Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(67)

“It was a simple job.” Maxwell was speaking again. “Get close to Archer. Use him. Help me to wreck him.”

He was wrecked without her. She didn’t use me. She never did. Jasmine’s voice trembled when she replied, “You-you shouldn’t have set those bombs at the Arrow. Innocent people could’ve died—”

Maxwell’s voice cut through her words. “Do you think I give a shit about those people?”

A beat of silence, then, “I don’t think you care about anyone.”

“You screwed that up for me. The Arrow should’ve burned—the place was meant to blow—”

“Because of you.” Jasmine sounded both terrified and furious. He hated her fear and as for the fury…it was just driving up Drake’s own rage. I should have saved her. But he hadn’t. She’d burned.

“Because of me.” Maxwell was gloating.

“How many others have you attacked?” Jasmine asked him. “With your bombs…with fire?”

Trace shifted then, moving closer to the computer. “What the hell? It sounds like she’s interrogating him.”

Yes, yes, it did.

Maxwell laughed. “Oh, Jazz, I don’t always need those tactics. Destroying a man’s life is easy these days. A matter of business. I use tools. Tools like you. I hack into accounts. I learn secrets. I use them.”

Victor paused the recording. “As you see, he was incriminating himself. My man did his job perfectly and—”

“Jasmine is dead.” Drake’s heart was pounding. Her voice hurt him. “He f*cked up his job.” I f*cked up.

Victor’s eyes glinted. “You feel guilty, I get that. Jasmine…she was different. Maybe it was her eyes or those damn dimples. Whatever it was, she had a way of getting beneath your skin.”

Drake caught Trace studying the agent with a thoughtful expression. “Did she get beneath your skin?” Trace asked him.

Victor’s head tilted as he continued to study Drake. “This whole bit is about you getting closure, isn’t it? Here. Listen to this, okay? Jasmine didn’t blame you, not for anything.” He typed again and Maxwell’s voice filled the small room once more.

“Does Archer care about you?”

Drake stopped breathing when he heard that question. Then Jasmine replied and his whole body shuddered.

“No.”

Had she truly believed that? It’s not just f*cking to me. Her words. They should have been his. They should have been his. “Will he come for you, try to save you?”

No hesitation as she replied, “No.”

Maxwell cursed and demanded, “Then what good are you to me?”

“I’m not.”

Drake shook his head, helplessly. No, no, no!

“As you just heard, Jasmine didn’t expect you to rush in, guns blazing, and save her. There’s no need for you to feel guilty at all.” Victor leaned forward to close the laptop.

Drake caught his hand. “Who was the inside man?”

“I’m not at liberty to say—”

“He’s in the room, but he’s not speaking. That means he’s one of Case’s flunkies.”

“He speaks…but you aren’t going to hear him. Revealing his identity would just compromise other cases that the man worked for us—”

“So this guy,” Trace broke in, “he made a habit of working undercover for the FBI? For you?”

Victor’s chin shot up. “I think we’re done now.”

Hell, no, they weren’t. “Play the rest.”

“I don’t—”

“I want to hear it all.”

But Victor shook his head. “There’s no point.”

“There is to me!”

“Why? Why?” Anger cracked in Victor’s voice. “Do you want to hear her when she begs them not to shoot her? When Maxwell ordered her to be shot in the heart—and she was? Look, the fire didn’t kill her. She was—she was dead when we heard the first shot.”

Noah staggered a bit and crashed into the table. The laptop fell, hitting the floor hard. Victor dove down to retrieve it, but Trace beat him. He lifted the device. Handed it back to the agent.

Drake couldn’t move. He remembered the sound of the gunshot that had blasted moments before the warehouse went up in flames.

“This is the end,” Victor said. He gave a firm nod. “She’s gone, and you have to just…just move on. I’m sure she’ll be easy to replace.”

He wanted to rip the guy apart. “No, she won’t be.”

Victor juggled his laptop and the crutches. “Yes, well…I think we’re done here. I certainly hope our paths never cross again.” Then, without another word, he turned and exited the room.

The men didn’t speak until he was gone.

“That’s one of the FBI’s lead agents?” Noah demanded. “I don’t like that bastard! ‘Easy to replace…’ We’re talking about a woman’s life!””

“Sometimes,” Trace’s voice was thoughtful, “there’s more to a man than meets the eye.”

Screw all that. Drake marched closer to Trace. “Did you get it?”

Trace opened his right hand. “Copied all the files…good job distracting him, though I was worried you were about to slug Victor…crutches or no.”