Mine to Take (Mine #1)(44)

“I wasn’t even aware how close I put the guy to death,” Trace said as the memory rose in his head. “He was trying to rape her. I saw…and I reacted. I hit him, again and again, until Skye pulled me off him.”

Sweat beaded Mitch’s forehead.

“That’s what I did to him,” Trace murmured as he stared directly into Mitch’s eyes. “So what do you think I’m going to do once I get my hands on the man who took her?”

Mitch backed up. “I didn’t take Skye! I’ve been here—”

“Actually, you came back to work the day after Ms. Sullivan was taken,” Reese said as he stood firm by the door. “We checked. We have lots of resources to do things like that.”

Mitch’s gaze darted toward Reese.

“She left you, and you couldn’t handle that…” Trace fought to keep his voice level. He wanted to pound into Mitch, but that wasn’t the plan. He had to walk a very delicate line here. Very delicate.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s not me! I wanted to help her—”

“You wanted to own her. You wanted her to be yours, but she couldn’t be…Skye didn’t love you, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t make her love you.”

A fist pounded into the door. “Doctor Loxley?”

“Looks like Janie called security after all,” Reese said flatly. “Some people just don’t know how to follow orders.”

“I didn’t want to own her.” Mitch shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “That was the dancer—Wolfe. He’s the one who was always controlling her. Telling her when to exercise. When to go home and sleep. What to freaking eat. He wanted to control everything about her life.”

Trace kept all emotion from his face. “I’m going to kill the man who took her.”

Mitch tensed. His eyelids jerked.

Such a small move.

“I am going to kill him,” Trace said deliberately, “because Skye wasn’t his to take.”

The guards had burst inside the room.

“She was never his,” Trace told the doctor. “Never.”

***

The guards shoved Trace and Reese outside of the hospital.

“Well, that didn’t go so smoothly,” Reese murmured as he gazed around at the hospital’s parking lot. “But at least none of the damn paparazzi are here to see you get your ass thrown into the street.”

“The meeting went exactly as I’d hoped.”

Skye wasn’t his to take.

When Trace had said those words, Mitch’s hands had fisted. His eyes had been tight and angry, and the man had clamped his lips together to stop himself from replying to Trace.

“The guy was angry, but that was probably because you basically accused him of being a kidnapper and a killer. And because, you know, you threatened to murder him.” Reese turned toward the car. “All right, boss, we need to back off.”

They weren’t backing any place. “I goaded him so that the fellow would make a mistake.”

Reese glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe it is the choreographer, Wolfe, maybe he’s…”

“I’ve got two agents on Robert Wolfe. They are watching him twenty-four, seven.” Just in case. “And now, you and I are going to take over the watch on Loxley.” Because his gut told him to stay close to the doctor.

He’d taken her pictures away. Packed up the office.

And the man in the video—that damn grainy video that Trace had watched again and again—he’d expertly injected Skye with that needle.

No hesitation.

The man who’d killed Carol had known just where to shove his knife. Known just how to twist that blade to cause maximum damage.

A doctor would know.

Trace headed toward the back of the building.

Waited.

When Loxley rushed out of the hospital ten minutes later, Trace was still waiting.

The doctor hopped into his car.

Sped away.

“Now it’s your turn to be stalked,” Trace whispered.

***

Footsteps.

They tapped across the floor, coming at a slow, steady pace toward her.

Skye was on the floor. She didn’t have the strength to stand any more.

My wrists are bleeding again.

The footsteps kept coming closer.

Skye didn’t move. She thought that perhaps she might just be imagining that sound. For days, she’d only heard— Her heartbeat.

Her screams.

“Who…” Skye tried to ask…Who’s there? But she couldn’t get the words out. Her throat had closed up. She couldn’t even cry anymore.

“It’s all right,” his voice told her, whispering in the darkness. “I’ve got you.”

Then she felt something against her lips. Something wet and cool and so wonderful. She choked at first as the water poured over her lips.

“Easy. I’m going to take care of you…”

She gulped the water. Drank and drank.

Her stomach cramped. Her throat convulsed.

The water spilled from her lips. Over her shirt.

“Open your eyes, Skye.”

They were closed? She blinked and the light hit her. Too bright and hard and she couldn’t see anything clearly.