Mine To Protect (Mine- Romantic Suspense Book 6)

by Cynthia Eden

  “Kick ass, Vic,” Jasmine muttered, then she turned and ran for the door. They had a cop to save.

  ***

  Cain Blair crept down the hotel hallway. He’d kept his ear piece in place, and he’d heard every damn word that Tom Winters had said to Zoe.

  Victor had told him to haul ass up to the penthouse and give Zoe back-up, but there’d been no way for him to use the VIP elevator. He hadn’t had access so he’d gone as high as he could on the hotel’s regular elevators, then he’d started climbing stairs to get his ass in the proper attack position.

  Only…before he’d made it to the penthouse and to Zoe, he’d heard Tom spill Michelle’s location. He’d known exactly what the dick was talking about when he said it was time for the guest in room 2804 to check out.

  So instead of hitting the penthouse, Cain was now on floor twenty-eight. He was getting Michelle out of there. He was going to make sure she survived. He could see the guard standing in front of the door to room 2804. The guy was big, muscled, and he would be going down.

  Cain whistled as he approached the guy, trying to look as if he belonged—

  The guy grabbed him. “No one should be this close to the suite! No one should—”

  Cain head-butted the fellow. “And you should sure be friendlier to strangers.” In a flash, he had the guy cuffed and on the floor. “Stay there.”

  “You bastard! You—”

  His yells were going to alert any guards inside the hotel room. With no time to hesitate, Cain slammed his shoulder into the door. Only it didn’t give. Shit—that was a hard door. So he slammed again, hitting harder, football style, and the door gave way. He rushed inside.

  A guard was already coming at him, gun up.

  “Las Vegas PD!” Cain shouted. “Drop the gun, now!”

  The guy didn’t drop his weapon. “I hate cops!”

  Shit. The fellow was firing. So Cain fired, too. His gun exploded and the bullet hit the guard’s shoulder, sending him flying back. Cain lunged forward, he kicked the gun out of the way and told the downed man, “Move again and the next shot will be in your heart.”

  The guy—finally showing some sense—stopped moving.

  “And you’re damn lucky your bullet missed me. Asshole.” Cain’s gaze jerked around the room. He saw Michelle, twisting and straining against her bonds on the bed. She was alive. Hell, yes, she was safe.

  He took a step toward her.

  And felt the muzzle of a gun shove into his back.

  “Not just one of us in here, cop,” a rough voice barked behind him. “Should have searched better…”

  Not one guard inside. Two. Shit.

  “Now you drop the weapon,” the second guard told him. “Or I will shoot you straight in your spine.”

  The spine? Damn. Someone sure played dirty.

  Good thing I do, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Bitch!” Tom shouted as he punched at Zoe. He hit her in the gut, a blow that sent the breath heaving from her, but she hit him back even harder. A twisting jab that went right for his balls.

  He howled and eased his grip on her. Before she could go in for another hit, Victor was there. He yanked her away from Tom and pulled her to her feet. His gaze swept desperately over her.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine—”

  He pushed her behind him and faced Tom. Tom was staggering to his feet. Yelling and cursing and charging at Victor.

  Victor raised his gun. Pointed it straight at Tom’s head.

  Tom froze. The gun was less than an inch away from him.

  “Want to see what kind of damage a shot this close can do?” Victor asked him.

  Tom’s gaze darted to Zoe. “She knows…” he said.

  She fought the urge to slam her fist into his balls—again.

  “You’re about to know,” Victor promised him.

  Tom lifted his arms. “You can’t shoot when a guy isn’t fighting you, Special Agent.”

  “Technically, I’ve turned in my resignation,” Victor said. “So maybe I’ll just call this self-defense. Justified. I’ll make the world a better place by taking you out of it.”

  Zoe shook her head. No, Victor couldn’t do that. If he did, if he crossed that particular line, there would be no going back.

  Not for him.

  Not for her.

  Footsteps pounded in the hallway. She looked over her shoulder and saw Russell hurrying into the room. He was armed and his expression said he was ready to face hell.

  But he drew up short at the sight of Victor holding his gun on Tom. “Guess you got things covered, huh?”

  “Back-up is always appreciated,” Victor assured him. “Always.”

  Tom’s lips curled in disgust.

  “Michelle!” Zoe looked around the room, desperate. “Do we know if she’s okay? Is she safe? Russell, do you know what is happening with Michelle?”

  ***

  Cain dropped his weapon, but the bastard behind him just jabbed the gun harder into his back.

  The guy taunted, “Guess what, cop? Weapon or not, you’re still getting that shot in the back. You’re still—”

  There was a quick thud of sound. A grunt. And the gun was suddenly not jabbing into Cain’s spine any longer. He spun around and found a blond man—a tough looking asshole who wore a fancy suit—and a gorgeous woman with cold and deadly eyes staring at him.

  “We thought you could use some assistance,” the woman said.

  The guy flexed his fingers. Cain realized that the stranger had knocked out the guard who’d been ready to shoot—right in my freaking spine. “Guess that means you’re the good guys?” Cain asked carefully. The blond fellow looked familiar…

  Drake Archer. The name clicked for him. Though Archer wasn’t exactly known for being good.

  “Today, we are,” Archer said. “Victor sent us.”

  Okay, that was good enough for him. Cain turned away from them and hurried toward the bed. Michelle was twisting and fighting her ropes and grunting frantically behind her gag. He yanked off her blindfold and saw her dark eyes flare. He pulled down her gag. “Michelle, it’s okay, you’re safe—”

  “Zoe!” Michelle yelled the name.

  “Zoe is going to be okay,” Drake said. “Victor is taking care of her.”

  Cain yanked at the rope that bound her wrists. “You don’t—don’t understand.” Her body trembled. “He’s obsessed—he’s…he’s not letting her g-go…”

  “Yes, he will.” The woman at Drake’s side spoke with certainty. “Because Victor isn’t going to give that bastard a choice.”

  A tear leaked down Michelle’s cheek. “I think…I think he’ll kill her…before he lets her go again…He’ll kill Zoe…”

  ***

  Zoe was safe. Zoe was alive.

  Zoe is with me. Victor’s heart was still racing, fear still hollowing out his stomach, but Zoe was okay. He’d gotten to her. Stopped Tom. And Michelle should be safe. Jasmine and Drake would never let him down.

  While Russell kept his gun pointed at Tom, Victor pulled out his phone. He pressed the buttons to connect him with Jasmine and while the phone rang, he waited, nervous as all hell. I need confirmation that Michelle is still alive.

  “We’ve got her,” Jasmine said when she answered the call. “Michelle is safe, and just so you know, the FBI cavalry is storming the building right now.”

  So Percy had finally decided to do the right thing. A little late to the party, but that was the assistant director’s normal style.

  “But Vic…watch your ass up there, okay?” Worry thickened Jasmine’s voice. “Michelle is saying that Tom is freaking obsessed with Zoe. That he never got over her—that he’s been pulling all of these strings and setting everything up so that she had to come back to him.”

  Victor’s gaze slid back to Tom. The guy didn’t look like a threat any longer. His shoulders were hunched. His body still.

  “And if he’s spent all this time working toward the goal of getting her back,
” Jasmine continued, her words rushing out, “then how will he react when you take her away?”

  “I don’t give a shit how he reacts. There’s nothing he can do. Zoe is safe, and he’s about to spend the rest of his life behind bars.”

  At Victor’s rough words, Tom’s head jerked up. Fury burned in his gaze.

  “Thanks, Jazz,” Victor said. “I owe you.” He put the phone back in his pocket. Zoe was still beside him, still cradling her broken wrist. Fucking asshole.

  And she was still…

  Not looking me in the eye.

  He’d deal with that. Deal with her—later. As soon as they were out of that building, he’d start fixing things with her. He’d beg. He’d plead. He’d move heaven and earth, but he would fix things. There was no alternative for him.

  He needed her too much.

  Russell had cuffed the guy. He shoved Tom forward and tossed a pleased glance at Victor. “Not too bad for our last case, huh, Victor?” Russell asked.

  Not too bad, but not too good, either, because he’d screwed things so completely with Zoe.

  “You can’t trust him,” Tom said, his attention focused on Zoe. “You know that, right? Don’t ever trust him. He’ll just keep betraying you. Just keep using you.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Victor ordered.

  But Tom continued, voice heating as he said, “He doesn’t care about you, Zoe. He never did. He’s been using you all along. Don’t fall into that trap again.”

  “Shut up!” Victor’s roar blasted through the penthouse.

  “He doesn’t care—”

  “I know he doesn’t.” Zoe’s soft words cut right through Tom’s rage-filled rant. “I know.” And then she did finally look into Victor’s eyes. The sadness and pain he saw in her green stare ripped through him. “But at least he came back.” Her lips twisted in a sad smile. “So thank you for that Victor.”

  “Zoe—”

  But she’d already turned away from him. She stared at Tom and shook her head. “I don’t think prison will be kind to you. Luther…he has a lot of connections inside prison walls. When people realize you betrayed him, what do you think they’ll do to you in there?”

  Tom paled. “No…”

  “Maybe you should make a deal,” she said as she turned away and began walking toward the door. “You and Victor…you’re both good at deals.”

  Victor felt those words pierce his heart.

  Tom was watching her leave, a wistful, almost sad expression on his face. “Good-bye, my Zoe.”

  “I was never yours.” She kept walking. “Never anyone’s. I’m my own person. So screw off.”

  Tom’s gaze hardened.

  She kept going.

  Victor wanted to run after her. He had the feeling he’d be spending the rest of his life doing that. Rushing after her. Hadn’t that been their story all along? She slipped away. He found her.

  And this time, I beg her to forgive me.

  “I’ve got this joker,” Russell said, his voice sympathetic. “Do what you need to do, Vic.”

  But, once more, Victor’s gaze jerked toward Tom. There was still sadness on his face, but something else was there, too.

  Triumph?

  Why would the guy be all triumphant now? Michelle was alive. He was cuffed. What the hell did Tom have to be celebrating? Not a single thing unless…

  How will he react when you take her away? Jasmine’s words played in his mind again. Frowning, he said, “You put all of those hits on Zoe.”

  Tom just kept staring after her.

  “She could have died at any time. If I hadn’t been there, she would be dead.”

  Tom’s gaze finally slid toward him. “Too bad you aren’t there now, huh, Special Agent?”

  What?

  Triumph blazed like insanity in Tom’s eyes.

  Then Victor understood. This isn’t over. Victor ran for the door, bellowing Zoe’s name.

  She was standing in front of the elevator, her head bowed. At his shout, she jerked and looked up at him. “I don’t have the stupid keycard. I can’t get it to open.”

  Fuck the keycard. “Tom has a hit on you!”

  Her lips twisted. “He only wanted to get me to the hotel. It’s over.”

  It’s not. Victor pushed faster, determined to get to her. And he yanked at his holster, pulling out his gun. “Zoe!”

  “It’s. Over.”

  The elevator doors dinged.

  Someone had just come up to the penthouse.

  “Zoe!”

  The doors opened and gunfire thundered. Her body flew back and Victor saw the blood—Zoe’s blood. The guard came out of the elevator. Samuel. The jerk he’d fought earlier. The guy came out, with his gun still raised because Zoe was still alive.

  “Boss said…you don’t leave,” the guard growled. “You never leave him. Extra pay for that…”

  And Victor knew that Tom had never intended to let Zoe escape that hotel. When she’d walked inside…

  Either she’d be Tom’s or she’d be dead.

  “No!” Victor fired, again and again and the guard was the one to jerk back as the bullets hit him. They flew into his chest, sank into his heart and the bastard fell, slamming back into the elevator.

  Victor rushed to Zoe. She had her hands on her stomach and the blood was pumping out, soaking her fingers. She stared up at him, her face slack with shock even as her eyes filled with fear. “Vic…tor?”

  “You’re okay.” There wasn’t any other option. “Do you hear me? You’re okay.” He put his hands on her wound.

  Russell rushed out, hauling Tom with him. “Victor!”

  “It hurts,” Zoe whispered. “More than when Luther shot me…”

  More than when…Fuck. “Look at me, Zoe!” Because her eyes had sagged shut. Her body had slumped against the wall. “Look at me!”

  Her eyelids flickered as she looked up at him.

  “You should have stayed with me,” Tom called, voice so cold. “Then you would have been safe. I told you, Zoe, the special agent wasn’t really the good guy. If he had been, you wouldn’t be dying right now.”

  Victor ignored him. He stared at Zoe. Gorgeous, strong, perfect Zoe. “You’re okay.”

  Her lips trembled. “I’m…not…”

  Russell was on his phone, calling for help. Demanding that paramedics get to the penthouse right away.

  “You just…you have to get stitched up.” Her blood soaked his hands now. Zoe’s blood is on me. I should have kept her safe. Should have seen this threat coming. “Then you’ll be as good as—”

  “Love…you…”

  “What?”

  “Now…l-lie…to me…”

  “Zoe—”

  “Lie to me…” Tears leaked from her eyes. “Say…you care. Say—”

  “Zoe, I love you!” The words ripped from him. “Do you hear me? I love you. I’ve been in love with you for so long—hell, even before the first time you ditched your guards and escaped. I love you.”

  Her eyes were closing again. “Good…liar…”

  “No!” He couldn’t just watch her die. He picked her up in his arms, held her tight and raced into the elevator. He kicked the guard’s body out of his way so that the damn doors would shut. “I’m not lying.” He pressed the button for the lobby. “I love you. Love you so much that I’ve been a blind idiot. You are my world, Zoe.” The doors closed. The elevator shot down to the lobby. “You are everything that matters to me, and you are okay.”

  Her face had bleached of all color. “Such…liar…”

  “Baby…” It wasn’t a lie. The love he felt for her was ripping him apart. Tearing, destroying, killing…

  As surely as the bullet was killing her.

  No! I can’t lose her! I won’t. “Fight, Zoe. Stay alive. Stay strong. Stay with me.”

  The elevator doors opened. He ran into the lobby and saw—

  The assistant director. Lauren Ward. Cain. Jasmine. Drake. Other agents. Uniformed cops. They all stared at him i
n shock. “An ambulance!” Victor yelled at them. “Get me an ambulance!” Because…

  She’s not okay. Zoe is dying. I can’t let her die.

  Please, God, don’t let her die.

  He ran for the big, shining doors that led out of the Vine. Jasmine was with him, racing at his side. The others just gaped. Pity was in their eyes.

  As if…as if Zoe was already gone.

  She was limp in his arms, but she wasn’t gone. Not yet. Not Zoe.

  “I love you,” he whispered again.

  But Zoe didn’t respond.

  “I love you.” He would say it a thousand times. A million. He needed her to understand. She wasn’t just a case. She was Zoe. She had his heart. She had his soul. She owned every single part of him.

  He heard the shriek of an ambulance’s siren.

  “I love you,” Victor whispered again. He stood there, Zoe in his arms, her body too still, and he felt tears on his own cheeks. “Don’t leave, baby. Stay. I’ll give you anything you want…just stay.”

  The ambulance roared to a stop in front of him. The attendants rushed out. They took Zoe from him.

  “Victor…” Jasmine reached for his arm. “Victor, I am so sorry.”

  He climbed into the ambulance. The EMTs were frantically working on Zoe. She wasn’t responding. “I love you,” he told her again.

  Someone slammed the doors shut.

  “I love you,” Victor whispered to Zoe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Five days later…

  Victor Monroe stared through the thick jail bars, his gaze on his prey—Xavier Thomas Winters. The lawyer wore a garish orange prisoner uniform, stubble lined his jaw, and the nose that Victor had broken—it was still swollen and twisted.

  Not so perfect now, are you?

  But the guy was smiling. That smug-ass smile that Victor hated.

  “How’s my Zoe doing?” Tom asked him.

  Victor didn’t blink.

  Tom’s fingers curled around the bars. “The story I’ve heard is that she didn’t even make it to the hospital. She died on the way there.” His lips twisted. “Such a shame. Why didn’t you protect her better, Special Agent Monroe?”

  “I’m not a special agent any longer.”