Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

“I think you needed a warning. Watch yourself, Weston. A jerk like Parker isn’t worth the trouble you can find heading your way.” Then Alex gave him a little salute and turned for the door.

But Trace wasn’t done. “Why did you bring Skye to Parker’s place yesterday?”

Alex glanced back at him. “Because she called me. She wanted to confront Parker, and she wanted me at her side.”

Trace’s heart raced faster.

“She was afraid of what might happen if you got to him before the cops did.” One brow crooked up. “Seems she knows you pretty well.”

She knew I was lying to her.

“Have you learned anything else about Ben Sharpe’s death?” Trace asked the cop.

“Ah, you mean since I’m actually a homicide detective now?” Alex gave him a grim smile. “It wasn’t a robbery gone wrong. The killer worked fast, and he worked efficiently. Obviously, it wasn’t his first kill. First kills are sloppy, unorganized.”

Trace waited.

“This kill was planned and deliberate. Someone wanted Sharpe out of the way.” A low sigh. “At least Sharpe didn’t suffer long.”

“You’re wrong,” Trace said, glancing over at the photograph on his desk. “He suffered for years, but his pain is gone now.”

He kept staring at that photograph, long after Alex left.

Alex had been watching him with a too-careful stare. You think I might have killed Ben Sharpe?

Did Alex realize that his alibi was bull?

Maybe…

His hand pushed into his pocket and he pulled out the dog tag. There should’ve been two tags. There always were.

He’d found one.

Where was the other?

Time to find out just where Parker had gotten this one.

***

Parker glanced over his shoulder as he hurried down the street. Were the cops still following him? He hoped that he’d given them the slip.

Bail. Freaking-A. He couldn’t believe that someone had actually ponied up the money for him.

He rounded the corner, and saw his benefactor waiting on him. Parker smiled. “Sure am glad to be seein’ you again.”

“You told me that Trace Weston would never give up his dancer.”

Parker blinked. The guy sounded angry. He took a quick step toward him. “Weston’s been obsessed with her for years. No way will he ever walk out on her—”

“You tried to kill them the other night.”

Parker’s lips snapped closed.

“That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I got pissed, okay? Seeing them on the TV, all the freakin’ time. Why does he get so much attention?” While Parker had nothing. “Trace is trash. He should be the one in the gutter.” Instead, Parker had to fight for every single thing that he had.

Life hadn’t been easy. No damn way. After Trace’s attack, it had been so tempting to just pop those little pills that would take his pain away. Again and again, he’d taken them.

Then he’d taken other things.

Trace Weston had risen, and Parker had fallen.

“You want him to lose everything, don’t you?”

Parker nodded.

“And you’d do anything to see him fail?”

“Anything…” Parker immediately swore.

“Good.”

His partner—because they were partners, right? Partners in the destruction of Trace Weston—stepped away from the wall. The sounds of the city were muted there, barely trickling past the thick brick walls of the alley.

Parker smiled at him. “What’s our next step? What do we need to—”

A blade shoved into his chest.

A gurgle slipped from Parker’s mouth.

“You need to die, and the world needs to start seeing Weston for the monster that he truly is.”

Parker felt his blood spurt from his chest when the knife jerked back. “Y-you…”

The knife slashed toward his neck. Parker tried to lift up his hands, but it was too late.

He fell to the ground, unable to scream, as the blood poured from him.

“You should die happy, you know. You will help to destroy Weston.”

Then he dropped something onto Parker. But Parker didn’t feel the object connect with him. He didn’t feel much of anything then.