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Mine to Hold


Gwen searched her eyes. “I’m worried about you.”


“Because I’m seeing dead men?”


“Because you have a very dangerous taste in men.”


Claire flinched. “No, I don’t.” She turned and started pacing toward the window. She eased out of her coat, tossed it onto the couch. She started to remove her gloves. “I don’t have…”


Claire’s words trailed away. Her picture was on the floor. The picture of Claire, Sara, and her parents—the only thing that had been salvaged from her time at the Hamlet Hotel. The frame was gone, and the photo…there were large X’s on all the faces. An X on Sara’s face. An X on Claire’s mother. An X on her father.


An X on me.


“Claire?” Gwen continued. “I’m worried because you could be in trouble, and you don’t even realize—”


She grabbed the photo from the floor. “He was here.” She whirled toward Gwen. “He was here—”


Claire saw the gun. The one aimed right at the back of Gwen’s head. Gwen was looking at Claire. The detective didn’t see the threat behind her.


Claire screamed and lunged forward. Her body collided with Gwen’s and they slammed into the floor. There was no explosion of sound, no blast as the gun fired but…


“Gwen?” Claire whispered. She’d tried to move so fast. Her trembling hand touched Gwen’s head, and she felt the sticky wetness of blood.


There was no blast because a silencer was on the gun.


“You weren’t fast enough, Claire.” The dark, rumbling voice mocked her.


She looked up and saw that, this time, the gun was pointed straight at her.


***


Noah paused in front of the elevator. “You coming up, detective?”


Lane gave him a grim smile. “I think I’ll wait down here. There are a few of your staff members that I wanted to chat with.”


The guy was so obvious. “I know you came to grill them, just like I know your partner is up there questioning Claire right now.” The cop was probably trying to make Claire feel more comfortable by questioning her in a place that would put Claire at ease.


No interrogation room for her, huh? Trying a different approach?


Lane seemed to brace his body as he studied Noah. “Your lawyer got you out of there, but that doesn’t mean you’re free.”


“You need to get your ass back on a plane to D.C.,” Noah told him bluntly. He stepped onto the elevator. “I think you’ve worn out your welcome in New York.”


The doors began to close.


Lane’s hand flew out and stopped that closure as he curled his fingers around the door on the left. “Do you think Claire saw Ethan Harrison today?”


Noah stared back at him.


“I mean, if my lover told me that the man who tried to kill her, the man who murdered her parents…if she told me that asshole had been in town, standing less than thirty feet from her, I’d freak the hell out,” Lane said.


“Move your hand.” Or I’ll move it for you.


“But your buddy Weston didn’t see the guy, did he? Just Claire, and I don’t exactly see you freaking the hell out.”


“Because I’m not the type to do that.” I need to get upstairs to Claire.


“Or else you don’t believe her. Do you think she’s having another breakdown? Is all the stress too much for her?”


“Claire isn’t going to break.” Anger hummed in his words.


“She did before. And they barely got her to the hospital in time.”


“Move. Your. Hand.”


Lane shook his head. “You didn’t answer me.”


The sonofabitch was pushing too far—


“Mr. York!” Janelle’s frantic voice caught Noah’s attention. He looked over Lane’s shoulder and saw Janelle, running toward him. All of the color was gone from her face.


Noah shoved Lane out of his way. “What’s happening?”


“G-Greg…one of our bellmen…I just found him…” Janelle’s fingers were shaking as she pointed toward the staff door on the far right. “Someone shot him. In the head. H-he’s dead.”


Lane immediately lunged toward the staff door.


But Noah spun around and leapt back into the elevator.


He only had one thought.


Claire.


***


The light glinted off the gunman’s blond hair. His green eyes gleamed at her. “You’re on your knees again, Claire, and there’s a gun pointed at your head. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”


Her left hand was still pressed to Gwen’s head, but her right was beside the cop’s body. Just inches from Gwen’s holster. “Why are you doing this?” Claire whispered as she looked up at the killer—


Not Ethan Harrison.


Austin. Austin Harrison.


The good brother smiled down at her. “You ruined my life, Claire.”


She shook her head.


Rage flashed across his face. “Yes! You did! You destroyed everything.”


“I-I never wanted Ethan to—”


“Say his name again, and I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”


She stared at the gun. A long silencer covered the tip of the weapon. “Aren’t you planning to do that, anyway?”


“Actually…no.” He motioned with the weapon. “Get up. I’m not my brother. I don’t need you to beg me.”


She rose. Claire kept her right hand behind the leg of her pants.


“You just killed a cop.” He shook his head. “You should never have gotten out of that mental health facility all those years ago. You just aren’t well.”


“I-I didn’t kill anyone.”


“You fucking killed me!” His rage exploded again. “You ruined my life! My family lost everything because of you!”


“I lost my family,” Claire said, keeping her voice low. He didn’t realize that Gwen was still alive. Claire did. The blood matted Gwen’s hair, but the wound wasn’t deep. Claire had knocked the cop aside in time. The bullet had grazed over her, but it hadn’t driven into Gwen’s skull. She just needed to keep Austin from realizing that Gwen was still alive. Because if he discovered the truth, Claire knew he’d shoot the cop again in an instant.

“Your family was trash. They didn’t matter.”


Her eyes narrowed. Don’t talk about my family that way. “They weren’t murderers so I’d say they mattered a whole hell of a lot more than the Harrison clan.”


“You should have just let him screw you! Until he was done!” Spittle flew from Austin’s mouth. “Then he would’ve walked away. Ethan liked to be the one to leave. It gave him—”


“Power,” Claire finished.


Because power was so important to the Harrisons.


“You broke him. And when Ethan fell, he took my father down with him.” His smile flashed again, chilling her. “Of course, the old man always was a twisted bastard. Didn’t realize quite how much, not until Ethan told me…”


The gun was inches from her chest.


“Walk toward the balcony.” He jerked the weapon toward the balcony door. “It’s a phenomenal view out there. A real helpful bellman let me see it earlier. I flashed some cash and got a free pass up here.” He licked his lips. “Did I mention that folks here are bribed too easily? No matter. I made sure to tie up those loose ends this time.”


Claire walked, backward, toward the balcony. Her hands were still down.


“I was supposed to be president.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I was groomed for that position. I spent so many years being perfect for that.”


She didn’t speak.


“Then the dream was gone. Scandal was all my family knew. Scandal because of you.”


“I thought—I thought you wanted to help me. In the hospital…”


“I wanted you to vanish. I figured that if you disappeared, there would still be some hope for me.”


Claire opened the door and slipped out onto the balcony. It was cold out there, and the wind sent her hair whipping around her face.


“It’s a killer view, isn’t it?” Austin asked as he followed her out.


Claire glanced over and saw the lights of the city below. Killer.


“My father drained our fortune tracking you. Trying to free Ethan. He used all of his money, and even though I was working my ass off, he took mine, too, and I had nothing.”


“Austin, you—you don’t need to—”


“I know exactly what I need to do. I need to get rid of the problems in my life. I need to be free. It’s time for my new start.” His shoulders straightened. His hold on the gun was rock-steady. “That’s what I’ve been doing, you see. Cleaning house. My father was a dead weight, so I had to get rid of him.”


Her breath choked out.


“He never would’ve stopped. He would have bled me bone dry as he tried to free Ethan, but that just couldn’t happen. If Ethan ever got out, hell, he’d go after you again, and the scandal would be even worse.”


“You’re here with a gun. You just shot a cop.” He’s crazy. “You think the scandal isn’t going to be bad from this? You need to think again.”


He laughed. “Ah, Claire, I didn’t shoot a cop. You did.” He lifted the gun, and she saw that he wore black gloves. “No fingerprints from me, and you…you’re wearing gloves right now because it was cold outside and you didn’t get the chance to take them off when you came back to the suite.”


He was right.


“You shot the cop because she realized you had killed Senator Harrison and his PI, Sloan. And after you shot her, you panicked. You knew there was no escape, so you did the only thing you could do…you then took your own life.”


A dull ringing filled Claire’s ears. “No.”


“You tried suicide before. You just didn’t try hard enough.” He nodded toward her. “Don’t worry. You’ll do better this time. A jump from this height will make sure you end up in the morgue.”


“Y-you said you had help in the hotel.” A bellman. “The cops will find him. The cops will get him to talk and—”


“The dead don’t talk.”


His words had her heartbeat stuttering.


“And, by the way,” he added darkly, “you killed the bellman, too. Even used this same gun for the crime.”


Claire wouldn’t look over the edge of the balcony again. “Why would I have killed him? I don’t—”


“You’re crazy, Claire. You’ve been seeing my dead brother this week. Getting phone calls from him.” He laughed. “Talk about perfect timing! When I heard that shit, I couldn’t believe how wonderfully things were falling into place.”


Her heartbeat shook her chest. “Don’t do this. Please.”


“I’m not doing it. You are. You killed all those folks. And now, you’re going to jump over the edge of that balcony, and you’re going to kill yourself.”


“I-I won’t do it.”


“You’ve hurt enough people.” He advanced toward her with slow, gliding steps. “It’s time for the nightmare to be over. You caused all of this—”


“No!”


“Now you’ll be the one to end it.”


She braced herself. Where was Noah? He’d been downstairs, talking with Lane. Noah should be coming up to the suite at any moment.


Would Austin shoot Noah, too?


Claire couldn’t let that happen. “I’m not going to jump.”


“Yes, you will.” His grin flashed. “Because if you don’t, I’ll go downstairs. I’ll find your lover. And I’ll put a bullet in his brain.”


A tear slipped down Claire’s cheek. “You were the one who planted the bomb at his other hotel.”


“What?” His brows rose. “Damn, maybe you are crazy.”


No, he was. “You’ve been planning to kill Noah all along.”


“You destroyed everything, Claire! I had a great future. I could’ve had—”


Claire lifted the gun that she’d taken from Gwen’s holster. She’d hidden that gun so carefully.


Not anymore.


Austin’s mouth hung open as he stared at the weapon.


“I’m not going over that balcony,” Claire told him. The weapon was shaking in her grip. “And you’re not going to hurt Noah.”


His gaze dipped to the weapon, then back to her face. He laughed at her. “You don’t have what it takes to pull that trigger.”


“I do.” Actually, it was taking all of her strength not to pull it right then. “I’ve lost everyone close to me. My parents. My sister. I won’t lose Noah. I’d do anything to protect him.” Claire pulled in a deep breath. “So drop your weapon, or I will shoot you.”


He took another step toward her. “You bitch! You don’t get to tell me what—”


“Claire!” Noah’s roar reached them, spilling through the open balcony door.


Claire didn’t take her eyes off Austin. “You’re going to be arrested,” Claire told him. “Gwen’s not dead. She’ll recover. She’ll tell everyone it wasn’t me who shot her. She’ll—”


“I’m not going to jail!”


“Yes, you are. You’re going to jail just like Ethan did. Your whole family—you’re the crazy ones!”


Then Noah was there. He ran onto the balcony. “Claire!”

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