Mine to Crave

by Cynthia Eden

  do.” Because he was going to do exactly what had to be done.

  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 fucked 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.”

  She pulled in a deep breath.

  “As for Drake…Vic here got the guy taken into custody. Some BS about obstructing a federal investigation.” Anger hummed in Saxon’s words. “He had your man dragged out of here in handcuffs.”

  Jasmine tried to sit up—and failed. “You…didn’t.”

  Victor’s hold tightened on her hand. “I think I went a little crazy,” his confession was hushed, “when I saw you in the OR.”

  “You went into the operating room?”

  He gave a slow nod. “I thought you were dying on the table. I was so furious—”

  “Scared,” Saxon tossed out.

  “It was Drake’s fault.” Victor’s gaze slowly lifted to meet her stare. “He took you out of the safe house. He’s dangerous. A threat that I couldn’t allow to stand near you anymore.”

  She could only shake her head. “Let him go.”

  Saxon rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “I told you, Vic, you were losing your mind.” A pause. “What little you had left of it.”

  “Drake saved me!” Her throat hurt. Burned. Had they put a tube down her throat? Oh, jeez, she hated those tubes. And…what about her stomach? The gunshot? She didn’t want to look at the damage to the rest of her body. “Let him…go!”

  Victor rose to his feet. “You’re…going back to him?”

  Always.

  But then Victor gave a hard shake of his head. “You can’t.”

  He wasn’t going to stop her.

  “It’s not safe. Y
ou had…other cases, Jazz. Other enemies. We have to make sure that all the threats facing you have been eliminated.”

  Once more, she tried to rise in the bed. Moving hurt like a bitch, so she didn’t get very far. Maybe a precious inch.

  “You’re not getting out of this hospital any time soon,” Victor’s voice dropped. “And I can’t let you go to him. I can’t put you in the line of fire again.”

  “Victor…”

  Saxon cut his stare toward his friend. “Get her lover out of FBI custody. Do it now, so that Drake can have time to cool down and not want to kick your ass.”

  Oh, Jasmine was pretty sure Drake wouldn’t forget an ass kicking.

  And he won’t forget me.

  “He gave you some free hits,” Saxon continued, voice flat, “but you know that shit will be over.”

  What free hits? Jasmine shook her head. “I think I love him.”

  Victor stumbled back as his mouth gaped. “Him? Him? No! We talked about this! You were supposed to fall for an accountant, a doctor. Someone—”

  “Safe.”

  He nodded.

  “Get him out of custody,” Jasmine ordered—or tried to order. Talking seemed to be such an effort, and her eyelids wanted to sag closed. Stupid drugs. She hated them. “Let him know…I’m all right.”

  “I will.” It was Saxon who gave that promise.

  “But you can’t go to him.” Victor was adamant. “Not until it’s safe.” His voice roughened. “Because I can’t handle seeing you hurt like this, baby. I can’t.”

  She struggled to keep her eyes open and on him.

  “We might not be blood, but you’re my family,” Victor said. “And I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again. No matter what rules I have to break…or who I have to destroy.”

  He sounded so fierce. And so like Drake. “You have…” Her words were slurring because sleep was calling her again. “A lot…in common with him…”

  Silence. Then, gruffly, “That’s what scares me.”

  It didn’t scare her. She knew Victor was a good man. Deep down. Beneath that dangerous exterior. As for Drake…

  I know he’s my man. She’d find her way back to him. Because she wasn’t going to let her chance at happiness slip away. Not now.

  ***

  When Jasmine’s eyes sagged closed, Victor didn’t let go of her hand. She looked too pale against those crisp sheets. Too fragile.

  “You won’t be able to keep her away from him,” Saxon warned.

  Victor glanced up at the only man he considered his friend. His family. For so long, it had been him, Saxon, and Jazz against the world.

  “You sure as hell won’t be able to keep him away from her,” Saxon added, his eyes watchful.

  “He got her shot!”

  One brow rose. “He flew the chopper that got her to this hospital. He stopped her bleeding. He saved her life.” A pause. “And he carved out the heart of the asshole who hurt her. In my book, that makes him—”

  “What?” Victor’s hold tightened on Jasmine’s hand. “Okay? One of the family?”

  “If he’s with her, then he is family, whether you like it or not.” His gaze slid toward the closed hospital room door. “So is that other poor bastard out there. The one who won’t stop pacing the hallway.”

  Noah York.

  “Why didn’t she tell us about him?” He’d thought Jasmine was as alone in the world as they had been. He could still remember the first time he’d met her. His hands had been broken. His ribs cracked. He’d been spitting up blood in that rundown boxing ring. No one else had so much as given him a second glance.

  Then her soft hands had been on his shoulders. She’d promised him that everything would be all right.

  He’d thought of her as his angel then. An angel who’d gotten caught in hell with him. “I wanted more for her.” That was why he’d worked so hard to get her out of those undercover operations, but Jasmine had kept pushing herself right back in them.

  “She likes the danger, just as much as we do.” Now Saxon was looking at Jasmine once more. “Why do you think she was so drawn to Archer?”

  Victor had to bite back a snarl. “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t have to like him,” Saxon murmured as a smile tugged at his lips. “You do have to get his ass out of FBI holding, or else Jazz will rip you a new one when she finally gets out of that hospital bed.”

  She wasn’t getting out of that bed anytime soon. He’d read the reports. Felt as if he’d been the one gutted. So much pain. Too much, for her.

  “And you know Archer isn’t going to just stay there, anyway. You’re lucky he hasn’t called in some of those high-powered contacts of his and had your ass demoted at the Bureau.”

  Victor had wondered about that part himself. “Why didn’t he?” He forced himself to let go of Jazz. She’s going to be okay.

  “You blamed him for what happened to her.” Saxon shrugged. “It was obvious the man blamed himself, too.”

  And the guy was just staying locked up? “Doesn’t make sense.”

  But Saxon had turned away. “It does…if he loves her.”

  Victor’s spine snapped up at that. “Archer doesn’t love his women.”

  Saxon’s hand was on the door. “I don’t think he has any women any longer. I think he just has…her.”

  Victor shook his head. Saxon hadn’t seen the background reports on Archer. He didn’t know about the man’s past. Archer wasn’t going to get heavily involved with someone. He was just—

  “Because she loves him, it doesn’t mean we lose her. Blood or no blood, do you think Jasmine would ever turn her back on us?”

  Victor didn’t answer.

  “So you need to go make peace with Archer. Cause if you don’t, the holidays are going to be shit-ass awkward.” Saxon exhaled heavily. “Now I’ve got to talk with the brother because if I don’t, that guy is gonna tear down this hospital.”

  Victor glanced back at Jasmine. “Fuck.”

  ***

  Drake didn’t move when the door opened and Victor walked inside the small office. He stared up at the FBI Agent as his gut clenched. “Jasmine?”

  “She’s awake.”

  Drake’s heart raced in his chest.

  “The doctors expect a full recovery.”

  Beneath the table, his hands fisted.

  Victor paced toward him. The lower part of his right leg was in a black boot, and there was no sign of his crutch. “Why the hell are you still here?”

  She’s awake. A full recovery. “I’m in custody, where else would I be?”

  “Don’t feed me that BS. You’re letting the FBI hold you. Why? Why haven’t you used one of your high priced lawyers or pulled one of those puppet strings that you and your pal Weston control—why haven’t you gotten out? Why have you been letting the FBI play guard dog around you?”

  Drake inclined his head toward him. “You know why.”

  Victor’s hands slammed down on the table. “Jasmine? You expect me to believe you stayed prisoner for her?”

  Drake didn’t reply.

  “You nearly got her killed. You said you’d keep her safe.” Victor’s words rushed out in a furious barrage. “I let you take her, and then…then the next time I saw her, they had her cut open on an operating room table.”

  Drake’s jaw locked.

  “When her eyes opened, you were the first thing that she asked about. You.”

  His chest ached.

  “How many enemies do you have out there, Archer? Do you even know? How many of them would love to hurt you…by going after Jasmine? By going after the woman you love?”

  “Too many to count.” Did the agent think he hadn’t realized this? He didn’t want Jasmine hurt. That was why he’d stayed with the FBI guards. Why he hadn’t gone back to the hospital, when every cell in his body was screaming for her.

  He never wanted to see her bloody and in pain again.

  “Shit. You didn’t deny it.” Victor shoved away fr
om the table. “You were supposed to deny it!” His hands flew into the air.

  Drake rose to his feet. “I won’t put her at risk again.” He’d been selfish. He could see that now. And though he felt like he was cutting out his own heart, Drake made himself say, “I won’t pull her back into my life.” He couldn’t—because he couldn’t put her at risk ever again.

  He was more than obsessed. He was lost in her. And if he didn’t stay away, while he could, he knew that Jasmine would never be free of him.

  Victor pointed at him. “You didn’t deny it!”

  No, of course not. “It’s my fault she was hurt—”

  “Loving her, you dick,” he gritted out. “You didn’t deny loving her.”

  Why lie?

  Victor swung away. Marched toward a wall. Banged his head against it.

  What the hell?

  “The holidays are gonna be a bitch,” Victor muttered as his shoulders slumped.

  Weren’t they always? Especially since Drake spent them alone. “You’re sure she’s going to recover?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Jazz is a fighter, always has been.” He pushed away from the wall. “But you can’t see her now. The cases she was working, they aren’t closed, and I need her out of the public eye. I need her safe.”

  He didn’t want to just see her. He wanted to hold her. To never let go.

  “I thought I’d be able to protect her,” Drake said slowly. “I was wrong. I won’t be making that mistake again.”

  Victor laughed. “Hell, yeah, you will. It just won’t be today.” He waved toward the door. “You’re free to go.”

  Drake blinked. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. Sorry for the inconvenience for the last—um, forty-eight hours.”

  Drake paced toward him.

  Victor held up his hands. “She wouldn’t like it if you kicked my ass.”

  Drake was so tempted…but Victor was right. “Make sure she has a good life.”