Page 17 of Fighting for Scarlett

Ooookay.

More than a single-word answer would help.

What exactly was Tate’s problem?

So, she might have wanted more than one night with him. Did that really make her such an awful person that she deserved to be treated like this?

Reaching the end of her rope, Scarlett dug her heels in. “What does that mean? I don’t understand. You got Raul Castillo, didn't you? Why can't we go inside and wait for whatever ride home you and your team have organized?”

With what could only be described as an irritated grunt, Tate spun around, grabbed her off her feet, threw her over his shoulder, and took off at a dead run toward the front gates of Raul’s estate.

Why did she get the feeling that something more was happening here than she was aware of? Tate’s anger seemed directed specifically at her, not the situation, and not the weapons trafficker who had abducted her.

It shouldn’t hurt so much.

Scarlett knew that fairytales were just that. Stories.

They weren't real.

In real life, you didn't fall madly in love, you didn't form an instantaneous connection with a man you didn't know just because you locked gazes with him.

There were no happy endings.

There was nothing but loneliness.

January 12th

6:31 P.M.

What game are you trying to play with me, little traitor?

As he ran with Scarlett draped over his shoulder, Tate felt uneasy. A sensation he hated. He liked to be in control of himself and his environment, and when something happened to shake up that control, it always threw him.

Right now, nothing seemed to be adding up.

Scarlett certainly wasn’t acting like she had been at Raul Castillo's of her own free will. The wounds on her body told a story, and it wasn’t one of a woman who had decided to betray her team and her country and sell secrets to the enemy.

If she and Raul had a business arrangement, then why had she been tortured?

Those wounds on her back couldn’t be self-inflicted. Not possible. And the ones on her wrists and ankles were similar to those he’d seen before when a victim had been restrained and tortured.

And she had been about to be murdered, horribly, when he and his team had shown up. There was no reason Raul would have had to do that if Scarlett had been there to do what she’d said she was in the email that had been found.

Had she gotten cold feet?

Decided that she couldn’t go through with it after all?

From what they knew of Raul Castillo, the man wasn’t a sadist, he didn't get off on torturing people. More businessman than anything else, Raul appeared to do what he did because he liked the money, excitement, and living his life on the edge. There were no accounts of him crossing those he did business with, it was one of the things that made him so successful. You knew what you were getting with him. While he might rip you off price-wise, he wasn’t going to double-cross you. Raul wanted to have a good reputation with his potential clientele.

The idea of him going off the deep end with Scarlett made zero sense.

Then again, none of this made sense.

Having put enough distance between them and the mansion, Tate slowed to a walk, checking around them to ensure they were safe. Once he was convinced they hadn't been followed and could wait things out until the extraction time in the early hours of tomorrow morning, he stopped.

While he’d heard her small grunts and moans of pain as he ran full out through the thick jungle, Scarlett hadn't protested, hadn't asked him to stop, hadn't complained. She’d just hung off his shoulder like she didn't have the energy to do anything else.

There had been a moment when he first got her on her feet, when he thought she was going to try something stupid. Something like trying to kill him in a desperate bid to escape her fate.

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