Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(63)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Maxwell wasn’t lying. It was a gut shot. And Drake was getting Jasmine that immediate medical attention because she would not be dying on him.

She nodded, her head barely moving against the ground. Her breath was choking out.

I’m so sorry, princess.

He’d failed her, again, and she was about to see just what he truly was.

He slipped the knife from his boot. He always had a weapon on him. Did Jasmine realize that? Probably not. Because she didn’t know all his secrets.

“I want you to stay right there!” Maxwell ordered him. He could hear the man’s footsteps coming closer. “I want you to watch while she dies in front of you. I mean, you watched my Anna Jean die, didn’t you? So it’s only fitting that you watch that treacherous bitch Jazz die, too!”

“I’m…c-cold…” Jasmine whispered.

“I’ll warm you.”

Her gaze flickered to him. “You…already did.”

Drake swallowed and kept the knife concealed. He just needed a few precious seconds to attack his prey.

But Jasmine didn’t have seconds.

The gun shoved into the back of Drake’s head. “Watch her. Stare right at that bitch as she chokes on her blood and you have to—”

Drake lunged up and twisted around in a flash. He knocked the gun out of the bastard’s hand. Then he drove his knife right into Maxwell Case’s heart. “Don’t ever call her a bitch.”

Maxwell’s breath heaved out. His hands clamped around Drake’s arms.

Drake twisted the knife and he smiled. “You should have stayed the hell away from me…and what was mine.”

Then he shoved that bastard to the ground. The knife was still in Maxwell’s heart. Exactly where it belonged.

Drake whirled back to Jasmine. “I’ve got you, princess.” He lifted her. Carried her to the chopper. He strapped her in and used those straps to put as much pressure on the wound as he could. She cried out in pain, and the sound wrenched through him.

Then he jumped forward to grab the controls.

“I don’t…want to die…” Her weak voice.

“You’re not.” He flipped the switches. Called out on his radio. He wanted help. He’d get help. “I’m not losing you.”

He’d already thought she left him once. He couldn’t survive that kind of pain again. He wouldn’t.

The helicopter’s blades whirled and the bird lifted into the dark sky.

***

“You were supposed to have a plan!” Victor stormed into the hospital’s emergency room with his crutch pounding frantically onto the linoleum floor. “You bastard! This is your fault!”

He lunged toward Drake, then stopped short when he saw the blood that covered him. “J-Jasmine’s?”

“Most of it.” He met Victor’s gaze head on. “Maxwell shot her.”

“I heard.” Victor’s voice had lowered. Saxon was beside him. Looking just as furious and scared. “What happened to your shoulder?”

The paramedics had insisted on taking out the bullet. “Nothing.”

Saxon narrowed his eyes on him. “And what happened to that bastard Maxwell?”

“He was waiting for us at the helicopter.”

“You said she’d be safe with you,” Victor gritted. The man’s face was chalk white. His eyes blazed with emotion. “I trusted you with her life! Look what you did!” He dropped the crutch and attacked.

Drake let him take his swings. He knew he had them coming. Them and more.

He didn’t quite expect Victor to have such a strong punch, though. That first hit damn near broke his jaw.

He took the second hit.

The third.

“Fuck man,” Victor snarled. “You won’t even fight me.”

No, he wouldn’t. He looked up at Victor. “Jasmine loves you.” He knew that with certainty. He’d heard it in her voice.

At Drake’s words, Victor’s body shuddered. He whirled away. Nearly fell when his broken leg hit a chair, but then he stumbled away.

The emergency room doors swung open again. This time, Trace and Noah rushed inside. Noah, Christ, he looked terrible.

Probably the same way I look.

“I was supposed to save her.” He’d promised her that.

He’d never wanted to break a promise to Jasmine.

Drake waited for Noah to kick his ass. He deserved his pound of flesh, just like Victor. Instead, Noah just asked, in a voice heavy with pain, “Is she going to live?”

Drake’s hands fisted. “She has to.”

“Where is Maxwell Case?” Saxon snapped.

“Where he fell.” Drake’s jaw locked. “With my knife in his heart.”

Victor stood in the corner. Talking fiercely into his phone. Probably checking with his FBI buddies. They’d find Case’s body. Drake hadn’t missed his mark.

He swallowed and just tasted his own sick fear. “He was at the launch pad. I thought-I thought we’d beat him to the mountains, but he made it here ahead of us.”

Noah just watched him with an unblinking stare.

“That bastard…he killed Quincy.” He’d seen the man’s body near the chopper. “And he just waited for me.” He forced himself to keep looking into Noah’s eyes. “I led her straight to him.” He’d been so certain he could keep her safe.

So wrong.

“I f**ked up.”

Noah clamped a hand over his shoulder.

Drake tried to choke down his fear. “I don’t want to lose her.”

Noah’s hold tightened. “Me, either, man. Me, either.”

Helpless, lost, Drake could only stand there…and wait.

***

Jasmine opened her eyes. “I want…Drake.”

Machines beeped around her. Her body hurt. And she remembered everything that had happened to her. Well, everything up until the moment she’d passed out in the helicopter.

“He’s gone, baby.”

Victor’s voice. Her head turned. Victor was beside her bed. Holding her hand. Looking as if he’d been to hell and back.

“Gone?” Fear whipped through her and the machines around Jasmine began to beep frantically.

“Dammit, look what you did.” Saxon stepped closer to the bed. “He’s not dead, Jazz. Maxwell didn’t get him.” He gave a low whistle. “Your boyfriend pretty much carved that guy’s heart out. You don’t have to worry about any threats from Maxwell ever again.”