Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(40)

Taggert’s own gaze flashed. “You listen to me. You can’t just—”

“I’m coming with you,” Jasmine said, cutting through the cop’s words. Because she knew her time had run out. If Hardin was dead, then she’d be next on Maxwell’s hit list.

Surprise rippled over Drake’s face. “The hell you are.” His hand tightened around her wrist as he leaned in close to her. “Do you know what she’ll do to you down there?”

“Question me? Toss me in a cell?” Jasmine shrugged. “A girl can’t run forever.”

He shook his head. “What are you doing?”

Ah, this was the crazy part. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to keep you safe.”

Judging by the floored expression on his face, that possibility had obviously not occurred to him. Jasmine leaned up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “It’s my turn to protect you,” she whispered. “Consider it payback.”

Then she stepped away from him. She’d known that she was living on borrowed time, but that time was gone now. Hardin is dead. A cold chill had wrapped around her spine. She didn’t want to wind up like him.

Her gaze connected with the detective’s. “You’ll be needing to put a call in to the FBI. Ask for Agent Victor Monroe.”

“The FBI?”

Jasmine nodded. “And I won’t be answering any more questions. Not until Victor arrives.”

She sent Drake one last smile. Thank you. For a little while, she’d felt so good with him. Safe.

But safety was a lie.

And her death…it had been a certainty from the very beginning.

“I’ll miss you,” she told Drake.

She meant the words. She wouldn’t miss much about the con that was her current life but…she would never forget him.

He didn’t say anything back to her. Not surprising, really. No lover had ever really missed her when she left.

Story of my life.

She turned and walked away.

***

What. The. Hell?

Drake stood rooted to the spot, unable to believe what had just happened. Jasmine had given herself up, sacrificed herself for—him?

“I’ll be back,” Detective Taggert promised as she pointed at him. “And maybe even with that warrant.”

He growled out some kind of response as the cops left. Like the threat of a warrant scared him.

Janet hovered nearby. When the coast was clear, she whispered, “What do you want me to do?”

Get Jasmine back.

But Jasmine was gone. Heading off with the cops.

He rushed out onto the balcony. He stood there, waiting, furious, and in a few moments, Jasmine was led out of the Masquerade. The cops loaded her into the back of a squad car. The wind caught her hair, tossing it lightly around her face.

She’d wanted to see the city. Now she was going where—jail?

“Drake?” Janet queried.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Drake said as he watched the door slam and seal Jasmine in the car. “I’ve got this.”

Like he was really just going to sit back while Jasmine vanished from his life.

Hell, no. He’d get her back, and he knew just who he’d use to help him. He spun away from the balcony and pulled out his wallet. The card he needed was inside.

Federal custody, my ass.

He’d be the one watching over Jasmine.

***

They hadn’t handcuffed her. Hadn’t barraged her with questions. They’d just locked her in an interrogation room. Then the cops had appeared to forget about her.

Her chair was hard and cold and after about two hours, Jasmine’s ass was definitely aching, so she marched around the tiny room. She tried to peer into what she was sure was a two-way mirror. She leaned in nice and close, cupping her hands around her eyes— The door to the interrogation room opened with a click behind her.

“Well, well…aren’t you a hard woman to find.”

She whirled around.

FBI Special Agent Victor Monroe stared back at her. Tall, handsome, all law-abiding and solid-looking.

That was Victor.

His square jaw locked as he crossed the room to her side. His dark brown hair was swept away from his high forehead. “I hear you’ve been causing trouble.”

“I’m rather good at that.” Her best talent.

He leaned in toward her. His blue eyes swept over her face.

“How the hell am I supposed to get you out of here?” he whispered.

Ah, but it was good to have some friends in the right places.

“You’re the special agent,” she murmured back, keeping her voice low. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Then she smiled because it was nice to finally be with someone who trusted her.

Even if he shouldn’t.

Too bad Victor had never seemed to learn that lesson.





Chapter Eight


Jasmine was being led out of the police station in handcuffs. Drake staggered to a stop at the sight of her. He’d been trying to call the FBI Agent all morning, but that jerk Victor hadn’t answered, and now Drake saw exactly why the agent had been dodging him.

Victor was the one pulling Jasmine toward a dark SUV. Victor had one hand securely on Jasmine’s shoulder. As he walked, Victor’s jacket parted, and Drake glimpsed the gun holster beneath the man’s arm.