“Help me…” Jasmine’s voice was so low that Drake had to strain in order to hear it. “Please.”
“I wanted to explain before,” Hardin said, his words rolling right over her soft plea, “but you didn’t give me a chance. I’m a bounty hunter. She’s wanted in Texas—”
“No, I’m not,” Jasmine said, sounding desperate.
“—and I’m taking her back. I’m gonna collect on everything that’s owed to me.”
A bounty hunter? Interesting. Drake braced his legs apart. He kept his hands loose at his sides. “The first thing you’re going to do is drop the knife.”
Hardin laughed. “Seriously? Dumbass, we’re not in your casino anymore…” He pushed forward, coming more into the light, but carefully staying away from the street. So no one else will see you’re a bastard with a knife against a woman’s side. “Your goons aren’t here, and a useless playboy like you sure doesn’t scare me.”
Drake almost smiled at that. He was far, far from useless, especially in a fight. He’d seen more blood and death than Hardin could imagine.
“First, you drop the knife,” Drake said. “Then you let her go.”
“I’m never letting her get away—she’s gonna be my payday!”
“Then…” Drake said, because he wanted to be clear. “I’m going to hurt you. Because I think you hurt her.” That knife was far too close to Jasmine’s side. He knew the fool had cut her. “And you’re going to pay for that.”
“You f**ked her,” Hardin said with certainty. “You fell for the eyes, you f**ked her, and now you want more just like—”
Jasmine drove her elbow back into the guy’s stomach. He grunted and his hold eased on her. When his hold eased, Jasmine shot forward, rushing right toward Drake.
She ran straight into his arms.
And she seemed to…fit.
“Sonofabitch…” Hardin snarled as he leapt after her.
Drake pushed Jasmine behind his back. He kept his focus on Hardin. “I told you what to do…I gave you a chance…” Now he’d just take care of things. His way.
Hardin lunged at him. The guy still had the knife in his hand. A quick chop and Drake sent that knife falling from what he knew were Hardin’s now numb fingers.
First order…drop the knife.
Drake kicked the knife aside. “Bounty hunters don’t drive a knife into women. That’s not the way their business works.”
Jasmine was silent behind him.
“Did he cut you?” Drake demanded without taking his gaze off his current prey.
Hardin swung at him then, a left hook that Drake easily caught—and held—in his fist.
“J-just a little…” Jasmine whispered back.
“A little is too much.” Drake slammed his forehead into Hardin’s. The guy stumbled back, and Drake let loose then. His hits made instant contact, they were brutal in their intensity, and in seconds, Hardin was on the ground. He was—
“Stop!” Jasmine was in front of Drake. His fist was up, ready to strike again.
But he’d never hit her.
And no one else will, either.
He shook his head as that thought snaked through his mind.
“This isn’t your fight. You need to get out of here.” Jasmine looked back down at Hardin. The guy was rising to his feet. “Just leave him here.”
What? “He attacked you with a knife!”
“And you just beat the shit out of him.” Her voice lowered and he was pretty sure he heard her mutter, “Scary. So didn’t see that coming.”
He didn’t want her scared of him. Wait…what the f**k is happening here?
Her hand went to her side. He grabbed that hand and felt the warmth of her blood on his fingertips. Fury spiked through him. “That beating is just getting started.” She’d lied to him. It wasn’t a little cut. The guy had sliced her.
“Let’s go,” Jasmine said. Her fingers tangled with his. “Just get me out of here, okay?”
Hardin was on his feet. Not advancing. But backing up.
Drake pulled Jasmine closer to his body. “You’re no bounty hunter.”
“Check my ID, check—”
“I don’t need to see your fake ID. No bounty hunter in his right mind would use a knife on a woman. I’ll call the cops and then—”
Hardin laughed. “Hero, you don’t even know the game that’s being played.”
Game. “I know that in any game, I win.”
Hardin backed deeper into the shadows.
“I warned you before to stay away from her. You didn’t listen.” Drake was pretty sure he’d broken the guy’s nose. Good. “I’m not warning you again.” And he also wasn’t done. He was going to—
“I’m not the only one who’ll be coming for you.” Hardin was still retreating and still making threats. “Get ready, hero. Get. Ready.”
Then Hardin turned and fled into the darkness. Drake heard the sound of his pounding footsteps and he wanted to rush after the guy, but he knew that the second he gave chase, Jasmine would vanish.
His hand still held hers. That was probably the only reason she hadn’t already run from him.
He stared into the darkness, listening to those fleeing footsteps.
“I’m sorry,” Jasmine said, her voice as soft as a breath.
He gazed down at her. Her head was bent.
“I-I got blood on you.”
He caught her chin with his left hand. Forced her head to rise, but in the darkness, he couldn’t read her expression.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, then softer, “for everything.”
“Don’t lie, princess.”
Then he was pulling her from that alley. The light of the strip seemed even brighter as he hustled her into his car.
“No, I’m bleeding—”
“And if I don’t get you some help, you’re gonna keep bleeding.” She would need stitches. He’d take her to a doctor. Then he’d get his answers. Drake hurried around the car. It was a sleek, sexy ride. A black Porsche that could cut right through the night. The seats were leather and—
And now the car smelled of vanilla.
“I-I can’t go to a hospital. They’ll ask questions. Questions that I can’t answer.”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Are you wanted in Texas?” Had that part been true?