Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

Weston hadn’t wanted him there at all.

He didn’t want me near her.

It was just as bad as Ben had feared. Weston’s weakness was right there, and the man didn’t even realize it.

Skye Sullivan would be his downfall. Weston needed to protect himself, to back the hell away from her.

Before it was too late.

***

Trace shut the bedroom door.

He could smell Skye’s scent on his skin. Sweet vanilla. He could feel her silken flesh beneath his fingers.

He wanted to go back in that room, to wrap his arms around her and hold her through the night.

But first, he had to take care of some unfinished business. Business that would not be allowed to touch Skye.

He hurried down the hallway. Grabbed his phone. In seconds, he had Reese on the line. “Where is he?” Trace demanded.

Lightning flashed outside of his windows. The storm had come up so suddenly.

“He’s about to hop the train. I tried to get the guy to stay at a motel.” Disgust and anger thickened Reese’s voice. “But the fool took a punch at me.”

Trace’s back teeth clenched. “Keep your eyes on him until I can meet up with you. I’m leaving now.” He glanced toward the hall. Skye’s soft heart would be a problem. Because she looked at Ben Sharpe, and she saw her own mother.

But Skye’s mother had been dangerous.

And so was Ben.

You won’t get near Skye again.

Reese was still talking, giving Trace intel about the train and Ben’s location.

Trace left the penthouse. The elevator descended quickly to the parking garage.

Once upon a time—a lifetime ago—he’d saved Ben Sharpe’s life.

Once upon a time…

***

Thunder crashed.

Skye jerked up in bed, her heart racing.

She was alone.

“Trace?”

He didn’t answer her call.

She rose, grabbed for her robe.

She still had on the diamonds. They still felt too cold.

Her fingers closed around the bedroom doorknob. She twisted it, and the door opened with a creak of sound. “Trace?” She tip-toed down the hallway.

He didn’t answer. Lightning flashed just outside of the windows, long jagged streaks of light.

Trace wasn’t there.

Skye stopped in the den, then she turned to the big-picture window, and she watched the storm rage.

***

Another alley.

Ben ran forward, his boots hitting the rain puddles and sending mud flying around him.

He’s tracking me. The bastard is coming after me.

He had to run faster.

His breath sawed from his lungs. For an instant, the buildings around him vanished.

When the thunder rolled, he heard it as gunfire.

Another place, another time.

He looked down, and the mud was gone. The pot-hole filled alley was gone.

He saw snow. Blood. Death.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

The voice whispered from the darkness.

His head jerked up. He reached for the knife at his belt.

Gone.

Weston had taken the weapon. He hadn’t given it back.

Ben reached for his ankle sheath.

Fuck me, gone! He’d left Weston’s place without his weapons. Stupid, stupid mistake.

Ben straightened. “I-I was trying to help—”

A blade shoved into his chest. “You should have stayed away.”

Rain pelted down on Ben.

And his blood dripped into the mud around him.

Chapter Three

“Where were you last night?”

Trace glanced up at the soft question. Skye stood just inside the kitchen, staring at him with her deep green eyes. She had on yoga pants and a loose top.

She looked sexy as sin.

“Trace?” She lifted a dark brow.