Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(45)

“Yes, but—”

“There are way too many buts with you, Sam.”

This had gone on long enough. Being nice to her was going to get her killed. He hadn’t been firm enough with her. He’d made a huge mistake. Several huge mistakes. He’d allowed her to get under his skin.

He remembered the way she’d looked at him and asked him not to ruin their moment. He hadn’t felt guilt then—still didn’t—but he did feel angry.

Angry at himself because he’d let his emotions get in the way of his job.

“Why are you allowed to take care of me, but I’m not allowed to take care of you?” she asked defiantly.

“Because it’s my fucking job, Sam! Not yours!” Yelling made the sparkly stars appear in his vision again.

“My job is to sell papers and serve people pizza, but I can’t do that anymore because I’m dead!” she screamed back at him. And then, to his horror, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Dammit! He’d known she was hanging on by a thread, and he’d gone and cut it.

He pulled her to him and hugged her with his good arm. He couldn’t be cruel to this woman, even if it was for her own good.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just—” He pressed his lips together and decided to go for honesty. Maybe if she knew how much he cared, she would start to care more about her own safety. “If anything had happened to you…”

He shook his head, unable to think about that in detail. To his surprise, he was no longer concerned about the reaming out he would inevitably get from his boss. If she’d been injured, or worse, had died, the loss would have crushed Garrett completely.

“They can’t fire you if it was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t follow your orders, so you can’t be held accountable.”

She still didn’t understand.

His anger flashed anew. “Do you think I give a damn about being fired?” He was yelling again, so he took a breath and reined it in. He took a mental step backward and nodded toward the store. “Pull back around front to the pumps. Take some money out of my wallet, put your hat on, and go inside to buy some orange juice. Pay cash for the gas, too. Keep your head down. Don’t look at any cameras.”

“Okay.” She stopped after a few steps. “You’ll be here when I get back, right? You’re not going to ditch me, are you?”

His heart squeezed. “No, I’m not going to ditch you.”

It was a silly question. He’d never leave her. Although, truthfully, he was all over the map emotionally. Hell, maybe he did have a concussion.

One thing was for sure, if he didn’t get this cut to stop bleeding, he wasn’t going to be much use to her. He pulled the towel tighter and went back to the Jeep to fill up…and to make a phone call.





Chapter Thirty-Three


Sam wondered if Garrett was faking. Would he drive off and leave her as soon as she went in the store?

No. She was just being paranoid. She needed to trust him. But trust was not something she had much of anymore.

Unfortunately, she had even fewer choices.

She walked into the store and only then noticed the blood on her jacket and her hands. Too late. She turned her head away from the teenage boy at the counter who was chuckling and texting on his phone.

Slipping into the bathroom, she took off her jacket and tied it around her waist. With her hands clean and her hair looking a bit more normal, she went back into the store.

Two men stood at the counter as she went to the cooler to get the orange juice. Their distorted reflections in the mirror above her head provided a better look. Jeans, leather coats, crew cuts. They looked awfully similar to the guys at the house. Shit.

She crept silently to another aisle and picked up a candy bar.

When the two men left, she went to the counter and paid for her purchases and a tank of gas, keeping her head down and not making eye contact with the boy.

“Have a nice night,” he said.

She mumbled something back, and practically ran out of the store with her hand on the gun in the back of her pants. The men drove away in a silver sedan, without a glance in her direction.

She half expected to be standing in an empty parking lot with a pint of orange juice and seventeen dollars and twenty-three cents to her name. But Garrett was still there, sitting in the passenger side of the Jeep waiting for her. She returned the gas nozzle to the pump and put the gas cap back on, then got in behind the wheel.

He reached for the juice as she put the change in the drink holder between the seats. “Any trouble?” he asked.

“I didn’t have to shoot anyone.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

With a nod she watched as he opened the juice and drank it straight from the bottle. She remembered the one time she had donated blood they had given her juice when it was over because she was lightheaded.

She swallowed and started the Jeep. Garrett didn’t move as she pulled out onto the back road they’d been traveling on, and followed the directions on the GPS.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“If something happens before we get to where we’re heading, keep going. There’s another car waiting there with everything you’ll need. You’ll be okay.”