Page 87 of Fighting for Scarlett

There was no time to worry about what the landing would be like.

His girl was counting on him.

“We should go in,” Phantom agreed, his dark eyes so full of understanding that there was no way Tate couldn’t nod in acceptance of his support.

“If it was Caite in there, you’d risk it all,” Rex reminded Rocco, whose brown eyes seemed to darken at the thought.

“All right, let’s do this,” Rocco agreed.

Adrenalin was pumping through his bloodstream, the only thing keeping him on his feet after several days of not more than a couple of snatched hours of sleep here and there. Still, that and fear for Scarlett were the only things he needed to function as he and the rest of his team, and Rocco’s team gained entrance to the property.

Unlike last time when bullets had been flying in all directions, this time, it was silent as they breached the perimeter and headed across the manicured gardens toward the house.

Deadly silent.

The kind of silence that had his skin crawling and the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

That silence continued as they entered the house. It was obvious it had been recently inhabited. A stack of dirty dishes sat on the counter above the dishwasher, the fridge was fully stocked, there was a book, open and upside down, on the table, and a TV was on.

“Blood in a storage room off the garage,” Bubba’s voice came through the comms.

While there was no way to know for sure that it was Scarlett’s blood, his gut told him that it was.

“Sounds coming from upstairs,” Ace said moments later.

The only signs of life in the entire house. From the looks of things, it seemed like everyone had left in a hurry, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether once again, something had tipped off Raul Castillo that his place was about to be raided.

If he’d fled in a hurry, he had no reason to leave Scarlett alive. He wanted her dead and she wasn’t going to give him the intel he wanted.

No matter what he did.

His stomach muscles clenched and twisted at the thought of what Raul would most likely do to her to try to get her to talk before he counted her a loss and eliminated her.

Heading for the stairs, he took them three at a time, no longer concerned that someone was going to start shooting at them or launch any kind of attack. For whatever reason, Raul was gone, and while he was praying that it was Scarlett making the sounds Ace had heard there was every chance it wasn’t.

“Tate, get in here. Now,” Ace’s urgent voice came through the comms.

The tone amped up his fear several notches. “What's wrong?” he demanded, quickening his pace.

“It’s Scarlett,” Ace replied.

He could hardly make himself say the words. “Is she …?”

“She’s alive. But she’s … look I can't explain, just hurry up,” Ace ordered.

Panicking was the last thing he should be doing right now, but it was exactly what he was doing as he reached the top of the grand staircase and headed in the direction of the whimpers and moans he could now hear clearly.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he located the room where Ace and Scarlett were.

In the middle of the bed was Scarlett. Her skin was flushed, her hair a tangled mess of thick brown waves around her head, her eyes wild.

Ace was trying to approach her and calm her down, but it only made things worse.

It was clear something was wrong with Scarlett, and because she’d confided in him about what Raul had done to her last time he feared he knew exactly what it was.

“Back off,” he whispered to Ace as he approached the bed.

“Tate, she has?—”

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