Mine to Crave (22 page)

Gunfire hit the side of the house.

“I’ve never been in love, Drake, but I think…I really think I came close with you.”

“
Jasmine…
” Her name was a growl. “We’re gonna talk about this later. When bastards aren’t
shooting
at us.”

But she knew there wasn’t going to be a later.  “I recognize that guy’s voice. It’s Saxon—he’s…he’s good at his job.” 

“And I’m good at mine.”  He fired again, and she heard a man cry out.

The gun was heavy in her grasp. 

“Burn them out!” That bellow reached her ears and sent ice through her veins.

“Oh, the hell, no, they aren’t,” Drake snarled right back. Then he was firing, again and again.

Jasmine peeked through the window.  Saw the men getting hit by Drake’s bullets—saw the guns being aimed back at her and Drake.

And she saw the flash of flame. What in the hell were they doing?

Then some of those flames started flying toward the cabin.  Something crashed through the window. Exploded.

Molotov cocktail.
Flames licked against the floor. Talk about coming dangerously prepared!

“No!”  Jasmine ran toward the flames and tried to stomp them out.

Drake tackled her and sent her flying back away from the fire. “Are you crazy?” he demanded. “Dammit, princess, you have to be careful—”

“It’s your cabin,” she whispered. “Your grandfather’s cabin…”

And another Molotov cocktail splintered inside.

“And you’re worth more to me,” Drake said, voice fierce, as he rose with her. His gaze locked on a door to the right. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

But Saxon and his men would just be waiting outside.

“Stay close,” Drake told her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

And she didn’t plan to let anyone hurt him.

Drake rushed toward that door. She followed as closely as she could, still holding tightly to that gun he’d given her. A few more feet, then they were bursting through the cabin’s rear door. The light was bright and hard and men were waiting for them.  Drake shoved her to the side just as a bullet blasted right where her head had had been five seconds before. 

Then Drake was firing. Firing and hauling her toward the swamp. Drake hit with deadly accuracy.  She’d never seen anything like him. Men cried out and fell in his wake, and Drake was easily getting them toward the thick safety of the swamp that waited.

Then he ran out of bullets. She saw a man rising, smiling, as he aimed at Drake.

She fired.

She also screamed.

And she hit her target. As the man fell back, Jasmine and Drake rushed into the swamp. She didn’t know where they were going. Didn’t care if they were headed straight into snake central. They were getting away from Maxwell’s goons when she’d been so sure that it was over for her and—

“Hello, Jazz.” 

A hand grabbed her. A strong, callused hand. Saxon yanked her against his body and took her gun in an instant. 

At the man’s voice, Drake spun back around.  His eyes locked on Jasmine.    

“Run,” she told him, desperate. “
Go!”

But he didn’t. He smiled, a smile that chilled, and took a step toward her. 

Jasmine felt a gun press against her temple. “I don’t have orders to kill Jazz here,” Saxon said. “But if you take another step, I will.”

Drake stopped advancing.

“Go,” Jasmine shouted at Drake. “Get out of here!”  Why wasn’t he hauling ass? 

“Kill her, and you’ll be dead five seconds later,” Drake promised Saxon.

She could hear the thunder of footsteps. The men who could still move were giving chase—hunting them in the swamp.

Saxon has just been one step ahead of the others. He usually was.  He’d known they would flee out of the back door. He’d been ready. 

She knew exactly how deadly Saxon could be.  Once upon a time, he’d been her only friend.  She knew him so well…

Well enough to know how this would end. 

The sunlight flickered through the top of the trees and fell on Drake, turning his hair a shade brighter.

“Another time,” Jasmine whispered as she stared into Drake’s eyes, “another place, and things could have been so different.”  She wished they had been different. 

“Move the gun away from her head,” Drake snarled. His body was so tight with fury. She knew he was about to advance and attack Saxon.

And Saxon’s team wasn’t far behind.

“Put your hands up, hero,” Saxon ordered right back. “And get on your knees.”

“Let him go, Saxon,” she whispered. “Just take me, and let Drake go.” 

Saxon laughed.

“Not happening.” Drake’s voice was lethal.

“Maxwell can’t get him,” she told Saxon. “He
can’t.
”

Then she spun in his hold. The gun was still at her head. She stared into her friend’s eyes.
He won’t pull the trigger.
“I want Drake safe,” she whispered to him. “Please, I’m begging you…”

But the others were there then. Surrounding them.  And Jasmine found herself being forced to walk back toward the SUV.
Two
SUVs were there.  A few scattered motorcycles.

Maxwell had sent a full force after them. And now…

Drake was pushed toward the second SUV. 

Saxon hauled Jasmine toward the first one.

“You so much as bruise her,” Drake shouted, “and I’ll make you pay.”

Saxon tilted his head as he studied Drake. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

A gun was at Drake’s back. Another pointed at his head. He smiled.
Smiled.
“No, you’re supposed to know that I’m stating a fact.”

Saxon lifted Jasmine up and tossed her into the SUV.  When another guy tried to climb inside, Saxon barked, “Watch the jerk. I’ve got her.”

The door slammed. She was in the passenger seat of that SUV.  Saxon was in the driver’s seat. He had his gun on her. 

“What in the fiery hell am I supposed to do now?” he whispered to her.

“Saxon…”

“There was a plan, Jazz. A
plan.
Now it’s all screwed.”

Because of her.

“There’s no way out. Not for you. Not for me.” His gaze slid toward Drake.  “And not for him.”

“
Please.”

Would begging even work?

Saxon cranked the vehicle.  “Maxwell’s waiting on you, and sweetheart, what he’s got planned won’t be pretty.” 

***

They were idiots. Fucking idiots. They didn’t cuff Drake’s hands. Didn’t tie him. Didn’t restrain him at all.

They loaded him into the backseat of that SUV. Idiot Number One sat beside him, with a gun shoved into Drake’s side. Idiot Number Two climbed into the front seat and cranked the engine.

“You got him?” Number Two called back.

The gun dug deeper into his side. “Hell, yeah.”

The SUV shot forward, sending mud flying in its wake.

The others were behind them. Still at the scene. Collecting the wounded. Watching the cabin burn.

Assholes. You’ll pay for that fire.

Jasmine was in the SUV in front of him.  He didn’t want to be away from her. Drake needed to make sure she was safe. 

“Hope that piece of ass was worth all the trouble…” Idiot Number One muttered. “Cause you’re gonna be in a world of hurt soon…”

Drake waited until they’d put some distance between the SUVs and the cabin.  Was Trace on his way?  Had to be.  And since there was only one old dirt road that led to his cabin, his buddy might even be waiting for them up ahead. 

“Always thought Jazz would make for a good screw,” Idiot Number One told him.

Slowly, very slowly, Drake turned his head to stare at the man. “She was more than good.”

The guy’s mouth dropped open, then he gave a surprised laugh. “Hell, yeah!” The gun slipped away from Drake’s side, just a few inches. “With that red hair, I knew—”

Drake slammed his head into the man’s face. Then he rammed his elbow into the jerk’s throat. The gun discharged, but Drake had already heaved up, and the bullet blazed past him, shattering the window.  The man in the front seat was yelling, trying to turn and grab his own weapon.

Not going to happen.  Drake surged toward the front seat even as the SUV started to careen toward the trees.

***

“What in the hell…?”

The sound of a crash had Jasmine jerking around in her seat. The second SUV had just plowed into a tree. “Drake!”

Saxon slammed on the brakes. His head snapped back as he glanced at the wreckage behind them.

And as they watched, Drake emerged from the vehicle. Only Drake.

He was armed.

“Interesting new boyfriend you have,” Saxon murmured. He started to lift his own weapon.

Jasmine’s fingers clamped around his wrist. “No, not him.”

Saxon’s gaze held hers.

“Let’s go,” she whispered. “It ends now.”

“Jazz…”

“Not him.” She was pleading again.

“
Give me Jasmine!”
Drake yelled.

Saxon’s foot slammed down onto the gas pedal and they lurched forward. 

She glanced back once more at Drake. He was running after them. Bleeding from a cut high on his cheek.  This would be her last sight of him.

“Thank you,” she told Saxon.

“Don’t thank me.” His voice was hard. “Because you’re going to die.” 

***

Drake ran after the SUV. “
Give her back to me!”

The SUV was flying fast, and Jasmine was vanishing. “No!” Drake roared.

The SUV didn’t stop. 

Neither did he.  He ran back to the wrecked SUV. Shoved the two limp bastards out of the vehicle, got that piece of shit working,  then gave chase.

There was no way that he’d just let Jasmine go back to Maxwell. He knew what the man would do to her. Jasmine would suffer. She’d hurt. Jasmine should never hurt.

He drove as fast as the beat-up SUV could travel, but it just wasn’t fast enough. When he hit the main road, there was no sign of Jasmine. 

Drake glanced to the left. To the right.

He turned right. Tried to floor the SUV, but that was then the thing died on him.  “
Sonofabitch!”
Smoke billowed from under the hood. Drake got out. Started running.

He was still running when Trace and Noah found him. Only they weren’t alone. Detective Taggert was with them.

Their vehicle pulled to a stop right in front of Drake. He stood there, chest heaving, the gun still in his hands.

Trace was the one who approached him first. “Drake…want to tell us what the hell is happening?”

Drake’s gaze slid to Noah.
Her brother.
“They took her.” The words were like knives in his own chest. “I’m sorry…so sorry…
they took her.
”

Slowly, Taggert advanced.  “I need you to lower that gun.”

And he needed Jasmine. “I’ll get her back,” he promised Noah, frantic. “I swear, I’ll get her back.” His gaze shifted to the long, twisting expanse of road.
I’ll get her back.

He’d destroy anyone who tried to stop him. 

Her arms were tied to the chair behind her.  The rope was rough and thick, and it had made her wrists bleed. Jasmine could smell the river, and when she strained really hard, she could even hear the faintest sound of music. Jazz music.

“I expected more from you,” Maxwell said as he walked around her, moving in a slow circle. The guy reminded her of a tiger, closing in on his prey.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Jasmine managed. But she wasn’t sorry. Not at all.

“It was a simple job. Get close to Archer.  Use him. Help me to
wreck
him.”

She hadn’t looked Maxwell in the eyes.  “You-you shouldn’t have set those bombs at the Arrow. Innocent people could’ve died—”

He lunged toward her. Maxwell grabbed the arms of the chair and put his face right in front of hers. “Do you think I give a shit about those people?”

She had to meet his white-hot gaze then. Jasmine shook her head. “I don’t think you care about anyone.” 

“You screwed that up for me. The Arrow should’ve burned—the place was meant to blow—”

“Because of you.” Jasmine wouldn’t let him see her fear.

He smirked at her. “Because of me.” 

“How many others have you attacked?” Jasmine wanted to know, even though she feared the answer. “With your bombs…with fire?”

Laughter was his answer. “Oh, Jazz, I don’t always need those tactics. Destroying a man’s life is easy these days.  A matter of business.” His right hand lifted and picked up a lock of her hair. “I use tools. Tools like you. I hack into accounts. I learn secrets. I use them.”

She hated his touch.  Her gaze slid away from him. Saxon was in the room with them, and he watched impassively from his position near the door. There was no expression on his face.  Not even pity.

And pity had been there before, when he’d tied her up.

“Why did you betray me?”  Maxwell asked her. “I was paying you well.”

“There’s more to life than money,” she murmured.

He stopped stroking her hair. Instead, he yanked it, twisting it in his hold as he jerked her head back. “
Why?
”

Tears stung her eyes. “Why did you want to go after Drake? Because of some dead ex-lover—”

The blow took her by surprise.  The pain was fast and hot, just as fast as his punch had been.

Not a slap.
A punch.

Fury bubbled inside of her because she could taste blood in her mouth.  Jasmine lifted her head up. She saw that Saxon had lunged away from the wall.

She shook her head.

“He told you about Anna Jean,” Maxwell said, his voice as sharp as a knife.  “Did Drake confess to you? Did he tell you how he killed her?”

She had to be so careful what she revealed. “He told me that she’d betrayed his unit and that she came after Trace Weston’s wife—that Anna Jean was crazy and had to be stopped—”

His fist came at her again and Jasmine tensed.

But the blow didn’t land.  Saxon had caught Maxwell’s fist before it could make contact with her again.

***

“We need to be out there!” Drake snarled as he paced the small confines of the interrogation room at the NOPD. “This is bullshit.” He stopped to glare at Trace and Noah. “If it were Claire or Skye, you two bastards would be ripping apart the town.” Instead, they were standing in his way.