Mine to Crave (Mine 4)

Her head turned at Saxon’s measured voice. He stood near the lone window.

“There’s some action out there.”

Maxwell waved that away. “Drunks. The homeless on the streets. It’s after midnight and they always—”

Saxon stiffened. “They’re armed! I count five—six? I can see them moving across the street!” He spun toward his boss. “They’re coming!”

“No! No, that’s not possible!” Maxwell stormed toward the window. He stared outside. “Fuck, no!”

And then Jasmine started to laugh.

Maxwell whirled to face her.

“I guess my talents are pretty useful.”

He shook his head and stalked toward her.

“Boss…” Saxon began.

Jasmine raised her voice, drowning out Saxon as she said, “There’s no slowing them down. There’s no escape.” Her heart raced. “The Feds are coming for you, and you’re going away for a long time. You’re not going to burn anything. You’re not going to break anyone. And you’re not going to get your precious payback for Anna Jean.”

He was still shaking his head.

“I’ve got you,” Jasmine whispered, and she stopped struggling against her bonds. She wanted to remember this moment. To savor it, as she’d savored few things.

“What?”

“You didn’t even search me when they brought me in. Just tied me up…and talked your mouth off.”

He lunged toward her. Grabbed her shirt. The buttons popped and flew as he ripped that shirt open.

His gaze dropped to her breasts. To the black bra and the small, black wire there.

“Surprise,” Jasmine whispered.

“No!” Rage exploded in his eyes. She thought he’d hurt her then. Attack hard and fast. But he jumped back. “No, this isn’t how it ends for me!” He pointed to Saxon even as he rushed for the door.

Trying to protect yourself? That’s the way it—

“Shoot her!” Maxwell bellowed. “Right in the heart. Kill her and then get your ass out of here.”

After giving that order, Maxwell paused at the threshold of the room. He wants to watch me die. He won’t run, not until I’m dead.

She heaved against the ropes. “Saxon, Saxon, don’t…”

He had out his gun. “I’m sorry, Jazz.”

“Don’t!”

He fired.

***

“You need to stay out here,” Victor told Drake as the FBI agents swarmed the warehouse. “Civilians aren’t clear to hit a crime scene.”

Trace and Noah were at Drake’s side. They were all watching silently, waiting, as the teams entered the building.

“How do you even know she’s still alive?” Drake demanded. “Who’s monitoring the surveillance feed?”

“My best agents are listening to every word. Relax. We’ve got this shit covered.”

The blonde from the police station rushed up to them. “Sir, we lost the feed.”

No.

A gunshot blasted. Drake’s blood froze. He didn’t even realize he’d started running toward that warehouse, not until three agents grabbed him. “She’s in there!” Drake snarled at them. They must’ve heard the gunfire. “He’s hurting her!”

Not Jasmine. She’d been hurt enough…

Scars on perfect skin. Wounds that she never should’ve had.

“Let me get to her!” But they were hauling him back. “Noah, Trace, help me!”

And even though it would probably get their asses arrested, his friends swarmed. They knocked those FBI agents on their asses.

Victor tried to block Drake’s path. Like a guy on crutches was going to stop him. “I’m getting her,” Drake promised.

“It’s too dangerous! A civilian can’t go into that scene. My agents……they’ll get her,” Victor said. Did the guy even hear the doubt in his voice? Because Drake did.

Drake shoved the man aside.

Victor shouted his name. Drake didn’t stop. He didn’t have a weapon, the Feds had made sure of that, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sitting on the sidelines.

Noah and Trace were running with him. The fools that tried to get in their way got thrown to the side—badges or no badges.

Then Drake saw the other FBI agents running out of that building. They were hauling ass. What?

“Bomb!” One yelled. “Clear the area. Clear—”

The explosion sent Drake flying off his feet. He hurtled through the air and slammed down inches away from a light post.

Heat lanced over his skin, and, for a moment, he lay there, stunned.

Then his eyes took in the inferno before him. The warehouse wasn’t just smoking. It was blazing. Fire shot from the windows even as part of the right wall collapsed.

He staggered to his feet. He could feel blood sliding down the side of his face—he vaguely remembered slamming into the pavement.

“Pull back!” Victor shouted. “Pull back!”

Another explosion had fire streaking into the sky.

“Jasmine?” Drake said her name, once, barely recognizing the lost sound of his own voice. Then as he ran toward the fire, he roared her name.

The flames were raging so hot and high. Burning brightly. Destroying everything.

Destroying…her?

Not Jasmine. Not her. Not…her!

“Stop, man! Stop!” Noah was there, fighting to pull Drake away from the fire, but he just wanted to get closer.

“I have to get her out!”

Another window exploded. Glass hit the pavement. Flames crackled.

Noah tightened his hold on Drake. Drake swung at him, connecting with a hard punch, but Noah didn’t let go.

And then Trace was there. They were holding him too tightly, hauling him away from the flames.

“I have to get her out!” The fire was stinging his eyes. Burning his throat.

Ripping a hole in his chest.

Trace’s grip was like iron around him. “She is out, buddy. She’s…she’s gone.”

No. The fuck, no. “Jasmine!” He fought them both. He’d get free. Get through the fire. Get her out of that building.

“Clear the road!” Victor was barking orders.

And Trace and Noah weren’t letting Drake go.

“I have to get to her…” He punched at them, drove his fist hard and fast, not caring that they were his friends. That he was hurting them. “She could still be alive!”

Noah shook him. Slammed his own fist into Drake’s face. “The building is a total loss! There’s no way she’s still alive in there—”

He was going to give up? On her? “She’s your sister!” Drake shouted at him. “We can’t let her burn!”