Page 6 of Saving Scarlett

Once I got close to the bed, however, my breath seized in my lungs, my body going stiff. His wife was the same woman I’d seen in the bookstore that morning, the stunning woman who’d chatted with me about books and had offered me a complimentary cup of coffee before I left. We’d only spoken for a few minutes, but I knew from that brief conversation that she was not the evil bitch he’d made her out to be. Usually I didn’t care about those things, but by looking at her face, I got a better idea of why the garage was in the state it was in.

Rage burned inside of me, my hands squeezing into fists as it bubbled just below the surface. She wasn’t asleep. She was unconscious, her beautiful face battered and bruised. Her eye was swollen shut and her lip was split. There were still glass shards in her arms and legs. He had beat her and left her like that, and he would fucking pay for it. She didn’t deserve to die, and for some reason, that mattered to me.

I don’t know why I did what I did next. Maybe it was because I’d spent hours with my sister and my niece before breaking into his house, or maybe it was some turn of fate forcing me to do the right thing, but instead of slicing her throat and finishing the job, I slid my hands beneath her body and pulled her into my arms. Her eyes never even opened as I carried her down the stairs and back outside, sticking to the shadows as I moved down the empty street, before setting her down gently on the backseat of my car.

Shifting my car into drive, I took her away from that house of horrors, my mission abandoned. All that mattered was getting her somewhere I could properly care for her wounds—and keep her hidden until I knew her husband wouldn’t be able to have her killed by someone else. No one was going to lay a hand on her again…not if I had anything to say about it.

With my eyes on the unconscious form on the backseat of my car through the rearview mirror, I made my way through the darkened streets of New Orleans, heading toward my apartment. My mind raced, thoughts colliding as I tried to make sense of it all, but I had no hesitations. Just hours before, I’d been prepared to end the woman in the backseat’s life. It was a job, nothing more. But seeing her battered and broken in that bed had shaken something loose inside me. My usual detached efficiency was gone, replaced by white-hot fury, and the primal need to protect.

She didn’t stir as I carried her from the car to my bedroom, locked away in oblivion’s refuge. Part of me was glad for that small mercy. It would spare her the pain, at least for the moment. Though her injuries turned my gut, I couldn’t let it distract me. Even unconscious, she looked so small and vulnerable. It brought a familiar ache to my chest, reminding me of my niece in a way.

Once she was in my bed, I set to work tending her injuries, keeping my touch light. Bruises marred her pale skin, some older, some fresh and angry. My jaw clenched at the sight, but I tried to control my anger. As soon as I got hold of her husband, who I suspected was the person who had beaten her, I knew he would beg for death long before I granted it.

For the moment, I could only clean and dress her wounds with what supplies I had on hand. She needed a hospital, but that wasn’t possible. Not until I understood why someone had wanted her dead—and who had nearly finished the job for me.

When the lines of pain eased from her beautiful face, she looked almost peaceful. I lingered at her bedside as she slept, a silent sentinel watching over her. Resolve hardened within me, absolute and unyielding. No matter what came next, I intended to keep her safe.

Chapter 5

The Survivor

Pain. Earth shattering pain consumed me when I awoke in a dark room, my head aching and cloudy. My left eye was swollen shut, affecting my vision, but I knew I was no longer in my home. It was the only thing I knew for sure.

“Hello?”

Nothing more than a croaked whisper escaped my lips when I tried to speak, but it had been enough to be heard outside the room. A moment later, the door creaked open and a large male silhouette moved into the open doorway—a silhouette I didn’t recognize.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

Without a single word, he entered the room, my body instinctively pushing back on the bed as he approached me. As I watched his shadow as he got close enough for me to smell the scent of his shampoo, the lamp beside the bed flicked on. When the light brought his face into view, I was filled with more confusion than fear. After what I’d been through, I figured any man was safer than being with my husband, as crazy as that sounded. But the man in front of me was not who I would have expected to see.

Relief washed over me as memories came trickling back. I recalled strong arms lifting me, the rumble of an engine, the hypnotic streetlights flashing by as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Bane had saved me. He had brought me to his home, tended my wounds, but I didn’t know why—or even how he knew where to find me.

“Bane? What’s going on?”

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, the man from the bookstore held a glass of water toward me. I took it, my thirst overpowering my worry that he’d try to drug me. If he wanted to hurt me, he’d already had the perfect chance when I was unconscious.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I’ll explain everything, but you need rest right now. You probably have a concussion.” He nudged the blanket aside with his hand, revealing the gauzy white bandages beneath. “There’s no more glass in your skin and I’ve bandaged the worst of your wounds, but I imagine you’ll be sore for a while.”

It was then that I realized I was only wearing a bra and underwear. I pulled the blanket higher, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re going to have to tell me more than that. Why am I with you? I don’t even know you.”

He huffed a chuckle, the sound sending a chill down my spine. “I think you may know me better than you know your own husband.”

The words caused me to flinch just as much as the nonchalance in his tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Not answering right away, he grabbed a pill bottle off the side table and shook out a tablet, holding it out to me. When I didn’t take it, he shrugged and set it aside. “You’re with me because your husband paid me to kill you and I decided not to.” He shrugged again, but the gesture looked forced, like there was a lot more he wasn’t saying. If I was being honest, I wasn’t sure I was ready to know. “From the way it looked to me, your husband was going to finish the job before anyone else ever got the chance.”

Icy dread numbed my body from the chest down, my mind unable to process his claim, even though I knew everything he’d just said was the truth. Every day I spent with Joshua was like walking a tightrope. It was a realization I’d learned to live with. “Are you saying you went into my home to kill me, but you decided to…” I hesitated, the question bringing a bitter taste into my mouth. “You decided to do what—abduct me?”

Jaw clenching, Bane went quiet for several moments. As I waited for him to respond, my heart beat like a war drum against my ribcage, my airway tightening under the pressure.

Just when I thought I might climb out of my skin, he shook his head. “I didn’t abduct you, Scarlett. I saved you, but I hadn’t gone to your home to kill you. At least not yet.”

Hearing that he had intended to kill me but then decided to save me only confused me more. My eyes darted around the room, searching for my clothes. I may have been in pain and my head was groggy, but I knew I needed to get away from him and my husband. I just needed to get…away. “Not yet? What would have convinced you to do it? Had I not been beaten? Is that why you came into my store? Were you stalking me?”

Before I had even finished my tirade, his head was already shaking, an exasperated look on his face. It took all the fight out of me and I slumped against the pillow, waiting for his response.

“Meeting you in the bookstore had been a complete coincidence. I left the store quickly because I had to meet with your husband nearby. That was what brought me to the area in the first place. I had no idea that you were my next target when we’d spoken–”

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