Mine to Crave (Mine 4)

“He wants Jasmine,” Drake said. “And I need you both to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I’m guessing his men were the ones shooting up her SUV?” Trace threw out.

Drake nodded.

Jasmine straightened in her chair.

“You guys can’t go after Maxwell.” That comment had all their eyes turning back to her. “You can’t,” she said, wondering if perhaps the men were a bit crazy. Or a lot crazy. “You all need to get out of town and let-let the FBI handle things.”

“You mean your buddy Victor Monroe?” Drake’s voice was flat. “Because you told him what was happening, didn’t you?”

Victor knew plenty. “He’s with the FBI. I figured he was my safest bet.”

“Didn’t look safe to me,” Drake said, hands tight at his sides. “When he was trapped in that SUV and you were being hauled into that van.”

She shot up from the chair. “We were ambushed!” That hadn’t been Victor’s fault.

“And he should have done a better job of keeping you safe, ambush or no ambush!”

“Uh, excuse me…” Noah murmured.

“Victor is a great FBI agent,” Jasmine defended fiercely. “He’s one of the most decent men I know and he’s—”

“Another lover?”

She had not seen that one coming. Jasmine’s jaw dropped.

“No handcuffs,” Drake pointed out. “And I don’t think he calls most of his suspects ‘baby’ but I could be wrong.”

This wasn’t a conversation that she wanted to have in front of Trace and Noah, and those two were avidly watching.

Why am I trying to pretend? She was sure that Trace had already briefed Noah on all the information he’d discovered about her.

Daughter of a prostitute.

Did Trace know that? Yes, yes, of course he does…

Teenage runaway.

Hacker.

She drew herself up to her full height. But her toes curled in the carpet. “Just to be clear, I haven’t slept with Victor or with Maxwell.” She pointed at Trace. “And I don’t care what your intel says. Intel can be wrong. It’s wrong this time.” Her glare swept back to Drake. “You’re my lover. The only one I’ve had in a very long time, and you know what? That shit should be private! I shouldn’t be having to explain and justify myself to you and your buddies!” Chest heaving, she turned on her heel. “Now I’m tired. I was shot at, nearly abducted, and then, well, you know what went down in that elevator. I’m going to bed, and I don’t want anyone so much as knocking on that door for the next two hours.” Jasmine didn’t glance back over her shoulder as she gave that order.

Her knees didn’t knock as she made her way to the bedroom. She slammed the door behind her. A nice touch, at least, Jasmine thought so.

When the door closed, yes, her knees definitely trembled then. And her gaze flew around the room.

I have to get out of here.

Because she had to stop Drake and his buddies before they all wound up dead.

Jasmine inched toward the air vent in the corner. No way could she fit in there. That just left the doors that lead out onto the balcony…

The balcony. Being as quiet as possible, Jasmine opened the French doors that led outside. She tip-toed onto the balcony. They were about ten stories up. She could see the flash of cars below her. So very far below her.

Not like she had a choice, though. Jasmine squared her shoulders and inched closer to the edge of that balcony.

***

“So…out of curiosity…what did go down in the elevator?” Trace asked, him voice mild.

“Shut the hell up,” Drake fired at him. His gaze was on the closed bedroom door. There had been something about Jasmine’s expression when she stormed away…

Noah strode closer to him. “Give the woman a few minutes to rest. She looked exhausted.” He cocked a brow. “And since when are you the kind of guy who wants to keep twenty-four seven tabs on a woman, anyway?”

“Since he met a woman who tried to rob him blind.” Trace dropped onto Drake’s couch. “And trust me, with a woman like her, you’re gonna need to keep watching, carefully.”

Drake narrowed his eyes on his friend. “A woman like her?”

“Sexy, smart, and dangerous.”

Noah’s hand slapped down on Drake’s shoulder. “Ah, that makes her just your type, right? Women with an edge are always more interesting.”

Drake growled at him.

Noah sobered. “Though I am a bit confused. If some jerks were hauling her into a van, how’d you get her away from them—”

“I shot one of them.”

Noah and Trace exchanged a long look.

What? “I wasn’t going to let them kill her.”

“But obviously they wanted her alive,” Trace pointed out, “or else they would’ve killed her on sight.”

For an instant, Drake saw red. The red of Jasmine’s blood. “He wanted to take her away so he could torture her. So he could hurt her because she was helping me. Everything that he wants to do to Jasmine, every pain, is because of me.” Then, softer, “And Anna Jean. He wants to pay me back, and he’s going to use Jasmine to do it.”

Trace’s fingers drummed on the couch as Drake paced the room. “She’s no innocent. Her file—”

“Screw the file! She took nothing. She helped me.” His gaze swung back to the closed bedroom door. “And I will help her. I’m not going to let Maxwell get anywhere near her.”

“That would be where I come in,” Noah said with a slight nod. “Am I still supposed to be the woman’s ride out of town?”

Drake knew the cops would be monitoring his movements, so he’d decided that it would be best for Jasmine to slip away with Noah. “Yes. You fly her to New York. I’ll be there as soon as things are cleared up down here.”

Noah tilted his head toward Drake. “You mean as soon as you eliminate the threat posed by Maxwell Case.”

Drake stared back at him. He thought that was obvious.

“You can’t kill a man in cold blood,” Trace said.

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Drake stopped pacing. “For your precious Skye, just what would you do, Trace? What have you done?”

Trace’s mouth tightened.

“Trace loves Skye,” Noah said, voice soft, thoughtful. “Are you saying that you have…feelings for this woman? Do you love her?”

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Love has nothing to do with this.”

***

Wind whipped against Jasmine’s body as she stood on the balcony. Her hands gripped the edges of the railing. It was high. It was terrifyingly high.