The guards exchanged uneasy looks. No one dared to question, no one dared to confirm.
Moonlight streamed through the bars of the dark chamber where they dumped her. Scarlett slumped against the wall, her body shaking, her shoulder aflame. The blood loss made her vision swim. She thought, maybe this was it. Maybe she could let go.
But then memory cut through—the steady warmth of Ryan’s breath against her ear years ago, his voice patient as he corrected her aim.
“Lower your shoulder. Don’t clench so hard.” His breath had skimmed her ear then, steady and familiar, the kind of calm that had rooted her in the storm. “Follow the three-point line. Slow your breathing… now.”
Bang!
She remembered the kick of the recoil, how he had smiled then, faint and approving. She had been safe in his arms. Now he had put a bullet through her. The jab of pain pulled her from the brink. She couldn’t die like this. Not before she tried to save herself.