Mine to Take (Mine #1)(40)

“Wh-when did you start carrying that?” Skye asked him. Her eyes looked huge—and scared.

“I always carry it. I just usually made sure you didn’t see it before.” Because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her away. But this moment wasn’t about reassuring Skye. It was about finding out what the hell was happening in that alley.

He pushed open the rear door, but he made sure to stay low. To stay covered and— “She’s hurt!” Skye’s cry.

Trace had seen the woman, too. A cop in uniform sprawled on the dirty ground.

Skye tried to lunge toward the woman, but Trace kept her back. “Wait…” Because whoever had injured the cop could still be close by. Waiting to strike again.

He looked to the left. To the right.

A weak moan escaped from the woman, and, at that sound, Skye sprang away from him. She hit her knees beside the cop and reached for the knife in the woman’s chest.

“Don’t!” Trace ordered as he lunged forward. His left hand flew up, locking around hers. “Leave the blade in.”

“What?” Skye demanded, expression shocked. “We have to help her! She’s dying!”

“And she’ll die faster if you pull out the knife.” He’d seen attacks like this before.

“It’s Carol,” Skye whispered. “Carol Jones. She took me home last night.”

And she’d apparently stayed around to keep an eye on Skye.

He released Skye’s hand. “Call 9-1-1,” he told her. “Tell them that a cop is down.” They’d haul ass getting to that location then. He kept his gun in his right hand. The attacker had to be close. He wanted to break away and search for the SOB, but Carol was choking on her own blood right then.

Shit.

He tilted Carol’s head. Tried to help her breathe. Blood covered her lips. Her eyes were hazy, pain-filled.

“It’s going to be all right,” Trace told her. He wanted the words to be true and not a f*cking lie, but the killer had known exactly what he was doing when he attacked. The knife had plunged straight into her heart and…Trace leaned forward.

The bastard had twisted the blade. For maximum damage and maximum pain.

“The ambulance is coming,” Skye whispered. “Help’s coming, Carol. Just hold on.” Skye’s fingers curled around Carol’s hand.

Carol’s breathing seemed so ragged and loud.

That bleary gaze of hers flickered to Trace, then it darted over his shoulder.

“You saw him,” Trace said.

Carol’s breathing wasn’t quite so loud.

Her gaze darted over his shoulder again.

“He ran that way?”

Her lips parted. She tried to speak.

“Carol?” Skye cried. “Carol?”

Carol’s eyes were still open. Still looking over Trace’s shoulder.

But the officer was dead.

In the distance, an ambulance’s siren wailed.

Too late. Too f*cking late.

He surged to his feet. Spun toward the snaking alley that Carol had been looking at in her very last moment.

You couldn’t have gone far, you SOB.

“Take this,” Trace told Skye. He shoved his gun into her hands. “Stay with the cop. Help’s not far away.”

But he wouldn’t waste any more time.

“No! You need a weapon!”

He yanked out his back-up weapon from his ankle holster. “I’ve got it covered.” Then Trace took off running down that alley even as Skye shouted his name.

Carol fired her gun. Did she hit you, *? Did she?

He glanced down and saw the spatter of blood drops.

She did. And I’m gonna follow your f*cking trail of blood until I find you.

“Trace!” Skye yelled.

He kept running. He was ending this, before Skye was the one he found dead in a blood-soaked alley.

***

Skye stared down at Carol. The cop’s eyes were closed now. Skye had closed them. Carol’s face was chalk-white. Her lips stained red with blood.

The scent of blood filled Skye’s nose.

Carol Jones hadn’t deserved this. To die in an alley, surrounded by garbage.

To die in someone else’s place. My place.

Skye still held tight to Carol’s hand. But her gaze was on the alley. Trace was gone. He’d run after the attacker.

She didn’t want Trace dying in her place.

Not Trace.

Not Reese.

Not Carol.

“Come after me!” Skye shouted. “Stop hurting the others! You let me be the one! Don’t hurt anyone else!”

A tear leaked from her eye.

The ambulance’s siren was louder.

“Let me be the one!” She called out again. “Don’t hurt anyone else!”

Doors slammed. Footsteps rushed toward her. She looked up and saw Alex rushing her way. Behind him, she could see EMTs. More cops.

Alex blanched when he saw Carol.

“I’m so sorry,” Skye whispered.

The EMTs pushed her out of the way.

They tried to work on Carol.

You can’t save the dead.

Carol’s death was on her.

Skye looked back into the alley. No sign of Trace. What would she do if her stalker turned his attention on Trace?

“Skye.”