“Trace?” She barely breathed his name. “Tell me…tell me you weren’t at the crash.”
He didn’t want to lie to her anymore.
“She wasn’t hung up on you. Skye had other lovers, so you had to put a plan in place. You needed to get her vulnerable. She was the celebrity in New York, surrounded by too many people. So you took that celebrity status away—you took her dancing away. You caused that wreck.”
“What the f**k!” Trace leapt to his feet. His chair slammed down on the floor behind him.
“She was so hurt in the crash that she had to give up dancing, and that was exactly what you wanted.”
Trace stalked around the table, heading right for that bastard.
Alex shoved away from his chair and stood up, fists clenched.
“You took away the dancing because that is what originally took her away from you, right? That’s what Parker said. Skye left to follow her dreams in New York. She left you.”
“No!” Skye’s denial. That sound halted Trace before he could drive his fist into the cop’s face. “It wasn’t like that. Trace was joining the military. He…he’s the one who left me. He told me to go.” Her hair brushed over her shoulders as she shook her head. “He rejected me, not the other way around.”
“Then maybe he changed his mind.” Alex didn’t glance her way. “Maybe he saw so much blood and death during his deployment that it made him want life again. Want you. But he had to come up with a way of getting you back…and he did. He made you afraid. So afraid that the only person you could turn to for help would be—”
Trace grabbed the guy and shoved him back against the wall. “You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“And you just assaulted an officer.” Alex smiled at him even as the door to the interrogation room flew open. Two uniformed cops rushed in and grabbed Trace’s arms. “I don’t care how damn rich you are, Weston, you’re under arrest.”
He could have broken free from the cops. Could have gone right after the detective again. Instead, Trace offered the cop his own, grim smile. “You’ve made a mistake, detective. A very, very serious one.”
Alex straightened his shirt. “I don’t think so. What I’ve done is keep her—” He jerked his thumb toward Skye. “Safe. I’ve shown her just what you really are.”
The uniformed cops pulled Trace toward the door. He glanced over at Skye. “She already knows just what I am.” She was the only one who knew what he was really like, deep inside.
He hated the pain he could see on her face.
The detective’s fault. His gaze cut back to Alex. “Soon enough, you’ll see, too.”
“Is that a threat?” Alex demanded.
“More of a promise…” Then the cops forced him from the room. You should know, detective, I always keep my promises.
***
Her knees felt like rubber.
“You need to sit down, Skye,” Alex said, speaking in a soft, soothing voice to her as he pulled out her chair once more.
“I don’t want to sit down.” She wanted him to stop treating her like some kind of broken bird. Skye raked a hand over her face. “It’s not Trace.”
“I know you don’t want to believe that—”
“He saved me!”
Alex walked closer to her. Stopped less than a foot away. “That’s what he wants you to believe. Are you so sure he wasn’t at your studio before the fire started?”
“He wasn’t! I was there, Reese was there—”
“Reese is a trained agent, yet it looks like someone got the drop on him. Someone snuck up and knocked the guy out. I’m guessing not many folks could do that, but Trace Weston, he could.”
Trace could do anything.
He was at the wreck?
“You’ve got to stop seeing him with some freakin’ rose colored glasses. He wanted you back, so he got you. He set up everything so that you had to return to him. Don’t you see? He makes the threats, then he saves you from them.”
This couldn’t be happening. “I need to talk to him.” She took a fast step toward the door.
Alex moved and blocked her path. “He’s headed to booking. You can’t talk to him now.”
“You’re not really going to arrest him!”
“Yes, I am.” His lips tightened. “And I figure he’ll have some fancy-ass lawyer who comes in and gets him out by morning, but you know what? That gives you tonight. A night to be safe. A night to think about Weston. Every moment you’ve spent with him. Realize who the hell he really is, and get smart. Get away from him. And you can stay alive.” His fingers lifted and curled around her shoulders. “I’m trying to help you. You—dammit, you remind me of my sister. She was like you. Trusting the wrong man. So sure he was right.” His eyes glinted with a wild intensity.
“Alex—”
“She was eighteen when that right man beat her to death because he didn’t want any other man getting close to her. Eighteen. He thought Susan was his, and he wasn’t going to let her go.” He gave a rough shake of his head, but his hands were light on her shoulders. “I’ve seen the way Weston looks at you. You think that man’s not obsessed? He is. And I believe he would do anything to have you.”
I would kill for you. In an instant, with no hesitation. Her lips felt numb as she said, “He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“That’s what Susan used to say, too. No matter how many times I told her otherwise…”
The interrogation room door opened again. “Captain wants to see you, Griffin,” the female officer said as she stood on the threshold. “Wants you now.”
Alex dropped his hold on Skye. “Make sure she gets home safely, will you, Carol?”
“Of course.”
He backed away from Skye. “Remember what I said, Skye. Think about him.”
Then he was gone.
The female officer stood uncertainly in the doorway. “Um, miss, you ready for that ride?”
Her nails dug into her palms. “Where’s Trace Weston?”
“Booking.”
Right. That was the same thing Alex had said. Skye’s gaze slid to the table. To the photograph of her crash. He was there. “Then, yes, I am ready to go.”
***
The small apartment seemed to be closing in on her. Skye sat on the couch, unable to sleep. Two a.m., and she was wide awake.