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Scarlett
Two weeks.
It’s been two weeks since I blew my chance to get away from Anton. Two weeks since I learned about his dark secrets and surrendered myself to him. Two weeks of feeling like a trapped bird with clipped wings in a gilded cage.
I haven’t tried to escape since; there’s no point. Anton would find me, and God only knows what his next idea of punishment might be. I don’t allow myself to think I might enjoy it. It’s just smarter not to make waves. Besides, he’s paying me generously and I need the money. Victor Cartwright’s men are still out there, waiting for their chance to take my life. All I need is one small mistake and it’s all over. At least within these cold, stone walls, I have some semblance of safety. And, eventually when I’ve saved enough, some hope of a fresh start.
I wake up suddenly, my heart pounding in my chest as nausea rises in my throat yet again. The room is spinning around me, and for a moment I’m disoriented, unsure of what woke me.
My phone is ringing insistently on my bedside table. Without thinking, I fumble for it, peering blearily at the screen.
7 a.m. Who would be calling me at 7 a.m.?
Fuck, what if it’s Cartwright?
What if he found out where I’m hiding and he’s coming after me?
Unless…
Unless my fatcat buyer has found a way to contact me.
Maybe I can finally ditch the piece of rock hiding in my purse and dash off to Mexico.
I don’t give myself the chance to ponder over it more. I brush the anxiety swirling in my gut aside and press “answer” before I can change my mind.
“Hello?” My voice sounds groggy.
“Scarlett,” a deep, menacing voice says on the other end of the line. My heart jolts and I’m instantly alert, sitting up in my bed. “Ahh, did I wake you?” The voice chuckles darkly, and I feel a shiver run down my spine.
“Who is this?” I demand, trying to sound strong and in control. But my hands tremble as I grip the phone tightly, dread curling inside me like a snake.
“That’s not important. What matters is that I’ve found you,” the voice says. I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Found me?” I look around the room in a panic as if someone is about to peel out of the shadows.
Get a grip!
He’s trying to mess with your head.
“It’s only a matter of time,” he says, confirming my suspicions that this call is designed purely to intimidate me. To flush me out of hiding. Still, the fact that he found my number…
“What the fuck do you want?” I snarl.
“What do you think I want, Scarlett Jones?” The voice is silken. “Scarlett Jones who took something that didn’t belong to her…and conveniently left a tidy little bundle of incriminating evidence at the crime scene.”
My throat tightens with terror but I force myself to keep breathing.
“Cartwright?” I snap, though it seems unlikely that the man would do his own dirty work. “The way I remember it, the crime wasn’t one I committed.”
There’s silence for a moment and I half-expect him to hang up.
“I’m coming for you, Scarlett.” There’s another dark chuckle that has my blood running cold. Even though I’m telling myself this is just a scare tactic, I can’t fight down the rising panic.
They’re closing in on me!
Sweet Jesus!
I don’t get a chance to reply. He ends the call abruptly, leaving my mind racing. Whether it was Cartwright or one of his thugs, the fact remains: they’re closing in on me. I can’t afford to ignore this.
