Mine to Keep

by Cynthia Eden

  Skye blinked at that. Finally, she pulled her gaze off Trace. Focused on the detective. “He didn’t kill you because you were going to be the killer.”

  Alex’s brows rose.

  “Anna Jean named you…she said that you’d come to find her in Atlanta. She was tossing you out to us all, setting you up as the killer.” Lying so easily. “Then Trace ran over to Reese’s place because Reese called and said that you were watching him.”

  “I—”

  “It was your gun that Reese used to shoot Trace, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  That was what she’d thought. “You would’ve been killed, eventually. At the right time—a time that would match up with whatever scenario Reese planned to spin to the authorities. He would’ve killed you, no doubt with Trace’s gun. That way, everything would end tied up nicely. You went after the killer—you shot Trace, but not before he fatally ended you.”

  Alex’s gaze flashed to Trace. “Only the plan got fucked.”

  “Yes, but not soon enough.” Because if she’d just reached Trace sooner, then he wouldn’t be in that hospital bed.

  Silence from Alex. The heavy, rough silence that seemed to push against Skye’s skin. Then, finally, he asked “Is there anything I can do?”

  She smoothed her fingers over Trace’s. “He bounced back so quickly when Mitch shot him.” Just a few weeks before. Why—why couldn’t they just have an easy life? “But I guess Reese was a better shot.” Damn the bastard. “They’ve operated on Trace so many times, trying to repair the damage from that bullet, but the doctors just—” She broke off and had to blink back her hears. “I don’t understand why the doctors can’t have more hope.” She had plenty. There was no way that she would give up on Trace. “He survived before. He’ll do it again.” Please, Trace, cheat death again for me.

  “I’m sorry, Skye.”

  So was she. “If you want to do something, then bring him back to me.” Because that was the only thing that she wanted.

  Alex pulled a chair closer to the bed.

  A chair for her.

  A chair for him.

  “It looks like I owe that man my life,” Alex said.

  That man was her life.

  They sat down, and they waited.

  ***

  Skye was dead. Anna Jean had killed her. Sliced open Skye’s throat. Let her blood drain out.

  Skye was an angel with bloody wings. Dead on a snow covered field.

  He’d left her behind, and she’d died.

  Skye! Trace tried to scream her name. Again and again, but no sound slipped past his lips.

  The cold froze him. Numbed him. And Skye was dead before him.

  If she was gone, then he wanted to die, too. He couldn’t, wouldn’t go years without her again.

  Skye had been his hope. His only dream.

  She was gone.

  And he wanted to be with her.

  ***

  The machines started to beep louder. Faster.

  Skye shot out of her chair. Her knees locked as she stood at Trace’s bedside. “Trace?” Skye whispered.

  He was coming back to her.

  The beeping grew more frantic.

  Alex rose from his chair. “Ah…Skye…”

  A nurse and two doctors rushed into the room. They pushed Skye back.

  “You have to go back to the waiting room, miss,” the nurse told Skye as she blocked her path to Trace. “You need to go now.”

  No way. Skye peered around the nurse’s shoulder. “He’s waking up! I’m not going anywhere!”

  “Blood pressure’s dropping…too damn low,” one doctor muttered.

  Alex caught Skye’s hand. “We should go outside.” He sounded so grim. So…sad?

  “No!” Skye yanked away from him. “He’s waking up!”

  The nurse gave a slight shake of her head.

  “You’re wrong!” Skye jumped around the nurse. She shoved at the doctors. Fought to get to Trace. “Come back to me! You promised.” Her hands grabbed him. “Don’t you do this! Don’t do this to me!”

  One of the doctors tried to pry Skye’s hand away from Trace. He’d have to try a whole lot harder than that.

  “Ms. Sullivan, you have to leave. He’s…” The doctor’s voice hardened. “We’re trying to stabilize him!”

  “No!” Skye yelled right back. “You’re waiting for him to die, but I’m not.” Her hold on Trace was desperate. “Don’t go where I can’t follow. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare go where I can’t follow. You promised me forever, Trace. That was your promise. But it hasn’t been forever. It’s been weeks. You. Promised. Me!”

  The cold had cracked around her.

  The rage had bled out.

  There was only pain left. So much anguish. So much grief. And it was tearing her apart.

  ***

  Skye’s body vanished. The snow vanished.

  Only the blood remained.

  Skye? He tried to call out again, but his throat felt twisted. His speech was gone.

  He couldn’t hear anything around him. The silence was so complete.

  And the blood began to darken.

  “…Promised me!”

  In the middle of the silence, her voice was deafening.

  Skye’s voice.

  She was close to him. He just had to find her. She was close. She was alive.

  “…Forever!”

  The darkness deepened. It grew. So complete. So total. So—

  Trace’s eyes flew open. A room of white surrounded him. So bright.

  “Trace!” His head jerked at Skye’s cry.

  She was there. A man in white—a doctor?—had his arms around Skye as if he’d been pulling her back.

  Trace tried to call out to her.

  She tore free from the man’s hold. “You came back!” Tears were on her cheeks. Her eyes were so big and wide and so full of love. “You…came back!”

  “I’ll be damned,” someone muttered.

  Trace’s gaze flickered to the left. Alex stared at him, a wide smile on his face.

  Trace didn’t smile back. Everything hurt too badly right then.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Skye whispered. She pressed a kiss to his check. “Everything’s going to be okay again.”

  Skye was alive. She didn’t have a trail of bloody wings in the snow. She was right next to him. Staring at him with love in her eyes.

  “You’re with me,” she said, smiling at him. A smile that lit up his whole world.

  No, she was his world.

  The doctors worked on him, but Skye stayed close. She held his hand. He wouldn’t let her go.

  He heard the doctor talk about breathing machines. Blood loss. Surgeries.

  They took out the tube that had been in his throat. They poked him. They prodded him.

  Skye stayed with him.

  And when the doctors were done, she bent toward him and pressed a kiss to his lips. She still tasted like every dream he’d ever had. The good dreams. The dreams that made a man want to live, even when death called to him.

  “You kept your promise,” Skye whispered.

  His throat felt as if it had been cut open. He swallowed. Once. Twice. Then he managed to say, “Had to…keep.” Hell, that had sounded like he was spitting out glass. Trace tried again and managed, “Was…mine…to you…had to…keep.”

  But Skye shook her head. Her smile came again. The smile that told him everything was going to be all right.

  Reese was gone. The betrayal, the pain, would always be there, but Trace didn’t have to worry about the past coming back.

  The threat was over. Dead.

  Just like Anna Jean.

  It was time to leave the dead behind. Time to focus on the living.

  “It was your promise,” Skye said. Her lips pressed lightly to his once more. “But you, Trace, you’re mine, and I was ready to fight heaven and hell to keep you with me.”

  His promise. Her love.

  Trace tried to sit up,
to get closer to her, but he was so weak.

  So Skye came to him. Carefully, slowly, she curled her body around his.

  She held him. He held her.

  The love that they had would keep them strong. Through whatever came in the future.

  But he was damn well tired of death and danger. He was also sick of getting shot. He never wanted to see another hospital again.

  He was ready for the promise of happiness that they deserved. And, for Skye, he’d make sure they got that happiness.

  Another promise for him to keep.

  Trace stared into her eyes. “I love you.”

  And he saw love shining in her eyes, an endless love that stared back at him.

  A love that would last forever.

  I always keep my promises to Skye.

  Always.

  ###