Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

“Anna Jean,” Drake whispered. One of his hands held the gun—a weapon that was pointed at Skye and Anna Jean. “I see you now.”

“And I see you!” Her words were a scream. “All this time, I thought it was Trace! I couldn’t remember what happened to me—every time I closed my eyes, I saw the snow and the blood and I heard screams.”

Drake took a step forward.

“I lost four toes, Drake! It was so cold out there. You left me in the cold.”

Drake’s face hardened. Emotion—emotion that Skye couldn’t name—burned in his eyes.

“I was in that shit-hole of a hospital for months! Barely living, in pain every single day. And it was because of you!”

“Anna Jean—”

“Don’t!” Anna Jean cried out. The knife sliced across Skye’s throat. Skye felt the wet warmth of her blood sliding down her neck. “Take another step, and you know I’ll cut her throat open. I’ll enjoy doing it.”

Drake didn’t move.

“Trace’s dog tags were left.” Now Anna Jean’s voice was hoarse. “The men who found me, they said he’d been the one.”

“The men who found you,” Drake repeated. In contrast to Anna Jean, his voice was thick with tension. Anger. No, rage. “They were your partners, Anna Jean. They were the men you sent to kill us.”

Anna Jean laughed then. “But here you are, still breathing.”

“So are you,” he pointed out. He still had his gun up, but Skye knew he wouldn’t take the shot, not while Anna Jean was using her as a shield.

This was insane.

“No thanks to you,” Anna Jean said. For an instant, she sounded…lost. “I was going to let you live, Drake. Because I thought you were the one who loved me. But you—you’re the one who left me to die?”

Red stained his cheeks. “You gave me no choice! You tried to kill me!” He sprang forward.

“And you just killed her,” Anna Jean spat back. Her hold on Skye tightened as the blade dug into Skye’s throat.

Chapter Fifteen

Trace grabbed for Noah. He expected to feel a bullet sink into him at any moment.

But it didn’t.

He pulled Noah behind the Jag. His fingers ripped open Noah’s shirt so he could see the damage. The bullet had gone straight through Noah’s chest and out his back.

“Missed…my heart,” Noah muttered. “Saw the glint of the weapon. Dodged just in time.”

The street was still dead silent. Since the shooter had used a silencer, no one else had even been aware of the shots. Trace pulled out his phone and dialed nine-one-one. “You’re going to be all right,” Trace promised him. The guy was bleeding like a stuck pig, and he was as pale as death. Trace was afraid for him. Damn scared, despite his words.

“Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“My friend’s been shot,” Trace told the dispatcher. “I need an ambulance, now.” He snapped out the address.

“Have you seen the shooter, sir?”

Trace glanced up at the apartment. “He fired from one of the apartments. You need to get the cops en route now.”

And if a cop already was on the scene?

“Get…him,” Noah rasped.

Trace hesitated. “I’m not leaving you to bleed out on the street.”

“What if…” Noah’s breath heaved out. “Reese is dying, too?” Another breath shuddered from him. “I’m not…going yet,” Noah promised and gave him a weak smile. “I…envied you too long. I’ll get…what you have.”

“Man, I think you’re delirious.” Trace pulled Noah’s back-up gun from his ankle holster. He wasn’t sure where Noah’s other weapon was. “Can you hold this?” Because if he went up to find the shooter, then he had to know Noah was safe.

“Always.” Noah’s bloody fingers curled around the weapon.

Trace met his stare. “Don’t even think of dying before I get back.”

“It’s not…that bad.”

“No,” Trace lied. “It’s not.”

Noah’s lips curved. “Do me a…favor? No, two?”

Trace nodded.

“Kill the b-bastard.”

“He’s already dead.” The guy just didn’t know it.

“And then…tell Claire I was a fucking rock star…when I got sh-shot.”

“Tell her yourself.” Trace tightened his hold on his weapon. He’d keep covered as much as possible as he ran for the apartment building. But he had to hurry.

If the killer got away, there’d just be another attack. And another. It wouldn’t ever stop. Not until he stopped it.

Trace kept his head low as he ran toward the building.

***