Page 37 of Fighting for Scarlett

Or maybe it wasn’t her heart so much as her deeply ingrained desire to find love and happiness, and her interpretation of the connection she and Tate had shared that night.

The connection wasn’t real.

All in her head.

The man unconscious beside her didn't even like her, much less feel any sort of connection to her, but still keeping them both alive was the right thing to do.

The only thing to do.

She wasn’t a traitor, and she wasn’t a killer.

“Yeah, she’s in the car,” a voice outside spoke.

There was no doubt she was the “she” in question. The voice had a slight Mexican accent and who else would be shooting at them?

Just because Tate was intent on making her the villain didn't mean it was so.

She hadn't written any email to anyone offering to sell the Reactivator, and she would continue to repeat that to everyone until it finally sunk in.

“No, she’s not alone,” the voice spoke again. Then after a short pause continued, “No idea who he is. Some guy. Doesn’t look like they’re friends, though. He put her in his car and drove off with her. I’m guessing he’s from whatever agency was watching her house. What do you want me to do with him?”

Since she hadn't done more than open her eyes, whoever—and however many whoevers—were outside Tate’s car didn't yet realize that she was awake.

Problem was she didn't have a lot of options here. They already knew that the men chasing them were armed, they’d been shooting at the car and must have managed to hit the tires from the way Tate seemed to lose control. Fighting wasn’t an option, she didn't have a weapon and she was too weak to do much in hand-to-hand combat right now. Running was out, she wouldn’t get far, there was a chance that if she ran, she could lead them away from Tate though. Once they caught her, he’d just use it as further evidence to convict her but at least he’d be alive.

“All right. I’ll kill him, grab the girl, and we’ll be gone before the cops show,” the man continued speaking.

Kill Tate?

No.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

Whatever it meant for her she didn't care. Chances were, she’d be spending the rest of her life in a prison cell unless she could somehow prove her innocence, the least she could do was keep the man who had saved her life alive. He might not like her, might believe she was a traitor, but nonetheless, Tate had saved her in Mexico, and he had saved her again tonight.

Throwing herself over Tate’s limp body just as a loud crack sliced through the night, the searing pain near her right shoulder blade told her that the bullet had got her.

Had it got Tate, too?

At this close range, it could easily have passed through her body and into his.

While Raul had a reason to keep her alive, he had no such reason for Tate.

“What the—?” Tate’s angry growl filled the car, and the next thing she knew, Scarlett was being shoved sideways back into the seat she’d just jumped out of, and a series of pops echoed through the car.

Then silence.

Blessed silence.

When light suddenly flooded the car, Scarlett winced. It was too bright, and now that she thought about it, the silence was too quiet.

Everything seemed magnified.

Light.

Sound.

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