“If I hadn’t been in such a fog, I would have realized much sooner that Marcus would never have let it go. He was too furious after I told him. But that’s just it. I didn’t think. I never imagined ...”
Garrett squeezed her lightly and rubbed his hand up and down her arm to offer her the comfort she needed.
“I think I know the rest,” he said softly. “You went to try to stop Marcus. Allen was already dead. I think I know why you bolted instead of going ahead with the plan to go away with your brother.”
She shifted and turned her face upward, which sent her body snuggling even closer to his chest. He caught her, wanting to keep her there as her gaze found his. “If I stayed—if someone saw me or placed me at the crime scene—I’d either be a suspect or I’d be forced to testify against Marcus. No one knows of our relationship. No one would have reason to connect us. It was better if I was as far away from him as possible.”
Garrett was torn. Well and truly torn. If he didn’t hate Lattimer so much, he’d shake his hand for taking care of the scumbag who’d hurt Sarah. Somehow the idea of taking him down didn’t hold quite the appeal it did before. Sarah had been bitterly betrayed by a man she trusted, and now she’d be betrayed again. By a man who’d asked her to trust him, even knowing how much it cost her.
She was quiet for a moment before she laid her head back down against his shoulder and tentatively trailed her hand up his arm until she tucked her fingers around the ball of his other shoulder.
“I owe so much to Marcus. I can’t—won’t be used against him. He should never have done what he did. But he did it for me. Because he loves me. I know he isn’t perfect. I suspect he’s done some not-so-nice things, but thinking and knowing are two different things. No matter what he’s done, I won’t have him imprisoned because of me.”
Garrett had to bite his tongue to keep from telling Sarah just what a bastard Marcus was. She’d already been dealt a shock, on top of a traumatic attack. He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—further destroy her illusions. Not until he had to.
CHAPTER 22
DESPITE her conversation with Garrett, Sarah pulled out her laptop from where she’d hidden it underneath the sofa cushion and carried it into the bedroom so she could check her email while she packed. Or that was her excuse. She hadn’t unpacked. All she had to do was put on her shoes and she was ready to leave. Again. This time not alone. With Garrett.
The relief she felt over that detail was telling. It was staggering even. She was weary to her toes and tired of the fear that seemed to overwhelm her more with each passing day.
There wasn’t a new email from Marcus, so she opened a blank one and typed the longest message she’d sent to date. She allowed some of the emotion she’d kept under wraps to bleed into her words. She was still careful not to state specifics—she couldn’t be absolutely certain her emails weren’t intercepted. But she hoped she allayed Marcus’s fears by telling him she’d agreed to accompany the man he’d sent to protect her.
She looked up when she saw Garrett step to her doorway and knock lightly on the frame.
“We need to make tracks. One thing you should be aware of is that Allen Cross’s family has hired a private recovery firm to find you. His brother is footing the bill and apparently money is no object. It wasn’t hard to find you here, and I expect it would be just as easy for anyone else, given the right motivation.”
The blood drained from her cheeks, and she swayed from her perch on the edge of the bed. She put her hand down on the mattress to steady herself and gripped her laptop with the other.
“You won’t let them take me back,” she said in a low voice. She hadn’t intended it to come out as a question, but it was so hesitantly said, that it conveyed her uncertainty in neon glow.
“Over my dead body.”
Bolstered by the absolute confidence in his voice, she allowed some of the panic to recede. She hadn’t dared tell Marcus all of it—of Stanley’s involvement. Not after he’d killed Allen. There would be no more blood on her brother’s—or her—hands, if she could help it.
She was reaching for her bag when she realized she had no idea where they were going. Garrett intercepted the large bag that held her clothes and tossed it over his shoulder. She stood and stuffed her laptop into its case and glanced around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
There was a slight quirk to the corner of his mouth, almost as if he was amused. “Alaska.”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “Alaska? I’d prefer to stay out of the U.S. I don’t want to risk going back there.”
“There’s nothing more risky than where you are right now. You’ve been found out at the two places you’ve chosen, so it’s my turn. That trust thing we talked about? Now’s the time for you to decide. I’m not going to do anything that puts you at risk, Sarah. Members of my team are already en route. They’re going to secure the location and remain at the ready while we’re there.”
She glanced down at the T-shirt and pair of shorts she wore and grimaced. “Isn’t it cold there?”
Garrett chuckled. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Just the words sent a blast of heat up her spine to her neck and over her cheeks. She couldn’t even meet his gaze, because he’d see the effect he had on her. He was teasing her, but the images of her wrapped in his arms—warm and safe—was such a powerful enticement that she longed to make the fantasy a reality.
He held out his hand to her. “Are you ready? We need to hit the road.”
The simple question was several inquiries all rolled into one. Did she trust him? Would she go with him? Was she agreeing to his protection?
She slid her palm over his and allowed him to twine his fingers with hers. He squeezed once and then leaned forward to brush his lips against her forehead. Then he tugged her toward the door and they walked down the hall. He veered toward the back door and tucked her securely behind him.
“I have the truck pulled up almost to the door. I’m going out and I want you to stick like glue to my back at all times. Don’t stick any body part out that you don’t want to part with. Okay?”
“You think someone’s out there?” she asked anxiously.
He shrugged. “I always assume there is. We can’t afford to take any chances.”
She swallowed and nodded her agreement. He gave a brisk nod in return and then opened the back door. He reached behind him and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his back. He pulled out his gun with the other hand and stepped into the night.
“SO who pissed Van off?” Cole asked as he boarded the seaplane on Kodiak Island with his teammate P.J. Rutherford and team leader Steele. “And why did Dolphin and Baker get the get-out-of-jail-free card on this gig?”
“What are you whining about now, Coletraine?” P.J. asked as she slid in beside him. She tossed her duffel bag onto the floor between her legs and then stretched out in the seat. Not that her legs took up much room.
Steele, ever silent, crawled into the cockpit with the pilot and turned to glance at Cole and P.J. “Everyone set?”
At their nods, he motioned to the pilot they were ready and he revved up the engines in preparation for takeoff. The plane set off over the water, gathering speed as they left a foamy trail in the emerald-green sea.
“Alaska,” Cole grumbled. “It’s fucking cold here even in summer, and it stays light too goddamn long. How are we supposed to sleep?”
P.J. chuckled. “I think the point is that we’re not supposed to sleep.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a damn robot. You’re not human. No one can go as long as you without sleep.”
She shrugged. “If I fall asleep, someone could die.”
Cole shook his head. P.J.... P.J. was something of an enigma. She’d been part of his team for a few years now, and he’d yet to figure her out. He knew next to nothing about her past, only that she’d come from S.W.A.T. and that she was a damn good shot. Better than him—not that he ever admitted that in front of her.
They were competitive, and he liked to give her shit. He didn’t always understand her, but then it had been his experience that all women were creatures from an alternate universe anyway. But she was steady. He could always count on her. The entire team could.
The plane sailed over the water and in the distance, the island was visible.
“What are we looking at here, Steele?” Cole asked. They hadn’t had time for a full briefing. Steele had taken the call from Donovan and pulled him and P.J. They’d left on a minute’s notice, not that it was anything new.
“Garrett is bringing Sarah Daniels here. Our job is to be invisible and make damn sure no one gets on this island,” Steele replied.
“Well, that’s nice, but who is Sarah Daniels?” P.J. piped in.
Steele’s expression didn’t change. “Does it matter? Our job is to keep her safe. Watch Garrett’s back. Do the assignment, just as we do all the others.”
“Don’t you ever get curious?” P.J. grumbled.
Steele raised an eyebrow and turned back around in his seat. Cole shot her an amused look and she scowled and flipped him off.
“Steele, curious?” he mouthed.
P.J. rolled her eyes and said in a low enough voice that Steele wouldn’t hear, “And you said I wasn’t human. He’s a machine.”
The plane dipped and P.J. turned to look out the window as they nosed down toward the water.
“There’s a bald eagle,” she said in an excited voice as she pointed.
Cole ducked his head and leaned forward to look. “I had no idea you were such a wildlife buff.”
“You’re unpatriotic if you don’t get a thrill at seeing a bald eagle,” she said, shoving at his arm. “Aren’t you army guys supposed to be more gung-ho about national symbols?”
He winced and then growled through his teeth, “I was not in the goddamn army and you damn well know it. Navy, P.J. I was a SEAL, for God’s sake. Have some respect.”
“I get you all confused,” she said defensively. “Who the hell can keep up with all the branches of the military you people wimped out of.”
Cole gave her a look of disgust. She was so full of shit. She had a memory like a steel trap. She didn’t forget anything. She could probably name branch, serial number and rank for every single one of the KGI members.
“Yeah, well, what’s your story, Rutherford? You talk shit about us, but all that I know is that you wimped out of S.W.A.T. after being the first female in your unit. Couldn’t take the heat, or what?”
Though he was teasing, pain swamped her brown eyes followed quickly by ice so prevalent it shriveled his nipples. Her lips tightened into a line but he saw the betraying tremble. It was the first time he’d ever seen true emotion from her. She could joke and give hell with the best of the guys, but for the most part, she kept to herself, and when she wasn’t teasing, she kept her mouth shut and followed orders.
He would apologize, but that would only piss her off, so he pretended he hadn’t seen her reaction and dropped the subject. But it intrigued him. The first crack in her give-a-shit attitude. Somehow it made her more human. And it made him want to know more about the mystery that was P.J. Rutherford.
The plane skimmed the surface of the water before slowing and turning into a cove. They coasted to a stop alongside an aged, wooden dock and the pilot hopped out to secure the plane. Cole stepped out and reached back for his bag. He didn’t offer to help P.J. He’d made that mistake before. She carried her own weight and never asked for help. It made her a damn good team member, but it bugged the shit out of Cole. He couldn’t even put his finger on why.
After their bags were on the dock, the pilot gave them a wave and climbed back in. A few minutes later, he took off toward Kodiak Island. Cole stood with Steele and P.J. as they surveyed the immediate area.
“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” Steele said grimly. “I expect Garrett in two days, maybe sooner. We need to be ready. We’ll start with the lodge they’ll be staying in and then we’ll expand our perimeter to encompass as much of the island as we can cover in two days’ time. We’ll set up in a triangle around the lodge. Stay low and out of sight and keep your guard up at all times.”
“Who, exactly, are we expecting to show up?” P.J. asked.
“Don’t know,” Steele said shortly.
Cole frowned. “Do we know anything?”
“Van has a bad feeling. His instincts are usually damn good and I trust them. Garrett took a job to find and protect a woman who witnessed a murder in Boston. A murder committed by Marcus Lattimer.”
“Oh fuck,” Cole muttered. “What the hell was Sam thinking letting G take that gig? One of us would have done it.”
