Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(34)
Author: Cynthia Eden

His jaw hardened even more. “I think you are worth it.” That was the problem. She’d inched beneath his skin. Gotten to him when she shouldn’t have ever been able to pierce his armor.

Her dark eyes widened. “Drake?”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Victor said.

“Thank God,” Morley muttered.

He seriously needed a new lawyer. One with some balls.

“But I want this man held until he cools off…” Victor pulled Jasmine away when uniforms surrounded Drake.

“This isn’t over!” Drake called out to her.

She shook her head.

“It isn’t!”

Victor opened the passenger side of the SUV. Jasmine slipped inside, still wearing the cuffs. When the door shut, she glanced back at Drake through the window.

Her hand lifted and touched the glass. Then Victor drove her away.

“Why don’t we go work on that calming down…” Detective Taggert said.

Screw calming down.

Drake didn’t take his eyes off that SUV.

***

When his phone rang, Maxwell knew it was the call he’d been expecting. The cops had been tipped off, the stage had been set…and Drake Archer should be getting a little taste of hell.

“Were the reporters there when Archer was hauled to jail?” he asked as he put the phone to his ear.

“No reporters,” Saxon told him flatly. “And he wasn’t the one the cops brought in. They pulled in Jazz.”

Maxwell shot up. He’d been lounging in bed with a slumberous blonde. Sex always took the edge off for him. The blonde mumbled something and tried to reach for him, so he kicked her ass right out of bed. “Jazz?”

“Only she’s not with the cops now. She just left with an ass**le I think you know…Special Agent Victor Monroe.”

His temples were about to burst. “Monroe has been trying to nail me for years.”

“Yeah, well, he’s got Jazz. And now I’m wondering…is he going to get her to turn on you?”

“She won’t have the chance,” Maxwell vowed. And it was also time that he eliminated Monroe. That bastard had been a thorn in his side for far too long. “Follow them, and wait for orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Saxon had been friends with Jazz, but there was no hesitation in his voice now. Maxwell knew the man realized that Jazz couldn’t be given the chance to turn on them.

Death was her only option.

***

“So how much longer do I have to wear the cuffs?” Jasmine asked Victor as they rolled through the city. The traffic seemed to pass her in a blur. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Being led out in handcuffs was a nice touch.”

“I thought so,” Victor said, voice a bit amused as he kept his eyes on the road. He was taking them away from the busier streets. The traffic around them began to thin. “Made us look all official.”

She looked down at the handcuffs around her wrists. “They’re a little tight.”

“Well, they aren’t supposed to be fashion bracelets.” He braked at a red light and reached for her wrist. A quick turn of his key, and the handcuffs popped off. His fingers slid over her wrists, massaging quickly right before the light changed to green.

The SUV shot forward. This time, they were the only car on the road. Victor knew how to find all the forgotten streets in a city—that was his talent.

We have to vanish, and he’s making that happen.

“How’s your jaw?” she asked him quietly.

“Throbbing like a bitch,” was his immediate reply. “Archer has a killer punch.”

“He boxes,” she heard herself whisper. Her lips quirked at that. “Or at least, he said he did.” Would Drake be surprised to know just how much she knew about boxing? Maybe she’d tell him. Maybe—

He’ll never know. Jasmine swallowed and tried to push the lump in her throat far, far down.

“Jasmine?”

She straightened in her seat. “Th-thanks for not having him arrested.”

“I might be able to use him later. Figured it was to my advantage to have the guy owing me.”

Yes, Victor did like to use people. Use or be used…that was his motto. Always had been. “I’d…prefer that you didn’t.”

His gaze slid to her when he braked at another deserted light. The buildings around them were all old, boarded up. A street that had been forgotten after the hurricane.

“Let him have his life,” Jasmine said. “Just leave him alone.”

Victor laughed at that. “Ah, Jazz, don’t go soft for him. He told me you were little better than trash and that he wanted you out of his life.” He accelerated once more.

Her chest burned. “It doesn’t matter what he said about me. I want you to leave him alone.”

“A little late for you to be making demands, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not because I’m the one here with all of the—”

Gunfire erupted.

The SUV’s front windshield shattered. Jasmine screamed. Victor swore and jerked the wheel to the left, and as the vehicle lurched, a hail of gunfire slammed into Jasmine’s side of the SUV.

“Get down!” Victor yelled.

She was already in the floorboard. “Get us out of here!” Jasmine yelled right back at him.

The SUV’s engine revved and—

Then the vehicle lurched once more. Harder this time.

“Tires,” he snarled. “They shot at—”

The SUV twisted, turned, and Jasmine clamped her lips shut to hold back her screams as they flew toward a tall, metal lamp post.

Then more gunfire erupted…

***

Drake’s foot shoved down the gas pedal as he raced through the back streets of New Orleans. Jasmine and that FBI Agent didn’t have much of a lead time on him. He sure as hell hadn’t planned to stay at the station with Taggert and calm down.

Jasmine had looked so hurt. Victor was a prick, and Drake wanted to do more than just drive his fist into the guy’s face.

Jasmine had been cuffed. Helpless. He’d just wanted to take her away. To protect her.

He turned another corner, his gaze scanning the empty streets. They were gone. Dammit. Finding them now was going to be nearly impossible.

Rat-a-tat.

When he heard the sound of gunfire, Drake didn’t slow down. He sped up even more as his heart thundered in his chest. He cleared the next set of red lights, and then his heart nearly stopped.

The FBI Agent’s SUV was on its side. Glass littered the narrow street, and two armed men—wearing black ski masks—were pulling someone from the wreckage.