by Cynthia Eden
“Sorry.” He immediately lightened his hold. Then he brought her hand up to his lips. Kissed her wrist. Her palm.
Jasmine could only stare at him. “That wasn’t how you were supposed to react.”
He looked up at her.
“I’m the daughter of a drugged out prostitute. She overdosed a week after I left her. She died and they found her naked and alone in that trailer park.” She shoved back the pain. “You’re not supposed to react this way. You’re not supposed to just sit there and stare up at me and—”
He kissed her hand again. “The first time we talked, I realized how strong you were. I thought you might just be the strongest woman I’d ever met.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t strong. She was weak. A—
“You should see what I see,” he told her, tilting back his head. “When I look at you.”
“A liar and a thief.” She already knew what he saw.
“No.” He pulled her down, and Jasmine sprawled over his lap. “I see a beautiful, smart, strong woman who needs to believe in herself. Life’s been hard, damn brutal to you, but you’ve survived.”
He was making her heart hurt. “Like life hasn’t been brutal to you?”
“We all have our scars.” His thumb moved lightly along the inner column of her wrist. Jasmine knew he had to feel her racing pulse.
Yes, they did have their scars. “When I was a little girl, I wanted another life. Any other life but the one I had. I would dream of starting some place new. A new name. A new past.” She swallowed. “A new future.”
“Is that why you’re still running? Because you want that new life?”
Her lashes lowered. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter how long or hard you run, there’s no escaping the past.”
“Don’t I know it? You can’t even bury that shit sometimes.”
Her gaze jerked back up to his. “Is that what you want to do? Bury your past? Forget about Anna Jean?”
“Her blood will always be on my hands.” His voice roughened. “I hate what I did. I hate that I got drunk and screwed my friend’s girl. Tucker and I…we were close and that destroyed him. Tucker mattered to me. Tucker, Noah, and Trace—they were my family after my mother and grandfather died. And I wound up hurting them all because I couldn’t keep my pants zipped.”
“Drake…”
“She was the only woman who ever got close to me. She looked at me and lied, and I didn’t even realize it.” He paused. Studied her with a hard gaze. “I know when you lie, but the problem is…I don’t seem to care.”
She needed to pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer.
Their lips were almost touching.
“Why do you stare at Noah York and look as if you’re losing your whole world?”
His question sank into her, nearly piercing her heart. Too late, she did try to pull away, but there was no place to go.
“I won’t betray my friends. Not ever again,” he vowed. “There’s something there, between you and Noah. He doesn’t remember you—”
“Why should he? We never met.” He was the lucky one.
“What is he to you?”
She didn’t want to answer him.
“Jasmine…”
“Promise not to tell.” Her whisper. Like a child’s voice.
Surprise rippled across his face.
“He doesn’t need to know, so promise me. Promise that you won’t tell. When all of this is over…” And it would be, one day. One day soon. “Don’t tell him.”
He gave a curt nod.
“I think he’s my brother.” Such a quiet confession. One that made Drake’s muscles tense beneath her. “I know he is.”
“What?”
“My mother…she had a little boy before me. She gave him up at birth. She was just sixteen then.” The words tumbled out in a rush now. “She gave him up, gave him to a family who couldn’t have kids of their own.”
“You don’t—”
“She regretted giving him away. She told me that, she’d scream that at me when she drank. So when she got pregnant again, she…she kept me.” And I’d wished, so many times, that she hadn’t.
Just as Jasmine had wished, so many times, that her brother would come back for her.
A girl, dreaming of a rescue that never came.
“Why do you think Noah is your brother?” No emotion was in his voice.
“Because she had one photo of the family who took him. I found it when I was six and…when I was fifteen, it was the only thing I took with me when I left her.” Because she’d thought—stupidly then—that she’d find her brother. That he’d take her in.
And she had found him. But Noah York had been fighting in battles overseas then, and she…she’d found her own wars.
“You’re certain?”
She stared into the warmth of his eyes. “Tracking him wasn’t hard. I had a photograph of his parents. Of him. And when I got access to the right computer equipment…photo imaging software, hospital databases…it all fell into place for me.” Her lips tightened. “He even has her eyes.”
“Shit.”
Just like that, Jasmine found herself off his lap and back on her feet. And Drake had paced across the room, putting a good ten feet between them.
“Drake?”
He glanced at her. Jasmine’s hands were curled around her stomach and his—his were fisted at his sides. “His sister?”
She nodded.
“Noah’s fucking sister?” Then he squeezed his eyes shut. “What have I done?” Then softer, “Again.”
“You haven’t done anything.” Nervously, she edged toward him. The floor creaked beneath her feet.
He threw up a hand, halting her. “Do not touch me right now.”
She was so lost.
“When you touch me, I want to strip you. I want to take you. I want to make you scream my name.”
Oh, well, in that case…Jasmine took another step.
“You’re his sister!” He backed away from her. “All Noah has ever wanted was to find out about his real family. He used to talk about them for hours out in the field…”
“He was better off not knowing.” No… “He is better off not knowing.” Noah had a wife, a home. He didn’t need the mess of the past.
He stared at her with both rage and pain in his eyes. “You’re what he’s wanted. You were right in front of him, and he didn’t even know it.”
This wasn’t good. “You can’t tell him.”
“Bullshit. I have to tell him.”
“No!” Then she leapt across the room and grabbed tightly to his arms. “You really want to tell him that his mom was a drugged out prostitute? That she couldn’t remember his father’s name? That his sister…” The breath she expelled burned her lungs. “Trace will tell you that I have a criminal history. I’ve been hacking for years. I’ve got enemies…so many. You don’t want to put this at his doorstep. You don’t want to put me there.”
“Noah can handle enemies.”
“I don’t want him to know. Please, Drake. There’s no point in it.”
“He’ll want you in his life.”
“But I can’t be a part of his life.” That ripped her up. She’d realize that truth, though, long ago. “So let it go.” Her hands slid up his chest. Curled around his shoulders.
He was so stiff in her embrace. “I fucked you.”
Did the man have some moral opposition to “making love”? Because she didn’t.
“Noah’s sister.” His eyes closed. “Knew you were trouble. From the first glance.”
“I knew you were, too.” And she hadn’t cared. She rose onto her toes. Pressed her lips to his.
He immediately jerked away.
“Drake?”
His eyes were open. Blazing. “I won’t betray a friend again.”
“You aren’t betraying anyone.” But he was hurting her when he pulled away.
He yanked out his phone. Turned his back on her.
“Drake?”
He took a few more steps away. That phone was to his ear and he said, “Trace, what’s the status? Do you have things contained?”
A faint growling sound reached Jasmine’s ears. She crept toward the window on the right.
Still talking into his phone, Drake said, “Yeah, well, we have another problem.”
Her shoulders tightened as she peered out the window. She couldn’t see anyone outside, and that growling had stopped.
“How fast do you think we could get a DNA test?”
No. Jasmine whirled around.
“Right. A DNA test. Comparing Jasmine and—”
She flew across the room and yanked that phone out of his hand. She hung up on Trace. “What are you doing? You can’t tell them!”
“If you’re really his sister, then Noah deserves to know.”
He couldn’t do this. “No, Drake. No.”
His phone was ringing again. He tried to reach for it. She put it behind her back.
One blond brow rose. “Seriously, Jasmine?”
“Yeah, seriously, Drake.” She hurried away from him. “This is my life we’re talking about.”
“Noah is filthy rich.” Drake said those words bluntly. “If you’re his sister, he’s going to want to take care of you.”
“And when I was fifteen and stealing food to survive—”
He flinched.
She didn’t. “I would have appreciated his money. I don’t now. I don’t want him knowing.” Jasmine wanted to toss that phone. To shatter it. “Trace isn’t going to forget this.” Now he’d start probing. “Dammit, why did you have to say anything? Why—”
That growling was back. Only this time, she wasn’t the only one who heard the sound. Drake’s head jerked toward the window. In two fast steps, he was there, peering outside, then swearing when he saw the lights that hit the cabin.
“Motorcycles,” Jasmine whispered. She counted at least three. And was that an SUV rushing in behind them?
It was.
She answered the ringing phone. “Trace, I think you need to get your ass over to Drake’s old cabin…cause we’ve got company.”
Drake had already whirled away from the window. He marched to a closet and started pulling out—weapons?
A gun. A knife.
“What kind of company?” Trace barked in her ear.
“The kind that isn’t friendly.” She was backing away from the window. How had they been found?
Drake was back. He grabbed the phone from her. “My grandfather’s place. Get here as fast as you can…because this party isn’t going to wait.” He shoved the phone into his pocket as his eyes glittered down at Jasmine. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
She did. That didn’t mean she’d want to. Or had he missed that whole no-bullets-in-the-gun scene before with her?
He put the gun in her hands. She realized he had a second handgun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. “Aim and fire, princess.”
She gulped. “H-how did they find us?”
The growls died away.
Drake put a finger to his lips, then he killed all the lights in the cabin.
Then…
“There’s nowhere to run, Archer! This is the end for you.”
That voice…she knew it. Saxon. Her heartbeat quickened. Jasmine opened her mouth to call out a fierce reply, but Drake’s hand clamped over her lips.
“We know Jazz is in there,” Saxon shouted. “So you both need to come out, now.”
Drake’s hand fell away. He took up a position near the window. Drew his weapon.
Jasmine didn’t want him to get caught in the middle of a firefight. And if Saxon were out there…
I can’t let this happen.
“It wasn’t just fucking,” she heard herself say because she knew the end was near for her.
Drake fired. The bullet blasted into the night. “Stay the hell back!” he roared.
“It wasn’t just fucking,” she said again, her voice louder even as her body trembled.
Drake’s head jerked toward her. “This isn’t the time—”
“It might have just been for you, but it was more for me.” Tell him. “I thought I was making love with you.”
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…”