I Thee Take (To Have And To Hold Duet #2) - Natasha Knight Page 0,58

it’s clear.

I turn to my brother who moves into position on the opposite side of the door. “Ready?” I mouth.

He nods.

Without another moment’s hesitation, I kick the door in, the wood splintering as it crashes against the far wall.

A woman screams and men curse, the tv still going in the background as a table is knocked over and weapons are drawn, the men clearly surprised.

I know in that moment Scarlett isn’t here. Maybe she was at one point, but she’s gone.

I know it as a gun battle breaks out. So much for no gunfire. I know it as the tv is shot out, as the woman dives to the kitchen floor, as the men take bullets that knock them back and down.

I know it when all the sound that’s left in the place is that of our breathing, of the TV short-circuiting, of the woman whimpering on the kitchen floor.

“We’ll need to move fast,” Antonio says as I make my way down the hallway to check the rooms. I find them empty although there were people here at some point. Handcuffs hang from the headboards of the beds and the stench of fear clings to the walls.

“Upstairs,” Dante says.

I turn back to find him holding the woman who is pointing up. I move, weapon ready, hurrying up the narrow, winding stairs to the attic room. Its door is left open, the bed empty, no handcuffs on this one. Just a bucket, a camera with its red light still blinking and one of Scarlett’s shoes. Those ballet flats.

“She was here,” I say, tucking my gun away and picking up the shoe. It’s so small. She’s so small. And on her own. No match for the men of our world.

Antonio and Dante walk in behind me as I push a few buttons on the camera to play back the recording. I see her then. Scarlett carried in. Unconscious. Dumped unceremoniously on the bed. Handcuffed to it. My uncle giving the orders from the sideline obvious even though there is no sound.

Dante stands beside me as we watch Scarlett wake. As I see her take in the surroundings. As I see her decide she’ll fight even if it’s impossible.

And when she gives the camera the finger, I give a half-hearted, bitter smile. “That’s my girl.”

“She’s tough,” Dante says, and I realize I said that out loud.

I push the button to forward through the footage until I get to Felix Pérez walking into the room. I watch them have a conversation. I watch her spit in his face. I watch him slap hers so hard he almost knocks her out. When she opens her eyes, she’s dazed. She rights herself and I see the cut on her cheekbone, see blood stain her face.

That’s the breaking point for me.

I close my hand over the screen, my throat tight, jaw tense, everything inside me wanting to break. To kill. To demolish.

I take the camera and smash it against the far wall the way I will smash both my uncle and Felix Pérez.

34

Scarlett

We drive out of the city, mostly taking backroads to wherever we’re going. The three of us in the backseat are quiet while Felix alternates between taking calls and singing along with the radio, like we’re on some bazaar family road trip. It must be at least two hours later that we reach our destination, a hulking house in the middle of nowhere, guarded heavily at the gates and beyond.

There must be two dozen cars parked out front and that many more soldiers loitering around the vehicles.

“This is the end of the line, ladies,” Felix says as the car pulls to a stop around back.

The girl, no, not the girl. I know her name. Her real name. Mara looks both curiously and fearfully up at the house.

Felix focuses his attention on me. “That’s turned ugly. Don’t make me hit you again.”

The doors open and we’re escorted out. Mara isn’t handcuffed and she walks a few steps behind the woman, a soldier at her heels.

My soldier takes me by the arm and keeps shoving me toward the back door which is opened before we get to the stairs that lead up to it.

“This way,” someone says, ushering us inside. “Two?” she asks Felix when she sees us. “I was expecting one.”

“Change of plans. I’m sure you can accommodate us.”

“Of course.”

“Put them together. That one is a sly one,” he tells her, pointing to me. “Keep your best guards on her.” He turns to the woman who