“I can’t leave you here by yourself,” she argued.
“Yes, you can. We don’t have time to dispute this. Please just do what I say.”
“Garrett—” she begged, but somehow, he got even colder.
“Don’t. You can’t risk your life over this stupid fling with me. It means nothing. It’s not real. Now, go. You put me in even more danger if I have to worry about where you are and what’s happening to you.”
Hurt slashed through her entire being at his harsh, unfeeling words.
She jumped back and blindly started to run—more to get away from his awful declaration than the potential killers.
She should have known.
Hell, she did know. He’d warned her all along what this was.
Casual. Meaningless. Temporary.
If only her heart had listened.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Stupid fling?” she muttered as she flashed through the trees. “It isn’t real?”
In her anger and betrayal, she arrived at the shelter quicker than before, and almost ran right past it. She moved the rock hiding the panel, and keyed in the code. The door opened and she went down the steps after closing it behind her.
The tiny solar light by the door came on automatically, but the rest of the small space was dark and cold.
Just like Garrett’s heart.
She found herself wedged between the two immense gun cabinets, shaking. The shock was intense. More intense than she’d ever experienced before, even when she’d witnessed a murder.
Twenty minutes ago she had been cuddling on the sofa with the man she loved. Now she was crouched in a cold shelter, wondering if she would come out in ten days to find him dead.
That fear far outweighed the pain of learning the truth of his feelings about their relationship. But her brain was stuck on that part. Possibly to protect her from the deadly reality of the situation outside.
She had known all along that their time together was only temporary. There’d never been any delusions about that. She was just a job to him. Eventually, when and if she made it to the trial, he would stop babysitting her and go on to other assignments. Possibly protecting other women.
But that didn’t mean what they had together wasn’t real for however long it lasted. It was real. At least, to her it was.
Stupid fling? Not worth risking her life over? He risked his life for her constantly.
Her breath caught in her throat, but she refused to cry.
She didn’t deserve to console herself with tears. She had let this happen. She had let him get close enough to hurt her. Badly.
It wasn’t real? Bullshit.
If something happened to him, she’d never know if he’d truly meant that, or if it was just a tactic to get her out of there.
Time stretched.
Minutes? Hours? She didn’t know.
Still she sat there. The fear for his safety became all-consuming. Her mind provided gruesome images, which only intensified her panic.
She saw Garrett lying in a growing pool of blood, similar to the one she’d seen that night in the alley. She saw him shot in the head, blood spraying across the side of the house, like the man she’d shot the last time.
Suddenly, all the men she’d shot came back to life in her imagination. Only, instead of faceless men, they were all Garrett, and she was shooting him over and over again, breathing out and pulling the trigger again and again.
Only the annoying hum from the fluorescent light above kept her grounded to that place and time. She focused her entire being on that hum, so she wouldn’t keep waiting for the sounds of gunfire.
Through her fog of terror, she heard the sound of the bunker door opening, followed by the hatch. She was frozen with fear and anger, and a chaotic tangle of emotions. Unable to move or utter a sound, she sat there trembling violently as Garrett walked into the bunker room, looked around quickly, and left without seeing her crouched on the floor between the cabinets.
His feet pounded on the stairs and he called her name.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat was too dry. She couldn’t move. The only thing she was able to control was her quick, shallow breathing.
She was losing it, and she didn’t even care.
She just wanted to be lost.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Garrett couldn’t find Sam anywhere. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she hadn’t listened and stayed in the shelter. If she’d gone back to the house to help him and fallen, she could be lying anywhere out in those woods, knocked unconscious.
What if she had fallen on the gun and it went off?
Sam was too smart to go running through the woods with a gun in her hand, but people didn’t always think straight when they were terrified.
Like he was now.
He needed to think so he could find her. If she’d taken a gun and gone back to the cabin, there would be a gun missing from its place on the wall.
He went back inside the bunker and rushed down the steps. The dim light was on, but it hardly helped. He pulled his flashlight to examine the row of guns. She preferred a 30-06 rifle, so he moved down to the end where they were kept. When his flashlight beam touched her legs, he jumped…and let out a gush of relief.
“There you are. Why didn’t you say anything?” When she didn’t answer, or even react, his panic returned. “Sam? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. He cursed himself for asking two questions. Which one was she answering?
He took her shaking hands in his. They were like ice. It wasn’t cold enough in the room for her to be so chilled. This was something else. Something bad.
In the service, he’d seen hard men go into shock. When a person’s mind got to the breaking point, it sometimes simply shut down. And their body would try to do the same.
“Sam?” He gave her a little shake. She shook her head again, though he hadn’t asked a question. “There’s no one here,” he told her. “You’re safe. It must have been a deer or some other large animal that set off the alarm,” he explained, hoping it would help. “You’re okay. We’re both fine.”
But were they fine?
He’d said some horrible things in an effort to get her to move. Was that why she was like this?
“Come on. Let’s go back to the cabin,” he urged.
He helped her up, happy she was able to stand under her own power…because she refused his arm, or even a hand. The walk back was painfully slow. Twice he tried to help her, but she quickly pulled away.
It was encouraging to see her getting steadier as the cabin came into view. It was dark by the time he opened the door to let her in.
She marched right to her room, went in, and locked the door behind her. Not really a surprise. She wanted to be alone. He’d said some cruel things. Things he didn’t mean. But how was she to know that?
He would give her an hour or two to rest, and then they would talk.
Things would go back to normal.
They had to.
Chapter Fifty
Sam wanted to curl up into a ball and stay there forever. Alone in her room. She might as well get used to it. Because she was—truly alone.
It was time to stop playing house with the hired gun, and face facts.
Garrett didn’t feel the same way she felt about their relationship. This was just a fling for him. It was nothing. It wasn’t real.
His hurtful words echoed in her head, intertwined with gory memories of men falling and bleeding, until she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.
When she woke the next morning, Garrett was asleep in the chair next to her. He must have broken the lock on the door. Was there nowhere she could go to get away from him? She slammed the door when she went into the bathroom to get ready. When she came out, he was gone.
She pulled out the book he’d gotten her for Christmas and started reading. If she was planning to sulk in her room, she needed something to do. A few minutes later, there was a kno
ck at the door.
“Go away.” She knew that wouldn’t work.
“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked through the door.
“No.”
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Can I come in?”
“No.” As if she had a say in the matter.
“I’m coming in.”
She glowered up at the ceiling while she fumed.
“Okay, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re pissed at me.”
She said nothing.
“Come on, Sam. Can we be adults about this? Please?”
She looked at him for the first time. A look that said, I’m listening.
“I have a job to do. I’m trying to do it.” He took a breath and regrouped. “You remember when I held the gun to your head to get you to run?”
She glared at him.
“Of course, you remember that.” He shook his head quickly. “The point is, it evoked an immediate response. What I said to get you to leave last night was the same thing. I wouldn’t have shot you that night any more than I meant what I said last night to get you to go. I needed you to leave and follow the plan, so you would be safe.”
It made sense—she’d already told herself that could be the explanation—but she wasn’t ready for sense. Even if it was true, it still didn’t mean he felt the same way about her as she did for him. And it sure as hell didn’t change the fact that this was temporary.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying our time together, but you have to understand, right now that is secondary. Until the trial, your safety has to be my top priority. I’m fighting to keep you alive, and if I have to hurt your feelings to do it, so be it.” He sure didn’t sound very apologetic.
She nodded and glanced at the door, wanting him to leave. Which, after a moment when she didn’t say anything in response, he did.
She didn’t come out for dinner. She needed to distance herself so she could be objective, like he was.
She understood what he was saying, and it wasn’t that she was really angry at him. It was more about being faced with a big wake up call. She’d thought she could keep things casual, but it was clear she couldn’t.
She loved him.
She’d thought she would be able to turn it off when the time came. It was apparent now, she’d lost the ability to do that.
It was going to hurt terribly when he left to go back to his real life.
Hell, it already hurt. Because real life had just smacked her upside the face.
She went to bed early. Being hurt and angry wore her out. She didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned like the night before, and had dreams that Garrett needed her help but she was trapped in the shelter and couldn’t come. When she woke in the middle of the night, he was sitting on the edge of her bed.
His shadow in the light from the bathroom nearly scared her to death.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Checking on you.” he whispered. “Sorry if I woke you.”
He hadn’t. The nightmare had woken her.
“I’m fine,” she said when her heart seemed okay with staying in her chest. He made no move to get up. He looked awful. She sat up and caught a whiff of bourbon. “Are you drunk?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Are you all right?”
“I know what’s happening here.” His low voice melted into the darkness.
“What’s that?”
“You care about me, and yesterday you were faced with the possibility I would be killed. Now you’re trying to put distance between us.” He paused and ran his hand over his hair. “I know because I’m doing the same thing. If I fail, you could die. Not only would I miss you, but I’d have to live knowing it was my fault.”
For the first time since the alarm went off, she understood her deeper feelings. The ones below all the hurt and rejection. Her real feelings.
He was right. She was doing the same thing to him. The safe thing.
He met her gaze. “If we both push each other away, we’re going to waste the time we could have had together. I don’t want that.” He reached for her, but pulled his hand back again. “When you sleep with me, I don’t have to worry about getting to you quickly enough. You’re right there. And…I like to listen to you breathing,” he said quietly. “I count your breaths until I fall asleep, and I sleep so much better.”
She didn’t say anything. He just sat there.
“But that’s not the real reason I want to sleep with you,” he whispered. He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t have to. His eyes said it all.
“Come here,” she said, reaching for him, her heart melting completely.
He didn’t hesitate. He slid into bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I don’t want to hurt you, but everything I do is wrong.”
“Shh. Let’s just go to sleep. Everything will be fine in the morning.”
He let out a deep breath and snuggled closer, putting his face against her neck. She played with his hair as she drifted off to sleep.
So much for putting distance between them.
Her anger wasn’t with him. It was with this whole situation. A situation caused by Congressman Howe. She thought back to that night when he’d so callously ended Heather Riddell’s life. Sam hadn’t realized he’d ended her life that night, as well.
She wished things had been different. If she’d met Garrett at some bar, and she wasn’t running for her life. They would have exchanged phone numbers, and—
And get real.
That was just a fairy tale fantasy. She had to face the cold, hard facts of reality. Happy endings simply weren’t in the cards for her.
So, she would take what she could get.
Things were back to normal the next morning. Or as normal as they had been, which was not very normal.
Garrett wrapped his arms around her waist as she made their breakfast. His phone rang, startling them both.
He studied the screen and winced. “I need to take this.” He took the phone and walked out of the house.
She watched as he paced the driveway making gestures with his hands, his breath making tiny clouds in the cold morning air. He looked upset or angry. She wondered what was going on. Something about the trial?
She finished her breakfast before it got cold, and eventually he came back inside and sat down to eat.
“Everything okay?” she asked cautiously. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.
“Yeah. Fine,” he answered with a shrug. “My boss.”
She’d kind of forgotten he had a boss. “Would you be in trouble if your boss found out about us?”
He stared down at his plate for a moment. “If he found out about us, he’d most likely shoot me dead.”
She was pretty sure he was joking…except, he didn’t laugh. He picked up a piece of bacon and finished eating, looking deadly serious.
She didn’t know what to make of that.
When the dishes were done, they went out to do some target shooting, but soon they were panting and pulling at each other’s clothes. They made it back to the warmth of the house and ended up on the sofa.
“I don’t know what it is, but watching you shoot a gun turns me on,” he told her as he tugged off his shirt and pressed his body against hers.
The cold bits of flesh touching the warm parts made the experience more enticing.
“I’ll have to remember that.” She began to laugh, but gasped when he showed her exactly how much he was turned on.
When they had hit all the necessary targets, they got dressed and made dinner.
Garrett’s phone rang again afterward. “Sorry.”
“Your boss again?”
With a pained expression, he picked it up and went outside, taking his coat with him.
Now she was really worried.
What the hell was going on?
Chapter Fifty-One
Garrett argued with Thorne for a long time. In the end, he lost. As if there’d ever been a doubt about who would prevail. Reality was a big, heavy freight train heading straight for him, and Garrett was tied to the tracks.
Sam had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for him to come back inside. She stirred when he picked her up and carried her to his bed, but didn’t wake. Neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” he whispered as he brushed his hand over her hair and kissed her forehead.
He’d wanted her for so long. Longer than she realized. He’d thought once they’d been together, once he’d gotten her out of his system, things could go back to normal. He should have known she wasn’t the type of woman he could get out of his system.
“I don’t have a choice,” he told her, hoping someday she might be able to forgive him.
He sat next to her on the bed, trying to come up with a way to get himself out of this mess. He’d never been in this kind of situation before. He’d always taken his job seriously. Not once had he ever fooled around with someone he was extracting or protecting. Most of the time the subjects didn’t even know he was protecting them. He always kept his distance, until it was time for extraction. Even then, contact was minimal.
But in Sam’s case, things were…extremely complicated to begin with.
What he felt for her just complicated things even more. Especially after he’d received his newest orders.
This would not end well for him.
He just prayed Sam would be okay.
Chapter Fifty-Two
In the morning, Sam woke alone. The other side the bed was still made, which could only mean Garrett hadn’t slept in the bed with her.
The silence in the house unnerved her as she sat up. No water was running in the bathroom. No coffee perking in the kitchen. No sounds at all.
She slid out of bed and pulled on her sweatshirt to go search for him.
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