Page 69 of Fighting for Scarlett

“Scarlett,” he called her name again when she didn't answer him.

Fear sliced through his veins.

Was she already dead?

Every single reason why he never wanted to risk falling for someone flashed through his mind as he fought with his seatbelt.

His side of the car had landed on the ground, which meant he was resting against the driver’s door, but with Scarlett’s side in the air, the only thing keeping her in her seat was her seatbelt.

“Answer me, Scarlett,” he ordered, harsher than he should have, but panic was beginning to bubble up inside him.

Why had he agreed to this?

Years of training, years of experience, years of honing his skills, and he went and did something this stupid.

If Scarlett was dead, there was nobody else to blame but himself.

No matter how badly she wanted to come here, he should have insisted they either call in backup or send someone else from Prey. If they lost this chance to catch the mole there would be another, and Scarlett wouldn’t have been in the firing line.

Checking his weapon was still in the holster at his side, Tate planted his feet against the driver’s door and scanned the empty parking lot ensuring the mole wasn’t moving in to check that they'd been successful.

The car creaked ominously, and he was painfully aware that one wrong move could set the whole thing alight. A little friction could light the tiniest of sparks, which could be all it took.

Carefully, he straightened then reached over to press his fingertips to the slender column of Scarlett’s neck. His relief at the thud of her pulse was tampered by the blood streaking her face.

Damn, he was sick of seeing his woman covered in blood.

She’d been through enough, this had to stop.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he murmured as he smoothed a lock of dark hair away from the blood on her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ll get you out of here, and I swear to you I will do whatever it takes to end this. To keep you safe. I didn't fight against the fears I've had since childhood to take a chance on having you in my life only to lose you now.”

Taking one of her arms, he draped it across his shoulders, then balancing her weight against his chest, he slid an arm around behind her back and unsnapped her seatbelt.

Immediately, her entire weight rested against him, but she was small, and other than bumps and bruises, he wasn’t injured. Slipping his other arm under her knees, he cradled her against him, taking a moment to touch his lips to the top of her head and be grateful they were both still alive.

Then he knelt and set her at his feet. Using the steering wheel to brace himself so he didn't step on Scarlett, he grabbed the passenger side door handle. As much as he wanted to yank on it and get his girl out of there, he forced himself to go slow. There was every chance the door had been damaged and wouldn’t open.

If that happened, he’d have to try the back door, and if that didn't work, he’d have to risk kicking out a window.

But luck was on his side for once.

The door handle turned, and he shoved it as open as he could get it.

As he reached down to pick Scarlett up, she began to stir. “Tate?”

Her voice was a mere hint of a sound, but it was the most beautiful one he’d ever heard. Scarlett was alive, and while the last thing she needed was another injury, at least she was cognizant and aware, and that was more than he could ask for.

“Right here, sweetheart,” he assured her, sweeping his fingertips across her cheek before gathering her into his arms. “We have to get out of the car. I’m going to climb out, all I need you to do is hold onto me. Can you do that, little fighter?”

Wincing, she nodded her head. Although Scarlett looked weak, her grip was strong as she wound her arms around his neck and held on just like he’d told her to.

With his height and Scarlett’s small size, it didn't take much effort for him to get them both out of the car. Once his feet hit the ground he was running, eyes scanning the trees of the park that surrounded the parking lot and the road in search of anything out of place.

When he felt like they were a safe distance, Tate dropped to his knees, placing Scarlett between him and a large tree trunk, giving her all the protection he could.

“What happened?” she asked, voice trembling as her hands fisted in his shirt.

“Car blew up.”

---