47. Scarlet
Chapter 47
Scarlet
Oliver’s waiting for me the second I open the door. There are clear, defined lines creasing his forehead as he stands ramrod straight. I guess I’m not the only one freaking out.
“I’m pregnant.” A calmness settles over me as I say the words. Every worry I’d been tumbling over is eclipsed by how right it feels.
Oliver stiffens, his shoulders pulling back as he looks at me and pulls out his phone.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this coldness.
“Wait, I want to tell Matthias myself,” I say as I watch him type something.
He hits a few more buttons and nods. “It’s better that he doesn’t know.”
His words don’t settle well, like they’re a glove that doesn’t fit. He’s watching me now, but the warmth I’d expected, even for him, is completely missing. He’s cold, calm, calculated in how he approaches me, clearing the few feet between us.
He tsks. “I had a plan to get you out of here, but this makes it messy.”
Nothing he’s saying makes sense. “I already told you I don’t want to go. I’m happy staying with Matthias.”
He smiles, but it’s flat. “Of course. I knew you wouldn’t come with me after what you did at the farmhouse. All I had to do was get you to him, but you kept messing it up.”
Alarms go off in my head, and I take a step backward. “What are you talking about? Get me to who?”
“Where do you think you’re going?” The glint of steel is my only warning before he points the muzzle of his gun directly at my chest.
“This isn’t funny.” I freeze, staring at the man who’s been with me for years.
“You’re right. The boss is going to be pissed.” Oliver clicks the safety off. “Mr. O’Connor will just have to understand. I can’t let you live, carrying that bastard’s heir.”
A tremble travels down my spine, but I don’t have time to panic. I push the fear and betrayal into the recesses of my gut to process later. All that matters right now is that our baby and I make it out of here alive. I need to act and pray I don’t make the wrong choice.
“Who are you talking about? Who is Mr. O’Connor… I thought…” My voice cracks. “I thought we were friends.”
Oliver’s laugh is cruel. “You are so naive, Scarlet. You never once questioned where I came from. Even Matthias, with all his skills, couldn’t dig anything up on me except what I wanted him to see. I have hated you from the moment we met. I’ve been biding my time for years, waiting for my boss to give me the go-ahead to ruin you. Haven’t you wondered why so many things have been happening to you lately?”
“Of course I have, but you were supposed to protect me.” My fists clench at my sides, and I force air through my lungs. I can freak out later.
“You really should be careful who you trust.” He lifts the gun higher between us. “I’m sorry to cut this short. I don’t want to be here when your asshole husband shows up.”
I have one chance to get out of here, but if he calls my bluff, I’m screwed.
“Matthias!” I scream out my husband’s name as if he’s standing directly behind Oliver. My guard falls for my trick, momentarily taking his eyes off me. It’s all the time I need to slam my palm into his chest while simultaneously kicking his foot out from under him. He crashes to the floor, air whooshing out, and his gun clatters a few feet away, giving me just enough time to make a break for the door. I only take three steps before fingers wrap around my ankle and yank me hard. I catch myself on the coffee table, struggling for breath as I desperately try to kick him off me. Those familiar eyes I’ve trusted for the last seven years stare back at me as he tries to pull me under him.
Shit. I grab onto the only thing I can and lift the heavy ceramic lamp. Oliver’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open, catching his attention for the split second it takes me to slam it down on his face. The ceramic disintegrates upon impact. Gripping a sharp shard, I move so my knee is on his chest and scream as I drive it into his neck.
Tears well in my eyes as blood pools over my hand.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I cry at him, even after he stops moving.
I scramble off his stiff body, using my hands behind me as I crawl away. I need to calm down so I can figure out what the hell is happening.
What are the facts?
Fact: Oliver tried to kill me.
Fact: I killed him instead.
My heart starts to calm as I remind myself that he didn’t succeed. That it’s him lying in his pool of blood, not us. I replay the situation, trying to pick it apart. He made it sound like he’d changed his plan from taking me somewhere to killing me when I told him I’m pregnant. Take me where? This goes way beyond just wanting a position in the Order of Saints. They must know when I married Matthias there was no claiming the Laurent seat, no matter what happened.
I think through the last fifteen minutes, step by step, from the second I left the bathroom. What had he been doing when I told him I was pregnant? I thought he’d been texting Matthias, but… I have to get out of here.
I force myself up, my legs unsteady beneath me, catching my weight on the wall. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me going. I need to find somewhere to hide. I have to trust that Matthias will come find me. I can’t believe I’m actually grateful for this freaking tracker.
I crack the door open, peeking through the narrow gap to check out the hall. So far, I still have time to get out of here. The elevator opens just as the room locks shut behind me and out steps the same man who’d ridden in the elevator with us earlier.
A sneer curls his mouth. “Looks like you’ve caused a bit of trouble.”
I don’t bother glancing down, knowing he’s referring to the blood now soaking through my clothes.
“Don’t come near me.” I realize my mistake immediately. How could I have left the gun? I’d been so thrown off by killing Oliver that I forgot something so basic, so fundamental.
The stranger holds the elevator open. “Now, come with me, and you won’t have to get hurt.”
My muscles charge with electricity, and my brain screams at me that if I want to survive, I need to run.
I throw the bloody shard at him and don’t wait to see if it hits its mark. All that matters is I get out of here and away from him long enough for Matthias to find me. Because he will. I just need to stay alive.
I crash through the exit door and take the stairs three at a time, using the handrail as my last Hail Mary to stop me from plummeting face-first. Footsteps thunder behind me, chasing me down. Acid burns in my quads, begging me to slow my pace, but I push through. I can’t give up now. Being caught is a death sentence.
If I can just get downstairs where there are people… I round the bottom set of stairs and slam through the exit door. A cry breaks from my throat when I exit onto the rear street instead of the road. All I can do is keep going. I fight back tears, desperate to get to safety.
A car door opens in front of me, and I skid to a stop. My feet burn from the rough ground.
A man steps out, a sneer across his lips. “Well, isn’t this convenient? I thought we’d have to hunt you down, but here you are.”
“Leave me alone?—”
A large hand clamps down around my mouth before I can say anything else and pins my arms to my sides, preventing me from reaching for my knife. I kick out, slamming my heel against my attacker’s shin, wishing I still wore my shoes. Their spike would’ve taken a chunk out of them.
The man in front of me says, “Now, now. Don’t go hurting yourself. Boss won’t be happy.”
He steps to the side, opening the rear door. “Bringing you in catches a pretty penny. So just be a good girl and get in the car.”
I can’t go in there. Every true crime documentary says it’ll be worse at the second location. They aren’t moving you for the fun of it. The alley is eerily quiet.
Clearly, I’m on my own to figure this out. I struggle against the hold, slamming my head back, wishing I was tall enough to connect my skull with his face.
The man in front of me tsks. “It’s unfortunate you’re going to be like that. We’ll have to do it the hard way.”
I’m lifted off my feet, arms crushing the wind out of me, then shoved into the trunk of their car.
The second my back connects with steel, I kick out, trying to stop it from closing, but it’s too late. The lid clicks into place.
I feel like I’m choking, acid crawling up my throat as everything that’s happening slams into me. I’m not getting out of here.
The car pulls out, and my entire body vibrates and bounces off the hard walls that only have a thin felt separating me from the sharp metal. My bruised skin is the least of my problems right now.
I shift from side to side with each turn they make, desperately trying to track where we’re going. It’s useless. Within two turns, I’m completely lost. The only thing I know is from the stops and starts, we’re staying in the city.
I can’t believe I’m in this freaking mess. I’m smarter than this.
Inhaling deeply, I try to pry open the taillight, but they’ve blocked it off with a steel plate. All there’s left to do is wait and hope they don’t bring me to some abandoned hangar or something like that.
My only opportunity to get out of here is to surprise them when they open the trunk.
I count my breaths in my head, trying to keep them steady. I need to be in control of my body if I’m going to make it out of here.
The car slows to a stop, and I have to plant my feet to the side of the trunk to stop me from rolling with it.
Silence surrounds me until the clack of their car doors opening and shutting sends nerves through my gut. I get into position, pulling my knees as close to my chest as the tight space will allow.
Here we go.