Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(12)

“She’ll be safer, and you’ll be safer, if everyone thinks you’re gone. At least you don’t have parents.”

She frowned. “What makes you say that?” She watched his face for a reaction, but there was none. She’d told him all about her fake parents, as well as her imaginary brothers and sisters.

“I know everything about you. It helps when I’m bringing someone in.”

She skipped over the whole “bringing someone in” part because she knew if she asked, he’d just tell her the “team” would explain it. “Everything?” she demanded.

He pushed out a breath. “Samantha Elizabeth Hutchinson—God, that’s a long name. Twenty-six. You’ll be twenty-seven on March ninth. You were named after your father Samuel Hutchinson, who died two months before you were born in a car accident.”

“Wow.” How on earth—

“You’re originally from Chicago, but you moved to D.C. when you got a full scholarship to Georgetown. You studied psychology and marketing, and you took a job at a newspaper in sales three months ago. Your mother died while you were in college, and you’re dating Lance Weaver.”

“Fuck me,” she mumbled as she covered her face with her hands.

“Yeah. You took some liberties with your backstory.” He smiled. “Why’d you say your father was a fireman? You could have told the truth on that one.”

Her father had been a decorated police officer. A hero. But she didn’t know him. To her, he wasn’t real, so why not make him anything she came up with?

She snorted and ignored his question, focusing on the one thing he had wrong. “You obviously don’t know everything. Lance broke up with me yesterday.”

“Good,” Garrett said tonelessly. “You’re better off without him.”

Her mouth fell open, and she didn’t know how to respond.

“You think you’re so smart,” she said, poking her finger at him angrily. “You think you know me because you read some file? Well, you thought I was going to run off with you tonight when you asked, and you were wrong about that, Mr. Perfect Lips.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Her lip shook a little, but she bit it to hold it in place. She put her head down again, tasting blood. “How much longer do we have to stay here?” she asked into the table.

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I hear back.”

She nodded against her arm and let her eyes close. The adrenaline crash had left her exhausted, but her mind was still flitting from one insignificant thing to another. Like how she was leaving Anthony short-handed. How she’d left half a sandwich in the refrigerator at her new job. How she’d just filled her car with gas and it was probably leaking all over the street.

She should have been thinking of more important things, like where she would live.

If she lived.





Chapter Eight


It felt like Sam had only been out for a few minutes when Garrett shook her awake. He was gentle about it for someone who was capable of holding a gun to her head.

“It’s time to go.”

She nodded, wanting to get out of the cramped little room. “I’m awake.”

“We’re going to hold hands and walk casually to the car at the end of the alley. We’re not going to run or look around like we’re up to something.” His breath stirred the hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “If I tell you to get down, do it immediately without hesitation. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She nodded to reinforce the word.

“Let’s go.”

He slipped his hand into hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. With the other hand, he put the gun in the front of his jeans. He’d told her not to run or look around, but he was walking awfully fast and looking around quite a lot.

A silver sedan was parked where he’d said it would be. When they reached it, he opened the passenger door for her before walking around the back and sliding into the driver’s side.

“Good job,” he said.

“It was walking. How badly could I mess it up?”

He gave her a look as if to say it was both possible and expected. “We’ll be on the road for a while. You can sleep some if you’d like.”

Not a chance. She was wide awake with her second wind and a new supply of adrenaline. “Is this your car?”

“No.” He frowned.

“What kind of car do you drive normally?”

“I don’t have a car.”

Really? That was weird. Who didn’t own a car these days? “A motorcycle, maybe? You look like the type who has a motorcycle.” Great. Now she was babbling.

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Remember how I told you I don’t deal with questions?”

“Sorry. I’m nervous, and I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“Stop being nervous. Everything is going to be fine.”

“If you say so. You’re not the one who has to start over.” She let her head rest against the glass.

“At least this way you have a life to start over. If you’d stayed, you’d be dead. Which would you prefer?”

“Alive,” she said and shut up. A few minutes later she let out a sigh. “Thank you for saving me.”