“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.
He was before her. A big, hulking form. Blurry.
“I’ll get you cleaned up,” he promised her.
Because she was filthy and bloody.
But I’m not dead.
“I will be the one you need. The only one. I will be the one who takes care of you from now on. You don’t have to worry about anyone else. No director telling you that you’re eating too much, that you need to work out more, to practice more…”
Robert?
“I knew you hated that life.”
She still couldn’t see him clearly. Her eyes just wouldn’t focus with that sudden light.
His voice was husky and low, as if he were talking to a lover.
Is that what I am to him?
“I would come and watch you dance. Not just at your shows, but during rehearsal. I knew you needed me…”
The water was gone.
She tilted her head back. Stared up at him.
“Sleeping Beauty…finally waking up to see me.”
Skye shook her head. “Not…Sleeping Beauty…” His features were sharpening, coming into focus before her.
“You’re my Beauty. And I’ll be the one to wake you up. The one who gives you life.” He’d pushed the water away. The container spilled, and water poured over the floor. “Or death.”
She could see him now. Skye stared into his face. Looked straight into the eyes of a man who was crazy.
As crazy as he’d accused her of being.
“There’s no going back now,” Mitch Loxley told her, “I’ve got you.”
***
The windows of the brownstone were boarded up. A giant KEEP OUT sign covered the front entrance.
“Yeah, yeah, got it,” Reese said into his phone.
Trace glanced over at him. The weight of his gun pressed into Trace’s side.
“The brownstone is in a cousin’s name. That’s why it didn’t come up when we did a property search for Dr. Loxley.”
Because Trace had gotten his team to look up any and all properties tied to Mitch Loxley.
But his agents had come up with nothing.
Not anymore.
Trace had known that if he got close enough, if he taunted the guy, if he pushed him far enough, Loxley would break.
But he might try to take Skye with him when he shatters.
“The cops are on their way,” Reese continued, voice roughening. “We should wait—”
Trace pulled his weapon from his holster. Thunder rumbled overhead. “No, we shouldn’t.” Because he knew Skye was in that place. Scared. Hurt?
He was getting her the hell out of there.
I’m coming, baby, I’m coming.
Chapter Ten
Mitch’s fingers slid over her cheek. “I was so mad at you. When you went back to him…”