked fast enough, hard enough, then maybe she could even have the studio up and running in three weeks, maybe two.

The building could work, so now she just had to come up with the down payment for the place. She’d already sold all of her jewelry. Her credit cards were maxed out.

But…there were a few people who owed her some favors. People like Robert. Maybe…maybe he could loan her the cash—

“I’m taking over, Adam. You can go now.”

Trace’s voice. She didn’t stiffen. Didn’t start in alarm. Right then, she was too hopeful and happy to stiffen up.

Adam’s footsteps padded away, but Trace’s didn’t come any closer to her.

Determinedly, she glanced to the left. She found him staring at her with a hard intensity in his gaze. “I can put the mirrors there. The barres here.” She gestured with her hands. “The open area in the center will be perfect for dancers’ warm-ups.”

His gaze didn’t leave her face. That lethal intensity didn’t lessen.

Skye swallowed. I can even use the upstairs area for an apartment. That will save me money because I can get rid of my place.

But…she’d just gotten that wonderful security system at her place. She didn’t want to lose it.

“I think you should hold off on your studio,” Trace said flatly.

“No.” An immediate denial. She whirled to fully face him.

He wore a dark suit, one that emphasized the darkness of his hair and made his blue eyes gleam even brighter.

“Yes, Skye,” he said, voice curt. “You need to slow down. Your last place was torched less than twenty-four hours ago. Don’t you think that was a message? It’s not safe for you to do this. You have to—”

“I have to make this work. I have to believe that I can do it.”

Dancing was the only thing that had always gotten her through life.

When she danced, she became someone else. Someone stronger.

Without it…I’m lost.

His hands closed around her shoulders. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I thought I was the one doing this to myself,” she snapped at him. “Isn’t that the story going around now?”

“That story is bullshit.” His fingers tightened on her. “You trust me, and I trust you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted those words. Wanted them so badly.