Mine to Keep (Mine #2)(39)

He kept staring at that photograph, long after Alex left.

Alex had been watching him with a too-careful stare. You think I might have killed Ben Sharpe?

Did Alex realize that his alibi was bull?

Maybe…

His hand pushed into his pocket and he pulled out the dog tag. There should’ve been two tags. There always were.

He’d found one.

Where was the other?

Time to find out just where Parker had gotten this one.

***

Parker glanced over his shoulder as he hurried down the street. Were the cops still following him? He hoped that he’d given them the slip.

Bail. Freaking-A. He couldn’t believe that someone had actually ponied up the money for him.

He rounded the corner, and saw his benefactor waiting on him. Parker smiled. “Sure am glad to be seein’ you again.”

“You told me that Trace Weston would never give up his dancer.”

Parker blinked. The guy sounded angry. He took a quick step toward him. “Weston’s been obsessed with her for years. No way will he ever walk out on her—”

“You tried to kill them the other night.”

Parker’s lips snapped closed.

“That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I got pissed, okay? Seeing them on the TV, all the freakin’ time. Why does he get so much attention?” While Parker had nothing. “Trace is trash. He should be the one in the gutter.” Instead, Parker had to fight for every single thing that he had.

Life hadn’t been easy. No damn way. After Trace’s attack, it had been so tempting to just pop those little pills that would take his pain away. Again and again, he’d taken them.

Then he’d taken other things.

Trace Weston had risen, and Parker had fallen.

“You want him to lose everything, don’t you?”

Parker nodded.

“And you’d do anything to see him fail?”

“Anything…” Parker immediately swore.

“Good.”

His partner—because they were partners, right? Partners in the destruction of Trace Weston—stepped away from the wall. The sounds of the city were muted there, barely trickling past the thick brick walls of the alley.

Parker smiled at him. “What’s our next step? What do we need to—”

A blade shoved into his chest.

A gurgle slipped from Parker’s mouth.

“You need to die, and the world needs to start seeing Weston for the monster that he truly is.”

Parker felt his blood spurt from his chest when the knife jerked back. “Y-you…”

The knife slashed toward his neck. Parker tried to lift up his hands, but it was too late.

He fell to the ground, unable to scream, as the blood poured from him.

“You should die happy, you know. You will help to destroy Weston.”

Then he dropped something onto Parker. But Parker didn’t feel the object connect with him. He didn’t feel much of anything then.

***

The dancers collected their gear. They were soaked with sweat as they filed out of the studio.

Skye watched them go, smiling and waving even as the sweat dried on her skin. That had been an incredible class. Phenomenal.

I’m going to make it.

The smile wouldn’t leave her face. She needed to call Trace and tell— Her spine straightened. She would be calling Trace, but not yet.

“Looks like your students are happy.”

She glanced toward the front door. Noah stood there, watching her carefully.

She’d had the door open, and unlocked, all morning.

She wasn’t going to live her life under lock and key, not anymore. The studio had to be open during the day so that her students could come and go as they pleased.

“They are happy.” She flashed her smile once again. “Even though I just worked their asses off.” And her own. Her tights and her leotard clung tightly to her skin.

Noah’s lips stretched in a half-grin. She saw a dimple flash in his left cheek. “Why do I get the feeling you could be a drill sergeant?”

“Because I can be.” When it came to dance, that was her domain. She walked toward him, aware of a faint pull in her lower left calf. The leg had been doing so well lately, but she’d sure pushed hard during the morning class.

Don’t limp.

The old mantra slipped through her mind.

His gaze slid over her body. Lingered a little too long on the expanse of her legs. She shook her head at him. “You know, I am engaged to Trace.”

“Are you? I wasn’t sure, not after that scene yesterday.”

Her lips pursed. “I can be pissed and still love him.”

He edged closer to her. “I envy him.”

“I’m surprised you envy anyone.” Were billionaire bad boys supposed to envy other people?

“He’s always had you, hasn’t he?” Noah glanced away from her. “Do you ever wonder what he’d be like if you weren’t there?”

“He hasn’t always had me.” She picked up a towel. Swiped it over the sweat on the back of her neck. “We were together when we were teens, then apart for a decade. I don’t think that counts as always.” She looked up and found his gaze back on her.

His head was tilted to the right as he studied her. “My mistake.”