Page 40 of Saving Scarlett

“Phantom, we need to learn more about who is in Victor’s gang and where they are holding up,” I said, my voice hard. “If I can track down one of his men, I can get information out of him.”

“Okay.” The sound of rapid keystrokes accompanied Phantom’s words, the tapping driving up my heart rate. “Let me see what else I can dig up on Victor’s organization, and we’ll devise our strategy from there.”

Two more hours passed while I waited for Phantom to get back to me. Unable to pace any longer, and having scoured through the documents he’d sent me multiple times, setting up a bodyguard for my sister, and then contacting my sister to argue with her about it, I finally nodded off on the sofa when my phone notified me of a call.

“Got some fresh intel for you, Boss.” Phantom’s voice crackled over the phone as I stood and leaned against the wall, my muscles twitching with the need to do something useful to get my Little Red back. “It seems Victor has a few key players in his organization who are crucial to his operations, but there are plenty who do the grunt work. They may be your way in.”

“Send me everything you’ve got,” I said, my fingers gripping the phone tightly. Phantom had never let me down before, and I knew he wouldn’t start now, but my patience was still waning.

“Check your email. It’s all there.” Although I thought I understood what he’d said, the sound of him munching on chips made it difficult to translate. I rolled my eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, Phantom’s casual demeanor was oddly comforting.

“Thanks,” I muttered, ending the call and pulling up the secured email on my laptop. The information flashed across the screen, and my eyes scanned through it at lightning speed. The bastards were going down, one way or another, but the sooner I found them, the better.

Studying the photographs and profiles Phantom provided, I committed each face and detail to memory. They were low-level thugs, but they were still dangerous—especially in numbers. I needed a plan that would allow me to get close without putting Scarlett at risk, and I had no qualms about torturing a few of Victor’s men to do it.

Tapping my fingers against my thigh in frustration, I searched through the names and details again, my eyes straining from my exhaustion. Images of Scarlett’s gentle smile and her dark brown eyes haunted me, spurring me to find a solution, even as my body threatened to shut down from going so long injured and with no sleep.

“Gotcha,” I murmured as my gaze locked onto one member of the gang. My target. He was young, inexperienced, and most importantly, due to make a solo pickup later tonight. That, in itself, made it my best chance. I intended to track him down and get what I needed from him. With any luck, he would lead me straight to Scarlett.

“Time for a visit, kid,” I said under my breath, my determination hardening into an icy resolve. I might have been a cold-blooded killer, but my Little Red’s warmth had started to thaw my frozen heart, and I would do whatever it took to ensure her safety.

As I slipped on my gloves and grabbed my weapons, a single thought echoed through my mind: Victor Delacroix’s gang would soon learn that they had messed with the wrong man... and the wrong woman. Scarlett was a survivor, and I would always be the monster hiding in the shadows and slaying her dragons for her, even though we both knew she could slay them herself.

Chapter 35

The Survivor

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when I jolted awake, not sure what day it was, my heart hammering against my bruised rib cage when the dim light filtering through the dusty windows of the warehouse reminded me of where I was. After Victor and Miguel had left, I’d stared at the walls until I’d fallen asleep, with nothing more than my thoughts and the sound of footsteps outside the door to keep me company.

The shadows clung to the corners of the small room like cobwebs. Hugging my knees to my chest, I shivered against the damp cold that seeped through the concrete walls. My body ached, bruises mottling my arms and legs. I ran my fingers over the raw skin on my wrists, chafed from the ropes they’d used to bind me. My throat burned, dry and cracked from lack of water. They kept me weak, just strong enough to stay alive, but too feeble to fight back.

Needing a respite, I squeezed my eyes shut, but the darkness behind my eyelids was no escape. Flashes of memory played like a slideshow of nightmares—the van screeching up beside me, rough hands dragging me inside, the blindfold cinched so tight I saw stars.

“Please...” My voice scraped against the rawness in my throat. “Please just let me go.”

Only the echoes of my plea answered back. I was alone. No one knew where I was, and no one was coming to save me.

Despair pressed down with such weight I could barely breathe. What was the point in fighting anymore? They had won. My spirit was broken, shattered beyond repair like rays of light swallowed up in this endless gloom.

I bowed my head, tears burning trails down my cheeks. How much more could I endure before the last flicker of hope inside me finally went out? Although I’d convinced myself that I was a survivor, being held captive in such conditions only forced me back into the submissive woman I was with Joshua. I didn’t know how to fight when I knew I would lose.

The heavy door creaked open, casting a sliver of light into the dark room. I flinched at the sudden brightness, squinting to make out the two figures standing before me.

“Well, well. Look who’s awake,” one of them sneered. I recognized the gruff voice of the man who’d grabbed me first.

The other man gave a sinister chuckle. “Sleep well, princess?”

Turning my eyes downward, I didn’t respond. I knew better than to talk back. When they approached me from the doorway, I glanced up at them through my eyelashes, their amused glances at each other numbing my limbs. I was petrified of what they could do to me, but I didn’t know how to prevent it. “Seems your dear Bane hasn’t come to rescue you after all,” the first man said. “Guess you’re not as important to him as you thought.”

My head snapped up at the mention of Bane’s name, a cold dread seeping through me.

The second man laughed, the sound inhumanly cruel. “Oh yes, we know all about your boyfriend. But you don’t need to worry about him anymore.” He paused, his smile growing wider. “Because he’s dead.”

“What?” The word tore from my throat before I could stop it, the need to vomit warring with my need to deny their claim. There was no way I could live in a word he didn’t exist in, not anymore.

“Took care of him ourselves,” the first man said, smug pride twisting his gruff features. “He’s at the bottom of the river by now.”

Even as I shook my head, my heart wrenched open, refusing to believe it was true, but the satisfied gleam in their eyes told me they weren’t lying.

---