She just wanted to be with him.
He straightened her clothes, again with movements that were strangely tender. She’d thought he was furious with her, but he didn’t act like a man enraged as he settled her back on the motorcycle. He handed her the helmet. Hesitated. “Go back to red.”
She blinked at him and tried to catch her breath.
“I miss the red hair.”
Her lips curled. “And here I thought blondes had more fun.”
“You’re beautiful any way, and I’ll take you…” His voice roughened. “Any way I can get you.”
That was how she’d take him, too. Did that make her desperate? Lost? Jasmine didn’t really care.
His hand curled around her thigh and seemed to scorch her right through that fabric. “You matter to me.” The words were growled, heavy with arousal. “I would have walked through that fire for you. You matter.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You matter to me, too,” she said softly. But those weren’t the words she wanted to say. Fear held them back.
“I don’t even know when it happened, but I do know this…when that warehouse caught on fire, I knew my life was over, if you weren’t in it.”
She didn’t want to cry. Not again. She’d done plenty of that in the last week so she quickly blinked away the water that wanted to fill her eyes.
“Stay with me. Now…and for the days that are coming. See what we can be for each other.”
Didn’t he realize what she’d done? She’d already made that choice. When she’d left Victor and the safety of the FBI, she’d been choosing the life she might have with him. The life she wanted. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” Because she’d finally found the home that she’d sought for so long.
And that home—it was wherever Drake was.
He gave a grim nod, then climbed onto the bike. The motorcycle’s engine snarled to life once more, and soon they were whipping through the night. Her arms curled around him as the darkness passed in a blur, and she held him so tightly.
I love you. Those were the words she’d wanted to give him. Too fast. Too soon. That didn’t matter to her. Drake was in her heart, and when the moment was right, she would tell him.
Fear wouldn’t hold her back forever.
***
Drake didn’t stop again, not until they reached a small strip of pavement in the darkness. A landing pad. The lights on the helicopter were shining and the blades were already whirling. Drake had told the pilot to start up as soon as he saw them coming.
He tossed aside his helmet and reached for Jasmine’s hand. “Come on!” The wind from the helicopter blew against him. The sooner they got on that bird, the better.
“Wait, my bag!” Jasmine bent to retrieve the small bag that he’d stuffed into the motorcycle’s saddlebag.
The pilot was inside the chopper. The helicopter’s lights were blazing, so Drake couldn’t see inside to the guy, but he knew Quincy Cole would follow orders. He’d made special arrangements to have Quincy come with him to the mountains because the fellow was one of the few Drake trusted completely. The guy was good in a—
Gunfire rang out. The blast hit Drake in the shoulder and he stumbled back.
“Drake!” Jasmine grabbed for him.
Another shot rang out. Only this time, that shot hit her. It slammed into Jasmine even as Drake tried to twist his body and protect her.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
“No!” Drake roared as he pulled her tightly against him. He could feel her blood, pulsing from a wound on her stomach. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t.
“Did you really think you’d be a step ahead of me? There was no way I’d let you beat me to Jasmine,” a familiar voice called out. Not Quincy. Not Quincy… “I was just waiting until I could get you both together. It’s fitting for you to go out this way!”
Drake turned his head. The pilot had come out of the chopper, only it definitely wasn’t Quincy. This man was taller, bigger, and even though the light was behind him and Drake couldn’t see his face, he knew the man.
“Maxwell.”
Laughter. “Thanks for arranging my getaway ride for me. After I kill you two, it will be nice to fly away. Anna Jean was the one to teach me to fly, you see. That woman loved the sky.”
“D-Drake…?” Jasmine’s voice broke on his name.
“It’s all right.” I promised to protect her. “It’s just a graze, princess. You’re okay.”
“No, you’re not, Jasmine,” Maxwell told her, his words gleeful. “You’re bleeding out. That’s a gut shot. One designed to give you maximum pain, because I felt that was what I owed you. If you don’t get medical attention immediately, you’ll die.” That laughter again. “And you won’t be rising from the dead this time.”
Carefully, so carefully, Drake lowered Jasmine to the ground. “I didn’t find you…just to lose you again.” He wouldn’t lose her. “Don’t be afraid…of what I do.” Because he was going to do exactly what had to be done.
Maxwell wasn’t lying. It was a gut shot. And Drake was getting Jasmine that immediate medical attention because she would not be dying on him.
She nodded, her head barely moving against the ground. Her breath was choking out.
I’m so sorry, princess.
He’d failed her, again, and she was about to see just what he truly was.
He slipped the knife from his boot. He always had a weapon on him. Did Jasmine realize that? Probably not. Because she didn’t know all his secrets.
“I want you to stay right there!” Maxwell ordered him. He could hear the man’s footsteps coming closer. “I want you to watch while she dies in front of you. I mean, you watched my Anna Jean die, didn’t you? So it’s only fitting that you watch that treacherous bitch Jazz die, too!”
“I’m…c-cold…” Jasmine whispered.
“I’ll warm you.”
Her gaze flickered to him. “You…already did.”
Drake swallowed and kept the knife concealed. He just needed a few precious seconds to attack his prey.
But Jasmine didn’t have seconds.
The gun shoved into the back of Drake’s head. “Watch her. Stare right at that bitch as she chokes on her blood and you have to—”
Drake lunged up and twisted around in a flash. He knocked the gun out of the bastard’s hand. Then he drove his knife right into Maxwell Case’s heart. “Don’t ever call her a bitch.”
Maxwell’s breath heaved out. His hands clamped around Drake’s arms.
Drake twisted the knife and he smiled. “You should have stayed the hell away from me…and what was mine.”
Then he shoved that bastard to the ground. The knife was still in Maxwell’s heart. Exactly where it belonged.
Drake whirled back to Jasmine. “I’ve got you, princess.” He lifted her. Carried her to the chopper. He strapped her in and used those straps to put as much pressure on the wound as he could. She cried out in pain, and the sound wrenched through him.