Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(51)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Victor’s eyelids flickered slightly.

“If you do, then we need to get moving.” Drake’s hands had fisted in the guy’s shirt. “Now.” Or did the jerk like knowing that Jasmine was in pain?

I don’t. It’s tearing me apart.

“My team will handle her rescue,” Victor said. “I’ve got agents in position now.”

Taggert tapped Drake’s arm. He still didn’t release the FBI agent.

“Tell those agents to act!” Drake nearly roared.

“I will,” the agent snapped back. “As soon as we have Maxwell Case’s confession on record. My man has a wire on in there—this is the chance we’ve been waiting for. We can nail him for so many crimes—”

Drake slammed the guy into the nearest wall. “He’s kidnapped Jasmine! Nail him on that shit! And stop playing with her life!”

Victor’s breath heaved out. “You’re not the only one who cares about Jazz.” His voice was low, pitched to only reach Drake’s ears.

“Jasmine,” he forced out. “Her name is Jasmine, and you’re going to tell me where she is. Right now. I’m not waiting on your team. I’m not waiting on a confession. I’m going to get her out of there.”

A knock sounded at the door. Seconds later, a woman poked her head inside. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face, and her eyes glinted behind the frames of her glasses. “We got him, sir. The confession was recorded.”

Victor’s body sagged. “Warehouse district,” Victor murmured to Drake. “Building thirteen-oh-four. Niles Street.”

Drake lunged for the door.

“By the time you get there,” Victor called after him. “It will all be over! My team has this!”

***

She should have kept her mouth shut then, but Jasmine pushed. “Are you sure Anna Jean wasn’t going to betray you, too? What if she was just going to use your resources, then vanish with Weston’s money? I bet she even had a back-up lover around. Some fall guy waiting in the wings…seems like her style—”

He didn’t punch her then. His hand just dropped to her throat and he squeezed, cutting off the words and her airway. “I don’t want you speaking of her again. Compared to Anna Jean, you’re nothing.”

Story of my life.

“Boss…are you going to use Jazz against Archer?” Saxon’s voice came quietly from behind Maxwell. “Because he sure went crazy when I got away with her.”

His hold tightened even more. Red spots began to dance before Jasmine’s eyes. Her temples were throbbing, the blood surging as he squeezed and squeezed.

Drake, I’m sorry.

He eased his hold. She gulped in air, but those red spots didn’t vanish.

“Does Archer care about you?” Maxwell asked her.

“No.” The one word sounded like a frog’s croak, but she wasn’t about to let this man use her against Drake.

“Will he come for you, try to save you?”

Her chin lifted. “No.”

He swore. “Then what good are you to me?”

She stared into his eyes. “I’m not.”

***

The cars were going too f**king slowly. “Faster, Noah! Dammit, I should’ve driven!”

The police were behind them. Rushing with their lights blazing. They were driving desperately to that warehouse district.

To Jasmine.

Victor had told them that his team on site would be moving in, but Drake intended to be there, too. He had to see Jasmine with his own eyes. Had to hold her and make sure she was safe.

If Maxwell had hurt her…

“Go faster!” Drake snarled again.

“Easy,” Trace said from his position in the back.

Screw easy. “I have to get to her.” He could feel Trace’s eyes on him. Drake turned his head to meet Trace’s stare. “If she’s dead, so is Case.”

Noah whistled. “Man, calm down. The FBI is already there. Your woman is safe.”

Your woman. He knew that was exactly what Jasmine was. Had he really thought he might be able to give her up?

Noah’s sister. Shit. They’d find a way to work all of that out. Maybe he’d let Noah take some swings at him. But Drake wasn’t walking away from her. The fear in his gut told him that he couldn’t walk away.

“Faster,” Drake whispered.

Yeah, he should have driven…but the way his hands were shaking, he was afraid he would’ve wrecked the car and never gotten to Jasmine.

***

“Drake won’t care what happens to me,” Jasmine said softly. Her throat ached. Her jaw ached. And she couldn’t hear the jazz music any longer. “I’m not—”

“Anna Jean? No, you’re not. Not even close. You’re a whore from a trailer park. A woman with a few useful talents.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re a psychotic dick who gets off on blowing things up and killing people. So in comparison, I think I’m the one with more talent.”

He backed up a step. “You didn’t just call me—”

“I did.” Holy crap, she had. “You’re going to kill me, so what does it matter? I see you for exactly what you are. You’re a monster, Maxwell. A monster hiding in the clothes of a man.”

“And Drake?” Spittle flew from his mouth. “What is he?”

It broke her heart but she said, “I thought Drake was my hero.” She’d wanted him to be. “But…but I guess that wasn’t in the cards. He didn’t care about me. I was a woman he took to his bed. By the time my body is found, he probably won’t even remember my name.” Keep talking. Don’t let Maxwell think he can use you against Drake. Because she wasn’t about to let Drake try to trade his life for hers.

Maxwell’s furious expression told her that he believed every word she said. Good. She twisted her hands once more against the ropes. If she could have broken free from those ropes, perhaps she would’ve had a fighting chance.

But maybe she’d never had that.

“Uh, boss…”

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!”