Page 76 of Fighting for Scarlett

It felt like being imprisoned.

It felt like everything had shrunk until all that existed was her and this cell and her fear which seemed much too big for the tiny space.

Too big and growing.

And growing.

Consuming her.

Memories of being locked up in Raul’s dungeon, dreading whatever was coming next tumbled through her mind. The pain of being whipped, her skin splitting, warm blood dripping down and puddling on the floor under her feet. Blows striking her all over while she was powerless to do anything to block them because she was restrained.

The absolute horror of begging for an orgasm she didn't want but needed.

Breathing accelerating as memories mingled with her current situation, she pressed a hand to her chest, above her heart, in a feeble attempt to slow its racing beat. Were any of the guards here on Raul’s payroll? It might sound crazy, but no crazier than someone from Prey working with the weapons trafficker. Was it really his game she was tangled up in and not Prey’s? Had he organized for her to be isolated and vulnerable?

With a small whimper, the only sound other than her own ragged breathing, Scarlett shoved to her feet.

She couldn’t sit still any longer.

She had to move before her panic swallowed her whole.

Prey said they believed in her, the guys, her team, and they were on her side, but then why had they just left her here?

Were they working on a way to get her out?

Was this just Prey’s way of keeping her safe and attempting to draw out the mole?

Had they turned on her and now thought she was guilty?

Since she was locked up, there was no way she could get any answers, and it was making her doubt everybody, even the people she thought were her family.

Doubting Tate, too.

How could he do this to her?

And why was she being so unreasonable about it when she knew exactly why he was doing it?

His job.

It meant a lot to him. He’d told her about his dad and how the man was serving a sentence for a crime he didn't commit, so she knew this had to be hard on him. If nothing else, she did actually believe that Tate believed in her innocence. It had been evident in the guilt and remorse in his tone when she figured out his plan to have her arrested.

He believed in her, and it didn't change anything.

It wasn’t enough.

Even though he knew she was innocent, he was still prepared to hand her over to protect himself.

How could she blame him for that though?

They hadn't known each other long. They’d only met just before Halloween, not quite three months ago. Was it fair for her to hope that he would prioritize her over a career he’d been building for years? Just because he wanted to go out with her didn't mean he was prepared for the risks continuing to protect her would come with.

It was understandable that he would walk away to protect his job and freedom.

Why should she be angry about it?

“Because it’s not fair,” she hissed, beginning to pace around the small cell feeling like a caged animal.

It wasn’t fair.

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