Chapter 19

January 19th

10:28 A.M.

If she kept this up,she was going to have no fingernails left intact.

Scarlett had always been a nailbiter when she was nervous. As a kid, she used to get in so much trouble from her grandparents and her parents when they came home from deployments for doing it, but she couldn't seem to break the habit.

The more they yelled, the more pressure they put on her, and the more they threatened the worse it got.

They didn"t seem to understand it was her instinctual reaction to stress. If they wanted her to stop doing it all they had to do was remove the stress they kept heaping on her shoulders.

It wasn't until she aged out of the foster system and struck out on her own that she finally was able to break the habit. That was when she realized she hadn"t been biting her nails and gnawing on her cuticles because her parents put so much pressure on her, it was because she was so desperate to be loved that she had internalized everyone else's lack of care and blamed herself.

Because she wasn't good enough her parents didn"t want to raise her.

Because she wasn't good enough her grandparents hadn"t loved her.

Because she wasn't good enough, no one wanted to adopt her, and no foster family wanted to keep her.

Because she wasn't even good enough for her twin brother to stay.

That was the moment she knew she had to stop looking to others for their validation. She had to be good enough for herself.

For years, she thought she had learned that lesson, but now, looking back at all the failed relationships and two engagements that had never gone through to marriage, Scarlett knew all she had been doing was lying to herself.

Still, she was trying so hard to get someone to love her.

Doubt was her constant friend. Worry that she might say or do something to make one of her teammates or someone from her Prey family turn on her was constant. She tried so hard to find love, but she kept looking in all the wrong places, that's why she failed. You couldn't force real love it just … was.

Maybe it was just time to accept that she was never going to be loved. Not the way she wanted to be. That sense of belonging that remained constantly out of reach was never going to happen for her.

She had to be enough for herself.

If she didn"t learn that lesson, she was going to wind up losing herself.

There was no way she could keep going through the pain of convincing herself she was in love with a man, that they were the answer to all her prayers, that she was going to have forever with them.

It had to stop.

Now.

No more.

So, she huddled in her cell, wondering if this was going to be what the rest of her life looked like, trying to figure out how she could be enough for herself, and chewing on her nails because right now, there was too much stress piled on her shoulders to make herself stop.

When footsteps outside her cell caught her attention, she straightened.

She'd already been given breakfast, and although there was no clock, there was no way it could be lunchtime already.

Scarlett was even more surprised when instead of a meal being pushed through the slot, the door was unlocked and opened. A guard stood there, his expression unreadable, and she warred between hope that she was finally being let out, and fear that it was time. Time to be booked and processed, time to be sent off to join the rest of the prisoners.

Or worse, time to be shipped off to some hidden prison that housed traitors and terrorists.

"Let's go, Ms. Madden," the guard said.

There were no handcuffs in his hands, and she faltered slightly as she got to her feet, unsure what that meant. Too many hours of sitting curled up in the corner of the uncomfortable bed had left her muscles stiff, and she swayed a little as she walked uncertainly across her cell.

When the guard merely turned and started walking, Scarlett followed.

They walked back the way they'd come when she was brought in, stopping in a small interview room. It was empty, and when the guard left her in there she stayed where she was, frozen in the middle of the room, no idea what was going on.

It was that unknown that had her fear ramping up.

What was going to happen to her?

Was her life about to get better or a whole lot worse?

She was still standing right where she was when the door opened again. Only this time, it wasn't a guard or a cop who walked through it. It was the lawyer Prey kept on retainer. She'd only met him once, but she'd liked Walter Gunnerman. He was an older man in his early fifties, quiet, calm, professional, and a steady presence.

Now he was here, and her hope soared.

Did this mean what she hoped it did?

"Walter?" she asked, taking an uncertain step toward him.

His smile was warm and reassuring. "You ready to get out of here?"

Relief literally stole her strength and she dropped to her knees as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I … I"m … free?" she asked through her tears.

When he knelt before her on the dirty linoleum floor, no concern for his expensive suit, Walter's smile was so gentle that her weeping intensified. It had been so many hours that she had been without a soft smile, and the wounds of Tate's betrayal were so raw that, without thinking she reached out, wrapped her arms around the lawyer's neck, and held onto him as she sobbed.

Walter didn"t stop her, he just held her until she cried herself out, then helped her stand and held out a bag to her. "Why don't you change and I'll take you home."

Home.

Not to Prey.

She wasn't sure what that meant.

This was a Prey lawyer, so it had to mean they'd been working this whole time to get her out. But why wasn't he taking her straight there so she could find out what evidence they had that had proven her innocence?

Deciding she'd wait until she was dressed and they were out of there before she started peppering Walter with questions, she nodded and took the bag, opening it as he left the room to give her privacy. As badly as she wanted answers, she wanted out of there more. There was only so long she could take being trapped in a small cell, memories of being locked up in Raul's dungeon mingling with the horrors that could be awaiting her in prison, and she had well and truly reached that limit.

It didn't take her long to change into the jeans and sweater that someone must have packed for Walter to bring with him. The clothes were hers, as were the sneakers she shoved her feet into, and the coat she shrugged on.

It warmed her a little to know that her friends hadn"t given up on her. They'd packed her clothes, and she bet anything that Lucy, Ella, and Cassie were waiting for her at her house.

Just because she might not ever wind up with a husband and kids of her own didn"t mean she had no family. By the time she was dressed and opening the door, she was sorry she'd ever doubted her Prey family.

Of course, they wouldn't give up on her.

"You ready to get out of here?" Walter asked.

"More than," she replied.

Half worried this was all some dream or some sort of trick and expecting the worst, Scarlett was surprised when nobody stopped them as they walked through the precinct and out the back door into a quiet parking lot.

The fresh air felt so good against her cheeks, and she dragged in a huge breath.

Free.

She was free.

If she was out, that meant the real mole had been identified and she was in the clear. While she didn"t have to worry about being arrested again, she did still have to worry about Raul Castillo. The man would remain a threat until he was apprehended.

Anxious to help in whatever ways she could to make sure that happened, Scarlett turned just as Walter jammed something into her neck.

Just like that, the terror beginning to ebb roared back to life.

"What did you …?" her question trailed off as the world began to spin around her and she lost control of her body, slumping forward into Walter's arms.

"I"m sorry, Scarlett. I didn"t want it to end like this, I truly didn"t."

The words were cold comfort as unconsciousness swirled around her, and she knew that the next time she opened her eyes she would once again be a prisoner. This time of Raul Castillo.

January 19th

10:37 A.M.

"Dean Webster got his brother out,"Gumby announced, looking up from his laptop.

"Got him out how?" Tate asked, rubbing at tired eyes. He hadn"t gotten any sleep last night. The only time he'd tried to lie down and get a little rest, dreams of Scarlett weeping and asking him why he'd betrayed her had haunted him. He'd functioned on less sleep than this during an op, but he knew he wasn't running at the top of his game.

That could get Scarlett killed.

So, he was grateful that he had all of Prey, his team, and Rocco's team all at his back.

Together they would sort this mess out and keep his girl safe.

"Sold his house and paid the gang to let his brother go," Gumby replied. "He just put in his resignation to Prey, said he wanted to move away, and make sure there was no fallout for either of them. Not like gangs are known for sticking to their word and being honorable."

"Why would he sell his house to pay off the debt if he knew he had a huge payout coming from selling a drug to a weapons dealer?" Bubba asked.

"He wouldn't," Tate answered. "If Dean Webster sold his house and paid off his brother's debts, and they're moving, then he's out as a suspect. I mean, we can keep an eye on him, but there's no reason to sell the house unless it was the only way he could get the money."

"Unless he just sold it in the last couple of days, after Scarlett was rescued," Ace suggested.

"House has been listed for the last three months," Gumby told them. "So, he had this plan in motion for a while now."

"Definitely out," Rocco agreed.

"That still leaves us Amy Jenkins as a suspect," Tate said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Which was next to impossible.

It had been over twenty-four hours since he'd allowed Scarlett to be arrested, and he was aching to take her in his arms and soothe the pain he himself had inflicted.

Soothe every pain she'd ever suffered.

Punish every person who had ever hurt her.

Unfortunately, her grandparents and brother were all deceased, but he had half a mind to track down her parents and give them a piece of his mind. They had started the ball rolling when they decided that their twins weren"t ever going to be a priority in their lives. Giving them up and having them put in foster care rather than giving up their careers had them right near the top of the worst parents ever list as far as he was concerned.

"Uh, I think we might be able to clear Amy as a suspect, too," Phantom announced.

"What? Why?" he asked. Of their two remaining suspects, his money had been on the IT specialist. She had the skills to track down a weapons dealer on the dark web, she had the skills to plant the emails, and she was desperately in need of the money.

If they had cleared both their suspects, and they believed Warren when he said he hadn"t been involved, then where did they look next?

"Her GoFundMe hit its goal and then some, which means she's going to have all the money she needs to pay off her husband's medical bills, and those for her son, and still have plenty left over so that she won"t need to work while she takes time to care for her dying child. Money was the only motive we had for her. We were going on the assumption that she wouldn't hit her fundraising goals and therefore would get nothing, but she did," Phantom said.

"But she couldn't have known that she would. She still could have done it," Tate argued.

"Maybe, but to be honest, I"m not sure how she'd have the time," Ace said. "I"ve got kids, they keep you on your toes, there's barely time to blink. Not only is Amy grieving, but she's a single mom to two kids, one of whom is in and out of the hospital. She's also got to work, get her daughter to and from school, and her son to and from appointments. I just don't think she had the time or energy to set something like this up. Desperate people do desperate things sure. But this woman seems completely focused on taking care of her kids. Plus, she has a great support system. I don't think it was her."

"Then who was it?" Tate demanded, shoving away from the table and dragging his fingers through his hair, enjoying the sting as it tugged on his scalp.

Good.

He should hurt.

Should hurt as badly as Scarlett had when she realized he was going to allow her to be arrested.

It was killing him that he couldn't go to her, plead with her to understand why he'd made that choice, and beg her to forgive him.

When Rocco's phone buzzed with a message all attention focused on the man. From his expression as he read it, whatever the news was it wasn't good.

"What happened?" Tate asked. Good news or bad he was desperate for something. The more intel they had, the more they learned, and the more they learned the closer they got to ending this once and for all.

For a moment, when Rocco's brown eyes lifted to meet his, Tate was sure that the other man wasn't going to answer.

To hell with that.

He'd fight for the intel if he had to. Scarlett was his, and he was going to get her name cleared, and the weapons dealer off her back so she could finally be free to live out her dreams.

Dreams they shared.

Dreams she'd made him realize he had even if he refused to allow himself to acknowledge them.

"Easy, man," Phantom murmured, and Tate realized he'd curled his fingers into fists and started stalking toward Rocco.

"Not going to keep it from you," Rocco assured him. "Eagle just wants me to be sure you can handle this before I tell you."

Then it was bad.

If Eagle was worried about what he was going to do, it had to be even worse than he was thinking, and there were already a dozen worse-case scenarios forming in his head.

"I can handle it," he vowed. He had to. Simple as that. Because if he couldn't it would be Scarlett who would pay the price.

Rocco studied him, expression inscrutable, but then he nodded. "Scarlett was just released from jail."

"Huh?" How could that be? Much as he had hated it, they'd decided against allowing anyone outside the small circle of people he was sure were trustworthy to learn that Warren Barone had claimed innocence. It meant leaving Scarlett in prison until they had a name of who had set both her and Warren up, but in the end, he was the one who had set this in motion by allowing her to be arrested and they had to play through the hand he had dealt.

"How did she get out?" Rex asked.

"Eagle had a pretty tight rein on things," Bubba added.

"Who got her out?" Phantom asked.

"Walter Gunnerman," Rocco told them.

Sifting through all the names of Prey employees he'd learned over the last couple of weeks, Tate placed the name as being one of the lawyers Prey kept on retainer.

From what he knew, the Reactivator was almost complete, and Athena Team had contacted the lawyer to discuss filing for a patent.

"No way, man, he's loyal to Eagle and Prey," Ace said.

"We rescued Walter's daughter several years back after he got himself into some trouble. It was a joint mission with Prey's Charlie Team. A loan shark sold off all his client's debts to a human trafficker looking to make a quick buck by clearing the debts in flesh. Walter's then thirteen-year-old daughter was taken along with a bunch of other girls and women. We were able to recover all but one of the girls, and the trafficker and most of his key men were killed. Walter was so grateful he vowed to stop gambling. It's been over a decade, and he's been clean ever since. Family first. Job second. There's no way he would betray Eagle after everything the man did for him and his family."

But that wasn't quite true.

There was always a limit.

Everybody had one.

And when you reached that limit there was nothing you wouldn't do.

Walter Gunnerman might have reformed and gone on the straight and narrow, but he knew about the drug, and he obviously knew that Warren had been suspected of being the mole because he had to have used something to get a judge to sign off on getting Scarlett out.

There was only one thing Tate could think of that would cause the lawyer to turn on a man who had helped him when he was at the lowest point of his life.

"If Walter relapsed, got himself in debt again and panicked, needed an out, he might have thought selling the drug was an easy option," Tate said. "And if Raul Castillo threatened his daughter, his family, then I"m guessing there isn't anything the man wouldn't do to keep them safe. We have to bring him in, get him to talk."

"We can"t," Rocco said, stopping him in his tracks when he had already started heading for the door.

Dread pooled in his stomach. "Why not?"

"Because Walter and Scarlett have disappeared," Rocco replied gently. "Eagle got wind of what was going on just as it was happening, but he was too slow getting someone to the jail. Walter and Scarlett were already out the door. He reviewed the security footage, hoping to get a lead on their direction, since Walter wasn't answering his phone."

"And?" he prompted when Rocco didn"t continue.

"And the footage shows Walter drugging Scarlett and shoving her into the trunk of his car," Rocco finished.

Scarlett had been kidnapped.

Again.

Because of him.

He was the one to put her in a position where she was alone and vulnerable, not surrounded by the people who would have her back. He'd thought he was keeping her safe, away from the mole at Prey, instead, he'd left her open to an attack.

What happened to her now was all on him.

The images of Scarlett's bruised and battered body assaulted his mind, along with what she'd told him Raul had done to her.

There was no way he was ever going to forgive himself for this.