Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

Drake swiped away more blood. “I saw the same guy, yesterday, just hanging near her studio.” Drake’s words were musing. “Only then, he drove off in a blue BMW. There was no sign of that ride today.”

Trace’s whole body stiffened.

“Trace…” Skye whispered.

“Broken nose,” Trace repeated. “Blond hair…six foot one…Sonofabitch.”

Drake glanced at him with a raised brow. “So you know the jerkoff in question?”

“A blue BMW crashed into Trace and Skye’s limo last night.” Noah was somber now. “From your description, it sounds like our guy…”

Trace grabbed his jacket. Actually started rushing back toward the door.

She put herself right in his path. “Where are you going?” He couldn’t be leaving.

Trace’s body vibrated with fury. “Don’t you get who did this to us? Who tried to kill us both last night? The broken nose, Skye. The blond hair. The build—don’t you see who this is pointing to?”

She didn’t want to see. “That was a long time ago. Do you really think a man would hold a grudge for that many years?”

“I think a man can want revenge forever.”

“Uh, who are we talking about here?” Noah wanted to know.

“A jerkoff named Parker Jacobs,” Trace’s voice was clipped. His gaze didn’t leave Skye’s face as he said, “I knew I should’ve done more than just beat the shit out of him back then.”

“You don’t know that it was Parker,” Skye said. This was crazy.

“I’ll know,” Drake offered, sounding all helpful. She wanted to punch him. “Show me a picture of this Parker Jacobs, and I’ll tell you in an instant if it’s the man I saw at her studio.”

Skye hadn’t seen Parker in years. She hadn’t wanted to see him.

He’d nearly raped her when she’d been fifteen years old. If Trace hadn’t been there…

Her hero.

And he’d almost killed Parker that night.

Trace headed back to his desk with slow, measured steps. He bent over his computer. Tapped quickly on the keys, and then straightened. “Is that the man?”

Drake leaned in close to stare at the screen. “Yeah, yeah, that’s the guy I saw jump into the BMW yesterday—and he’s the one who was watching Skye today.”

She had to stop this. “We need to call the cops. If Parker did hit us last night, then let’s get them to handle it. Let’s call Alex. Detective Griffin can—”

“All I’m going to do right now is pay our old foster brother a visit. Ask him a few questions.” All of the emotion had vanished from his face and voice. “I’m not going to hurt him. Just talk to the bastard.”

She didn’t believe him. Skye shook her head. “Call the cops,” she said again. “Drake can tell them what he saw. I don’t want you anywhere around Parker, do you understand me?” Because she was scared, so very scared, about what Trace might do.

She didn’t want him to just be a killer.

And Skye was already afraid there might be too much blood on his hands.

Everyone waited in that room. Waited.

The tension thickened.

Then Trace reached for his phone. “Get me Detective Alex Griffin.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“For you, Skye,” Trace said as his gaze lifted to meet hers. “Only for you.”

***

The office door closed softly behind Skye.

“Seriously? You’re just turning that guy over to the cops, knowing that he might have tried to kill you last night?” Drake demanded. His voice was thick with disgust. “Who the hell are you and when did you become so whipped?”

Trace offered him a grim smile. “I put in a call to the detective. I left the information that I had with the desk sergeant. Now, if the powers that be at the Chicago PD can actually find Alex Griffin and relay that information before I get to my dear ex-foster brother, then good damn deal for them.”

Noah whistled. “You’re still going after him.”

“I never said I wouldn’t.” Skye was gone. Before she’d left, Skye had promised that they’d talk at home.

Where Noah and Drake weren’t watching.