Page 45 of Saving Scarlett

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Page 45 of Saving Scarlett

The cigarette butt still glowed orange, a pinprick of light in the gloom, but I snuffed it under my heel and moved on. With no camera watching my movements, I slid into the building, disappearing into the pitch-black corridor.

Moving through the distillery like a ghost, I used the darkness as cover. The place was a maze of corridors and rooms filled with rusted machinery that stood like silent sentinels in the darkness, but I navigated it with ease, having memorized the layout before I’d gotten out of my car. I followed the mental map in my head, checking each corner before proceeding.

A scuffling sound up ahead met my ears and I froze, sinking into a doorway. Standing as still as a statue, I watched as a rat emerged from beneath a stack of crates, dragging its belly across the floor. It paused, beady eyes glinting in the half-light, and for a moment I thought it saw me before it skittered away down the hall. I exhaled, my fingers flexing on the hilt of my knife, the tension coiling tighter in my gut with each step. The compound seemed to stretch on forever, each turn leading to another grimy corridor filled with the stench of dust and mildew.

Edging forward, I slowed as voices met my ears from a larger chamber dimly lit by a single bulb swaying from the ceiling. The generator had kicked on, giving them light, but not much. The shadows welcomed me as an old friend as I circled the edge of the room. In the center, a card table had been set up, where three armed men played a game of poker, smoking and drinking from a bottle of whiskey. There was no sign of Scarlett, but I knew she couldn’t have been far, not with her guards hanging out as though they had not a care in the world. The men were so engrossed in their game, chuckling and throwing insults at each other, that they were completely oblivious to the danger approaching.

One thug, bald and built like a linebacker, threw his cards down, rising from the table. My heart plummeted into my stomach as I waited for him to surge at me, but he turned back toward the hallway instead, yelling over his shoulder, “Forget this. I’ll go check on the girl.”

The urge to follow him nagged at me, but I forced myself to stay the course. Rushing in would only lead to mistakes, so I couldn’t go after him until I got rid of his backup. Instead of following, I crouched behind a crate in the darkness, watching as he disappeared deeper into the building.

Once he was out of sight, I struck. My knife flashed, slicing through the first man’s throat, blood spurting across the table. As his body crumpled, I grabbed the second man’s head and twisted. His neck broke with a resounding crack, and he dropped to the ground like the garbage he was. I was pretty sure Victor wouldn’t have been happy that his men were drinking and playing around on the job, but that wasn’t my problem. He could deal with them when he met them in hell.

When the room fell silent, I wiped my knife on one of the men’s shirts and trailed after baldy. He led me right to a locked room down one of the many empty corridors.

“Hey, sweetheart, you okay in there?” he called out with a chuckle. My blood boiled at his mocking tone, but I stayed focused, watching from just around the corner.

As he fished for his keys, I snuck up behind him, wrapping my arm around his neck and sliding my knife straight into the side of his throat, hitting his larynx and then yanking the knife toward his spinal cord. He struggled but went limp when the fatal strike hit his carotid artery and jugular vein. Straining under his weight, I lowered his body to the ground at my feet and then held my breath as I listened to make sure no one else was nearby.

With my heart sending blood crashing through my veins as the blood I’d drawn spilled onto the floor, I bent over and picked up baldy’s keys. Sure no one else was coming, I slid them into the lock with trembling hands, pushing the heavy door open until I could peek inside.

In the center of the dark room, illuminated by the scant moonlight that came in through the dusty window, was my Little Red tied to a chair.

Scarlett.

Chapter 39

The Survivor

Through the labyrinth of my dreams, a voice made it into my consciousness, startling me awake. I wasn’t sure what they’d said, but when I opened my eyes, there was no one there. My limbs trembled in the cold, dark air. The rope around my wrists made it impossible to warm myself.

Holding my breath, I listened for more voices, but before another came, a key clicked in the lock and the door creaked open.

Like an oasis in the desert, a large form in a black hoodie stepped into the room, the silhouette unmistakable.

“Ba… Bane?” Even in my delirious state, I knew not to use his real name, not where others could hear. I shifted on the chair, yanking on my binds.

“Scarlett.” His voice was only a breath, but the moment it met my ears, a sob burst from my lips. The magnitude of emotion was too much for my body to hold back.

Taking one more look around the hallway, he stepped into the room, hurrying to my side. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” With blood still dripping from his knife, he sliced through the rope around my hands. I inhaled his scent as he leaned in close to me, tears trailing down my cheeks. “I didn’t think—“

“Save your strength.” The moment my hands were free, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled to his body. “We need to get out of here.”

I nodded, submitting to his kiss when he pressed his lips to mine. The touch was much too brief, but I knew we needed to move.

“Stay close to me.”

With my hand in his, we left my prison behind, my heart pounding as we pushed through the dim, dank hallways of the compound. The eerie silence played on my nerves, revving up my paranoia, but Bane moved with lethal grace, his muscles tense and poised for action.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his warm breath on my ear sending shivers down my spine. Pressing another kiss to my lips, he placed his knife in my hand before pulling his gun out of its holster. “I love you, Little Red. I will always come for you.”

His words sent my heart into a cartwheel, but I had no time to process the emotion before he started moving forward again.

Numerous doors lined either side of us as we walked on silent feet down the concrete halls, but it wasn’t until we turned the corner that distant footsteps and murmured conversations echoed through the building.

A door opened ahead, and Bane quickly pulled me behind a stack of crates, pressing my back against the cold wall. We held our breaths, waiting for the intruder to pass. The moment they did, Bane slipped out from behind him, pulling another knife from his pocket and stabbing the guard in the neck.




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