Mine to Keep (Mine #2)(40)

Yes, it had been. She sucked in a deep breath. She was furious with Trace, but not with this guy. “I’m sorry, you’ve been nothing but kind to me, and you don’t deserve for me to be snapping at you.”

Surprise flickered over his face.

“What?” She forced a laugh. “I promise, I’m not usually a mega-bitch.”

“I never thought you were.”

Skye wondered just what he had thought. He opened his mouth as if he’d ask her a question, but then his lips clamped together.

Her hands tightened around the towel. “What is it?”

“You knew your parents, right? You didn’t join the system until you were much older.”

She nodded. The system. The trail of foster homes that she’d visited over the years.

Skye pulled on a loose sweatshirt and a pair of jogging shorts. She felt too…exposed talking to Noah in just her leotard and tights.

“I never knew my birth parents.” Anger slipped through his voice. Pain. “I always wondered…where did I come from? Who the hell am I, really?”

Skye tossed aside the towel. She slid off her ballerina slippers and put on her tennis shoes. “When I was a little girl, my mother was amazing. She was the center of my life. We baked cookies. Read stories together at bedtime. Played hide and seek for hours.” The memories were there, warming her heart as they always did. Skye tied her shoe laces and then straightened. “But then she…got sick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Her mind wasn’t right.” Such simple words to describe the psychotic episodes that had started to plague her mother. “She killed my father one night. They were driving home. People saw them. She was at the wheel. He was trying to grab it, to take control, but she drove them straight to their deaths.”

And they left me alone.

“Christ, I didn’t—”

“I know my past. I know where I came from, and each day, I wonder…is that where I’m going? Will I wind up like her?”

He swore.

“Sometimes, not knowing isn’t so bad.” She said this with a certainty that came from her soul. “When you don’t know, then you can think the best.” She gazed into his eyes. “You were given up because your family wanted you to have a good life. They wanted you to thrive.”

He looked down at his hands. “I did. For the first thirteen years, my adoptive parents were my world.”

The first thirteen…“What happened?”

“They loved to sail.” His breath blew out slowly. “Their boat sank when a storm came up. The winds were so strong. I tried to save them, but I just wasn’t strong enough.”

Her stomach clenched. He’d watched them die.

“I kept my mother up the longest. I told her that I wouldn’t let go, no matter what happened.” Pain darkened his eyes. “And I was still holding her, when the rescue teams finally came in. They pulled her from my arms, and I realized then that she’d been dead for hours.”

She couldn’t just stand there. Not with that much pain in his voice and his eyes. Skye stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

At first, Noah didn’t move. He seemed stunned.

“I know, I probably stink to high heaven,” she said, trying to lighten that pain, “but sometimes, we just need a touch.” To say that we’re not alone.

His arms lifted and closed around her. “I envy him,” he said again. His voice rumbled against her. Then he let her go, and he headed for the door.

When Noah was gone, Skye glanced around her studio.

Noah was lost. She’d been that way once. So scared and alone. Then she’d found Trace.

Or had he found her?

Rolling her shoulders, she turned away from the wall of mirrors. Another class would be there in a few hours. She needed to get ready to go for them.

And she needed to figure out what she was going to say to Trace when she saw him again.

She hadn’t slept the night before. Just been in the dark, in that narrow bed, thinking about him.

Her phone rang then, the soft tone instantly alerting her because it was his ring tone.

Skye hurried over to the desk she’d set up. She grabbed the phone. “Trace—”

“He needs you.”

The voice was low and raspy. Definitely male. But…it didn’t sound like Trace. “Who is this?”

“Don’t you want to help him?”

Despite the sweat still drying on her, Skye felt chilled.

“The alley is just a few blocks away from you. Hurry. Go fast. Maybe you’ll save him.”

She didn’t move. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Look for the art. He had a killer view.”

The call ended.

Skye pulled the phone from her ear. This was crazy. She immediately tried to call Trace back.

She just got his voice mail.

So she dialed his office. A direct line that should’ve connected her to him.

Voicemail.

What was going on?

Maybe you’ll save him.

Skye grabbed for her bag. Her pepper spray waited inside.

She rushed from the studio. Glanced to the left, then the right.

There was an art shop just four blocks away. She took off running. Maybe this was just some ridiculous prank.