Chapter 7

Scarlett

I edge closer, hoping against hope that it’s someone other than Michael in the mine with me.

But as I get closer, I can only hear Michael speaking. Oddly, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds completely normal. Given that he abducted me and brought me here, that’s even more disturbing.

I tilt my head and listen over my increasing heart rate. “They’re just the locals. My father is probably pushing for them to find me—"

I wait for him to speak again but whoever is on the other end of the line is talking a lot. “Who? Chelsea or the sister?”

My head snaps up at the mention of me and all my hairs stand on end as I wait. “That’s what Dexter is for. What? Fuck. Did they arrest him?”

I hold my breath as I listen. “Then it’s just routine and it’ll work in our favor.”

He doesn’t say anything for so long, I have to slowly release a breath before he speaks again. “No. It’s safe. They can’t search without a warrant. And even if they do, they won’t find anything.”

Cold starts to creep down my spine as I begin to understand Michael is not just having a breakdown, but he’s involved in something illegal too.

For all I know his mental state wasn’t great before now, and the way he lashed out at me, makes me more worried about getting out of here and calling for help.

Since Michael is blocking my exit, and I have no idea how far back the mine goes, my options are decreasing by the second.

I squint into the grey and look for something I can use as a weapon, but Michael’s laugh makes me freeze. “She’s kind of a lard ass and she’s mouthy. Had to smack her around to get her to shut up.”

My mouth drops open. Lard ass? Is he referring to me? What the hell?!

Stupidly, my hands slide to my ass and I find myself feeling incredibly sensitive about how my jeans are fitting a little snugger than the last time I remember putting them on.

I frown into the darkness, irritated beyond belief by the nerve of this asshole. Chelsea has shacked up with some losers before, but she’s never got it so wrong as to hook with a homicidal maniac.

I shake off my idiotic thought and return my search for a weapon. Preferably something heavy and capable of inflicting a large amount of pain.

I bend down to pick up what I think is the handle of something and freeze as I hear a hissing sound.

My brain registers a half a second before I feel a sharp pain in my hand.

Without thinking, I shriek just as the object slithers away. Hot burning pain is pulsing through my hand just as I hear footsteps.

A flashlight shines in my eyes, blinding me then the light moves to my hand.

Two puncture marks are already swelling where the snake bit me. I quash a sob as I hear Michael’s crunching boots on the dirt.

I slump against the cool wall of the mine, feeling sick to my stomach as Michael laughs cruelly and shines the light on the snake as it slides away. “There are over twenty-five species of rattlesnake in Colorado. Only two are poisonous. Guess we’ll find out soon enough which one bit you.”

I choke on a sob as he grabs my arm and pulls me towards the exit. Hot pain is searing through my hand stealing the rest of the pain in my body.

All my anger at him is fast being replaced by panic I’m now going to die out here from a snake bite.

I’m trying to think about what I’m supposed to be doing to slow down the venom when I make it stumbling out into the fresh air.

I take a step forward, peering into the darkness as I try to see any people, or roads or anything to let me know I’m not going to die here alone with him.

But I can’t see anything but miles of dirt and a hill that prevents me from seeing what’s over it.

I suck in a breath and lean against the mine wall as Michael pulls out his cell again.

He snarls as he leans in close. “You can try to run but the poison will just spread faster.”

I raise my hand above my heart, and as he laughs at me, and dials a number, I slowly sink to the ground.

I take a shallow breath and try to keep myself as calm as I possibly can.

I may not be able to control much right now. But I can do everything in my power to not make things worse.

To distract myself from the pain throbbing in my hand, I try to work out the statistical probability of the snake being venomous.

But I’m too frazzled to keep the numbers straight in my head, and math has never been my strong suit.

And when I hear Michael on the phone again, despite my attempts, I start to breathe too rapidly. “Call me back when you get this,” he says.

I try to swallow, but my tongue feels too big for my mouth. My limbs are heavy as I try to wipe the sweat off my forehead. In a moment of horror, I catch sight of my hand in the moonlight and choke on a sob as my eyesight starts to blur.

My pulse seems to be increasing and sweat has started to pool at the base of my spine.

Michael’s voice fades in and out, and I’m sure I’m hearing things when I hear a plane landing nearby.

Too late, I realize we must be closer to the airstrip than I first thought.

I try to open my mouth, but nothing comes out but a rasping whimper.

Michael’s face blurs as he leans down and smirks at me in the moonlight. “Guess it was poisonous.”

Strangely, the last thing I think of before I lose consciousness is Dexter.

***

Dexter

I’m sitting in the plane, the fuel gauge checked and replaced all at the PD’s expense when my phone buzzes in my pocket. My heart jumps a notch as I see Michael’s name come on the screen.

I wait a few seconds before I answer. “You’re alive then? Should I call your fiancé?” I say.

Michael doesn’t seem amused when he bites back. “Not yet.”

I keep my voice cool as I reply. “You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

He ignores me and his voice cuts out making me strain to hear him. “I need you back at the Macetown airstrip. I can explain everything.”

I check my watch and the distance to Macetown before I reply. “I can be there in twenty.”

He’s silent for a moment. “What did the police want?”

That makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There is only one way he knows I was talking to the police.

Since the cops don’t think he’s spoken to his father, he’s spoken to Scarlett.

“They’re talking to everyone. I was the last person seen with you.”

The signal starts to fade in and out as the mountain ranges show up on the navigation. “I’m losing you. I’ll land in eighteen minutes.”

With the reception so bad, I miss the start of his sentence and have to ask him to repeat it. “Say again?”

“I said, you might want to get here sooner if you want her to—”

The phone goes dead in my hand making me toss it on the seat beside me in frustration.

Her? He must mean Scarlett. That he’s mentioning her is a little alarming. But given he’s calling me on my cell, he must be supremely confident I’m just as clueless as he thinks I am.

Anger spikes in my mid-section as I check all the instruments. I’ve caught a tailwind which will shave some time off my flight.

And given the anxiety creeping over me that has little to do with the police taping my every move, and everything to do with the possibly Michael is with Scarlett, I know I’m a little more serious about her than I’d usually be after one session.

Even more disturbing is that I’m also thinking about what her dad is going to do when he finds out about all this.

According to Vance, Carl Sanders is something of a legend back in Boston. A heavyweight with an unbeaten record before he retired.

I have no doubt that if I fuck this up, I’ll have more than one person standing in line to take me out.

No matter what happens, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. And now Michael is making noises about Scarlett.

I won’t know if she’s okay until I’m on the ground. And I won’t know if Michael knows about us using Chelsea’s motel room until then either.

I exhale slowly and try to stop the torrent of thoughts pulling my directions in ten different ways.

I need to prioritize. I need to focus. I need to forget about the curvy brunette and pour all my concentration into getting Michael to talk.

I touch down, and barely let the engine turn off before I remove the key and jump out of the plane.

I grab a flashlight, hit the tarmac and immediately see a shadowy figure holding his own flashlight creeping towards me.

I shield my eyes and growl at him. “Put that fucking thing away.”

Michael lowers the light and I have enough light from the cockpit to see the sneer and bruising on his face. “Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

He steps a little closer and it takes everything in my power not to ask about Scarlett. “You aren’t here to ask questions. You’re here to fly me where I should have been eight hours ago.”

His eyes travel to the plane and I catch the slightest amount of concern on his face that makes me hold back any questions.

I keep my voice casual as I scan the area behind him for any signs of Scarlett. “Half expected to find the sister out here with you.”

His laugh is half condescending, half-mocking. “You think that’s why I didn’t get married today? I’m screwing the sister?”

He starts to laugh like the idea is beneath him which makes my blood boil. “You go missing. She’s missing too. It sure looks that way.”

He manages to look interested. “Is that what my father thinks?”

I shrug. “No idea. I haven’t seen him since I flew him and Chelsea yesterday.”

His relief is so obvious I have to wonder if Michael’s old man was more invested in his son’s marriage than the groom was.

I edge a little closer, still trying to look for Scarlett. “So, where is she? The cops are looking for her and her family are worried.”

Michael looks irritated as he gestures to the plane. “Forget about her. I called you to come pick me up. Not ask about the nosy bitch you dropped off at that flea pit motel.”

Every muscle in my body primes. “So, you have seen her?”

He spits a curse and pushes past me in his attempt to get on board the plane. “Forget about her.”

Ice runs down my spine as I try to remain calm but all I can think about is why Scarlett isn’t in her room where she should be at this time of night.

If Michael Burrows doesn’t give a shit about his jilted fiancé or his father, there’s no chance in hell he cares about Scarlett.

I’m probably breaking a rule, but I do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I met him.

I grab him by the shirt front and slam him up against the fuselage. “Listen you little fuck, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where Scarlett is.”

He shrinks against the plane and tries to wriggle out of my grasp. “Get your hands off me. “

I raise my fist and hold my arm back in a punch. “If I have to beat it out of you, I will do it.”

He keeps struggling, cursing as he tries to intimidate me. But I’m past the point of caring. Scarlett has been gone too long and he’s being way too cagey for her to be okay.

I need to find her.

I shake him and make my voice as hard as I can. “Listen to me. We aren’t going anywhere until I see her.”

He seems to pale audibly in the moonlight, but he jerks his head over my shoulder. “I left her outside an old mine. But you’re too late. The venom would have worked its way through her system by now.”

Panic shoots through me as I connect the dots. I drop my fist and grab him, so we’re eyeball to eyeball. “You left her to die? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He doesn’t answer so I shake him. “Did you see the snake that bit her?”

When he gives an almost imperceptible head shake, I nearly punch him. Given the state he’s in, someone has already worked him over. Just another mystery I don’t have time to solve.

I no longer care that the cops are listening to every word I say. I don’t care about losing my place in the Academy. All I care about is about getting to Scarlett before it’s too late.

My heart is slamming against my ribs as I spit the words at him. “You better start praying she lives. Because if she dies, I will fucking kill you.”

***

Scarlett

Through the fog clouding my fevered brain, I’m sure I hear the sound of yelling, pounding footsteps before I’m yanked to my feet, and someone starts to drag me up the hill.

Everything is muted, vision clouded and breathing labored as I struggle to make sense of what is happening.

Flashes of light, sound, and anger penetrate the bubble of pain and drowsiness I’m swimming in.

My eyes still unable to correct the blurring, I focus instead on what I can smell around me. Leather, sweat, the metallic tinge of blood, dust and fuel. Dexter?

His face is lit only by the slightest of starlight covering him, a deep crease on his sweat-covered forehead.

Pain shudders through me, but I’m beyond caring. I have to warn Dexter. I have to tell him Michael is pure evil, but my throat is too swollen to allow me to speak.

I’m powerless, helpless, and as I catch a glimpse of the anger he wears, I’m terrified he’s here for all the wrong reasons.

Is he working with Michael? It makes sense that he is.

My mind is so cloudy, I’m struggling to pull up the pieces together and make a cohesive picture.

I’m vaguely aware of angry voices around me, and Dexter’s presence when I’m placed on soft leather and feel vibrations under me.

I can hear snatches of conversation but can’t make heads nor tails of what is going on.

Nausea is swelling in my stomach and I start to heave.

I’m certain I’m going to lose the contents of my stomach when my throat starts to close over, and I can’t draw breath.

I’m trying to signal Dexter, panic flooding through me as I lose the battle to stay conscious.

I’m gasping for what little air I can find when strong hands lift me upwards and I catch sight of Dexter’s concerned face.

“I’m not going to lose you, Goddammit.”

His hands yank at my jeans, and I’m too exhausted to ask him what he’s doing.

The last words I hear before I slip under again are Dexter cursing someone for hurting me.

***

Dexter

I leave Scarlett unconscious but breathing a little better and take hold of the controls again.

She’ll have no chance of making it a bigger hospital. My only chance is to get her to the closest medical facility I know, and that’s at the base.

I’ve radioed ahead, and with Michael too shit scared of me, and unable to go to Aspen like he planned, he’s back hiding in the mineshaft he left Scarlett in to die.

I’m close to landing before I think to speak directly to Vance and Sanchez. “I hope you two are getting all this. Scarlett’s in bad shape. As soon as I know she’s going to make it, I’ll go back to him.”

I rub at my gritty eyes and check my watch. The shot of adrenaline I gave her probably didn’t buy us any extra time, but it’s all I could think of and all I had in the emergency med bag.

I touch down, and am immediately surrounded by cadets, and a few NCO’s and thankfully a team of paramedics.

Given the time lapsed and Michael’s uncertainty of the snake that bit her, Scarlett is running on borrowed time already.

The medics don’t wait for me to jump out, they open the rear door and have Scarlett on a stretcher before my feet hit the tarmac.

Under the spotlights placed on the airstrip, Scarlett’s face looks even worse. Her lip is swollen, dried blood is caked on her nose, and she’s wearing the evidence of Michael’s fists.

Rage starts to build as the medic shines a light in her eyes, and another wraps a blood pressure cuff on her arm.

I catch a glimpse of the bite mark and wince at the blood, and swelling. The medics start to run her back to base, and I ignore everyone asking me questions as I jog alongside the stretcher.

The doors crash open, and I trail after the team as the head medic eyes me. “You don’t know what bit her?”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t there. But the guy who was thinks it might have been a rattlesnake.”

The medic nods slowly as I hang back keeping out of their way. “When was she bitten?”

I check my watch and try to stay calm as I watch them start to strip off her shirt. “As far as I know almost thirty minutes ago.”

The medic’s face tightens, and I know why. There’s no time to use the venom detection kit to check which snake bit her.

He looks at the nurse and says, “Polyvalent. We’ll start with a low dose and see how she responds.”

“I gave her a shot of adrenaline nine and a half minutes ago.”

He nods. “Good. Now get out of here and let us work, cadet.”

The nurse gestures to the hallway, so I take a last look at Scarlett and reluctantly step back out into the corridor.

Unsurprisingly, detectives Vance and Sanchez are waiting for me along with my Squadron Leader, who’s looking at me like I’m a bug about to be stepped on.

Vance eyes me as I walk closer to their little group. “You need to get back to Macetown.”

My eyes slide to the left and the SL, gives me a subtle nod. “You have permission, cadet.”

Since I wasn’t asking for permission, I look at Vance and Sanchez instead. “I want to stay until I know she’s okay.”

Sanchez’s forehead creases into lines while Vance just exhales slowly. “Out of the question. You got her here. There’s nothing more you can do for her.”

I glance back at the door to the ER and feel an uncontrollable urge to go back inside.

When Sanchez takes a step closer, she sends me a warning look. “He won’t wait around for you for much longer.”

I check the door, and when I see no sign of anyone coming to tell me she’s going to make it, I feel like I’m damn near splitting in two.

Vance makes the decision easy when he near growls at me. “You really want to chance him leaving and getting away with what he’s done to her? And if she pulls through, you want her to be the one testifying against one of the most powerful families in Boston?”

My gut twists into knots and I shake my head. I don’t want that on her. She’s done nothing wrong. And she doesn’t deserve to get dragged into this. If she has to provide evidence, the time we spent in the motel when we were supposed to be looking for Michael, will make her look bad.

I’m an asshole. But not that bigger one.

I release a sigh and shake my head. “Fine. But I want to know everything that’s happening here.”

Sanchez nods. “We’ll stay in contact as best as we can.”

The SL folds his arms across his chest. “We’ll speak when you get back, cadet.”

My gut clenches. But I have no time to think about what will happen from here on in.

With a final look at the ER, I turn around and start to jog back the way I came.