Page 30 of Saving Scarlett
With no other objections, I hit play, hoping the contents of the video wouldn’t upset her more.
When the recording started, it was in the middle of the five o’clock local news broadcast, the male and female anchors sitting at their horseshoe-shaped desk as they dished out the top news of the day.
About five minutes into their scripted lines, the screen went all black, a message saying “Incoming breaking news” scrolling across the bottom of the screen like the warning of an approaching storm.
A few moments later, the solid black screen gave way to a nondescript room. The silhouette of a man sat in a chair in front of the camera, his entire face and body in deep shadows. I knew it was Phantom, but there would have been no way anyone else would be able to figure out who it was from what they could see.
Using software to change his voice, he started to speak. “Dear people of New Orleans, I have breaking news on the case of Scarlett Prejean, the missing wife of businessman and financier, Joshua Prejean. First, I have a recording I must play for you. This will not be suitable for children.”
The moment Phantom stopped speaking, the recording began to play, the voices making Scarlett gasp.
Pausing the video, I turned to her. “Do you want me to turn it off? It’s okay if you don’t want to watch it.”
She shook her head, but with her hands still covering her mouth, I wasn’t convinced. “Is that the—“
“Is it the recording of when I met with Joshua? Yes.”
“Won’t people recognize your voice?”
I shook my head, pulling her closer. “No. Phantom used a software to change my voice, but Joshua’s voice is crystal clear.”
Once she nodded and melted against my side again, I pressed play to continue the video, knowing the worst was yet to come.
Scarlett and I watched the dark screen in silence as my recorded conversation with her husband played. With her remaining curled against my side, she did not cry as she listened to the heinous things Joshua wanted done to her. Her strength blew me away. In a way, she reminded me of my sister—in her strength—not in how badly I wanted to fuck her.
For a moment, I wondered if I would let the two of them meet one day, but I shoved the thought away quickly. I never let anyone get that close. I wasn’t ruling out letting Scarlett in, but I just wasn’t ready yet. Although I’d all but let her think I would let her be the one to decide if I was good enough for her, I didn’t think I was ready for that yet either. However, since I seemed to be incapable of turning away from her as though she had cast some sort of spell on me, I guessed I was the one who didn’t have a choice. If I were being honest, I didn’t want to fight it anymore, but that didn’t mean I was willing to sleep with her—at least not without my clothes on. She may have thought she was ready for us to have sex, but I knew better. The last thing I wanted was to destroy her, and I was still convinced that was what I would do. We’d already moved too far too quickly.
When the recording of my meeting with Joshua went silent, the focus fell back to Phantom’s silhouette, still much too shaded to make out his features.
“If you listened to the recording I just played,” he said, his voice still obscured by voice changing software. “Then you now understand that every claim Joshua Prejean has made was a lie. Well… everything except the claim that his bank accounts have been frozen. That is true, but they haven’t been frozen for the reason he thinks they have. I will talk about that in a moment.”
He shifted on his chair, the dark shading following his movements. “First, I wanted to assure Scarlett’s family and friends she is very much alive, and she is safe. Let’s just say that the hired assassin was a better man than her abusive husband ever was.”
As the shadow of Phantom was replaced by a white screen, I couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. Scarlett may have agreed, but I had many victims who would have begged to differ.
Although we could no longer see Phantom on the screen, he once again began to speak, but this time, his words began scrolling up the screen like the credits of a movie.
“Joshua Prejean’s accounts have been frozen, but not because his wife has stolen from him. It could be argued that much of his money is hers, and she will get her fair share, but Joshua Prejean’s accounts have been hacked into and frozen because most of his money has been acquired by unethical and illegal means. I will leave you with a list of all the businesses and individuals he has screwed out of money, as well as all the entities who are in his pocket, or the other way around. The city of New Orleans and its citizens can decide what to do with the information.”
The credits played for much longer than expected, since Phantom had found a laundry list of names that needed to go on it, but as the credits came to a halt, I turned to Scarlett, studying her face for any signs of distress. But instead, she just looked relieved. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the crying she had done earlier that night, and probably a bit from our time in her bed. “Thank you for everything.”
I gave her a small smile, pulling her closer. “You don’t have to thank me. I did what I had to do to keep you safe and find you justice.”
Nodding, she rested her head on my shoulder. “I know. But I’m grateful, nonetheless.”
We sat there for a few moments, before I cleared my throat, dread tightening my windpipe as I thought about what I still needed to do. “Listen, Scarlett, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to add to that. But there’s something I still have to tell you.”
She looked up at me, her big brown eyes searching mine, the worry in them clear, and once again that night, it made me feel like shit. “What is it?”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to gather my thoughts, hating I was about to hurt her again. “It’s about your father.”
Chapter 28
The Survivor
Sitting on the sofa with Bane, the air hung heavy around us, my breath lodged in my throat as I readied myself for his next words. But before he could say them, the sound of boards creaking echoed through the silent night. Bane’s eyes flicked to the side, his body language tightening. The doorknob jiggled once … twice … and then he reached for my arm, pulling me into the bedroom.
Seconds passed as we scrambled to shove essential items into packs and pull on heavy boots and coats. There was no time to speak, or even to think, as sounds of someone trying to break into the cottage drove my heartbeat to the speed of a racehorse. He strapped weapons onto his belt and grabbed his laptop just before he slid open a hidden panel in the back of his closet and pushed me inside, closing it behind us.