Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(27)

“I’ve seen how badly things can go wrong. How your life can be spun around in a split second. I like to have plenty of backup plans.”

She gazed at him, seeing him—really seeing him—possibly for the first time. “So, your mind doesn’t ever stop, either.”

He gave her a humorless smile. “No.”

“And you’ve gotten used to that?” If he’d figured out how to cope, maybe she could, too.

“You never get used to it.” His words sent a shiver through her as she got out of the Jeep.

When she met him at the back door to help carry in their stuff, he had a manila envelope tucked under his arm. She hadn’t seen it before.

He answered her unspoken question. “I stopped for a couple of minutes on the way. You were out cold, and I didn’t want to wake you again.”

She said nothing. It was none of her business.

He put the key in the lock and held his palm to a digital panel on the wall beside the door. After a blue light moved up and down his hand and beeped, the lock clicked, and he opened the door.

The house smelled like stale air and pine. It felt colder inside than outside.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll start up the generator,” he announced, and disappeared down a dark hallway to the left.

She put the ice cream in the freezer, which was actually cold, thanks to the temperature in the house, then started unloading the rest of the groceries. A few minutes later, the refrigerator started to hum. The microwave beeped and blinked twelve o’clock. The vent in the floor started to blow warm air.

She smiled and finished unpacking the groceries, leaving her clothing and shampoo in the bags.

Garrett came into the kitchen. “So, what do you think of the place?”

“I think I wish I had been chased by a psychopath sooner,” she joked. Yeah, in poor taste, but he grinned. “It’s beautiful.” She gazed over at the two-story stone fireplace and cozy furniture. “It makes the last safe house seem extremely…not this.”

He seemed pleased. “Before you get comfortable, I need to show you a few things.”

“Okay.”

He held up a finger. “Guns. There’s one in this drawer.” He pointed to the island and opened it to reveal a small black handgun.

She stepped back. She didn’t do guns.

“Another one in the coat closet by the front door.” He opened it, showing her a shotgun resting in the corner. “Another in my bedroom in the nightstand next to my bed. Last one in the bathroom linen closet. I’ll move it lower so you can reach it.”

Alarm trickled through her. “Why would I need to reach it?”

“You need to be able to defend yourself.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about—”

“You will very shortly. Follow me.”





Chapter Eighteen


To Garrett’s surprise, Sam followed without protest. She was right behind him as he opened the glass doors that led out to the deck.

The deck had a flight of stairs going down to the ground. She turned to them, but he shook his head and went the opposite way. Using the stairs probably made more sense, but he was going to show her how to survive.

This was serious business, and he intended to be tough on her. Enough to get the point across.

“This way,” he said and walked to the far end of the deck. At the railing, the deck met up with the steep hill behind the house. “If something happens and I tell you to run, this is where you need to go. Remember that. It’s very important.” He looked her right in the eye so she understood the seriousness of the situation.

For a second, he got caught in the green warmth of her gaze. Her eyes were the color of springtime, with shots of amber coming from the center.

She nodded. “Important. Got it.” She looked back at him expectantly.

He fought to remember what he was saying.

Damn.

Right. Escape route.

He deftly swung a leg over the railing and leaped to the bank below. She followed his movements exactly and, thankfully, didn’t sprain her ankle. He took it as a good sign.

He climbed up the bank using some strategically placed rocks as stairs. At the top, the ground flattened out slightly onto an abandoned rail bed. They walked easily for a few hundred yards, then he pointed to a tree on the left of the trail with a mark on it—a roughly drawn arrow pointing straight up.

“Do you see this? At this arrow, you want to go left into the woods,” he told her.

“Ah. That makes sense.” The smile on her face vanished, immediately replaced by a wince. “Sorry. No smartass comments. I remember.”

Obviously, she was trying to follow his orders. He smiled and guessed being a smartass was out of her control.

“This is where it gets a little tricky. Pay close attention. It could be a matter of life and death.”

People used that expression so much it had become a cliché, but in this case, it was very true.

“If I’m taken down, your best hope is to run. You need to know where to go, and it has to be so second nature you can do it in the dark, in the rain, or while completely panicked.”

Again she nodded, and scanned the area to orient herself. He hoped she had a decent sense of direction.

There was no trail, just briars and pine needles, bushes, and downed limbs. He moved in a straight line to the next landmark.