Mine to Take (Mine #1)(37)
Author: Cynthia Eden

She shuddered. Nausea rose in her stomach. “Don’t…”

“You called me by his name. When I touched you, you called for him.” His hands slid under her chin, and he shoved her head back. She hit the pole. The impact had her moaning.

“You were my Beauty, and you went to him. After all I’d done…I was the one to heal your leg. I was the one at your side when you walked. I was the one—”

“Who…made me…have the wreck?”

Her brakes…Alex had said…

The nausea deepened. Skye was afraid she’d pass out.

Mitch smiled at her. Terrified her. “It was the only way to get your attention. I couldn’t see you after the shows. I tried. Again and again. Beauty needed her hero to wake her up. I was there, and you couldn’t see me. I had to find a way to make you see me.”

He was a freaking doctor. He shouldn’t have—

“I was supposed to find you that night. Not him. He was always there. Always between us.” Mitch’s fingers dug into her jaw. “But not anymore. Weston is dead.”

Something shut off inside of Skye at those words. She could actually feel the change sweep through her.

Her heart stopped racing.

The nausea faded.

The fear vanished.

If Trace was gone, what happened next didn’t matter.

“You…killed…” Skye whispered.

“I shot him in the heart because he tried to take you away from me. That wasn’t happening. That wasn’t ever going to happen. You belong to me.”

Mitch pulled away. Fumbled in his pocket. “I’ll take the cuffs off. I’ll get you cleaned up, and then we’re going far away from this place. Starting over…”

And he’d said she was the crazy one.

Skye’s body stayed perfectly still as he uncuffed her. She’d long since lost feeling in her fingers.

He rose. “Come on, Skye.”

“I-I can’t stand.”

Silence. Then he reached down for her. He put his arms around her and lifted her up. “See, I can take care of you.” His breath blew lightly over her cheek as he shifted her body to the right.

Her eyes closed. His scent filled her nose. Disinfectant.

Death.

Skye swallowed. “I don’t…want you…to take care…”

Glass shattered. She heard the sound, coming from…above them?

Mitch tried to jerk away from her.

She held him tighter. He killed Trace. “I want…” Skye gathered her strength. Every last bit of it, and she thrust her body fully against his. “I want you…to die…”

The weight of her body sent him falling back, and this time, his head slammed into that metal pole. The crack was loud and wonderful and so perfect to her ears.

Footsteps thundered, sounding close.

“Skye!”

Trace’s voice.

He’s dead.

She dropped to her knees. Mitch was still alive. She couldn’t have that.

“Skye!”

She was still hearing Trace’s voice. She’d finally gone crazy.

The voices came first. That was the way it had been with her mother.

The voices.

She liked hearing Trace’s voice. Maybe being crazy wouldn’t be so bad.

“Fuck, Skye!”

Hands grabbed her, yanked her away from Mitch and—

Now I smell him.

Trace’s scent was rich and warm. Masculine. His arms were around her, squeezing her so tightly, and shudders racked his body.

A hallucination? It was so real and so wonderful.

“Love…you…” Skye managed to whisper.

“Baby, baby, I f**king love you! You’re okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

He was kissing her. Her face. Her cracked lips. Holding her so tightly.

“You’re dead,” she said, so sad about that. Because she’d wanted to see him again. Her Trace.

“No, no, I’m not! Skye, I’m real, and I’m right here.”

She just stared into his eyes.

Fear burned in his gaze. “I’m here. Baby, baby, be here, too. Be here with me.”

A groan came from behind her. Mitch. She hadn’t finished killing him.

The image of Trace shook her. “I found you. You’re going home with me. You’re going to dance, and we’re going to f**k and laugh and be happy. Do you understand? Do you—”

“No,” Mitch’s voice. Snarling. “You’re not!”

She was thrown across the room. Ripped from the arms of her beautiful hallucination and tossed to the floor.

She’d used all of her strength. Skye couldn’t rise.

More footsteps were thundering. Again, coming from upstairs?

Then Skye realized…A basement. She was in a basement.

Her hands flattened on the hard floor. Pinpricks shot through her numb fingers.

“You’re done.” Trace lifted a gun. Pointed it right at Mitch. “You’ll never hurt her again.”

Mitch laughed. Laughed. “You’re the one who hurts her. I keep her safe. I love her—” He lunged forward. There was a knife in his hand. The blade gleamed as it sliced right toward Trace’s chest.

Not a hallucination. That’s Trace. I could smell him. I could touch him. That’s Trace.

She pushed to her knees. “No!” Skye tried to surge forward.

The bullet erupted from Trace’s gun. It drove into Mitch’s chest. But Mitch didn’t stop his attack. He swiped out with his knife.

Trace fired again.

The knife sank into Trace’s shoulder.

Trace fired. Again and again.

The knife dropped from Mitch’s fingers.

Before Mitch could fall, Trace grabbed his bloody shirt-front. “I told you what would happen.”

A gurgle came from Mitch’s lips.

Reese burst into the room.

Trace shoved Mitch away from him. The doctor hit the floor. His eyes were closed. Blood covered him.

Skye was still on her hands and knees. She wanted to move toward Trace, but her body wouldn’t listen to her. She couldn’t move. “Trace!”

He lifted her into his arms. Held her close against his heart. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She wanted to cry, but couldn’t.

Wanted to scream, but her voice was gone.

She could only shake and shudder in his arms. Trace. Trace.

“Let me get her,” Reese said, coming close to them. “Your injured…you shouldn’t…”

“I’ve got her,” was all Trace said. He carried her up the stairs.