Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(61)

He rolled his eyes while covertly checking to see if the legs had stopped twitching. When he turned back to her, she was checking him out. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just his pajama bottoms.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and dropped the towel. “And I think I should thank you properly.”





Chapter Forty-Seven


They were a happy couple. At least, Sam thought so. She was certainly happier with Garrett than she’d ever been before in her life.

For the next month, it was all sex and talking, sex and watching movies, and sex and playing poker…which sometimes led to more sex.

One afternoon they were snuggling on the sofa, her back against his chest as they watched a movie. She wasn’t really interested in the film. She was enjoying the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her shoulder, and his big arms around her.

Safe.

Suddenly, the house alarm sounded. An all-out wailing siren, like a smoke detector on steroids. They were both on their feet instantly, and in motion. She pulled on her shoes and grabbed her gun from the coffee table.

“Go, Sam. Run,” he shouted at her when her shoes were tied and her jacket was on.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.” She tucked her gun in her jeans.

“You go. Alone. I’ll stay here to give you time.”

“No.”

“No questions, remember?” He didn’t even look at her as he gathered up guns and checked the ammo.

“I can help.”

When he looked back at her, she barely recognized him. He was no longer the man who’d shared her bed each night. He wasn’t the guy who snuggled with her on the sofa and played with her hair.

He was a hardened federal marshal. She’d forgotten how cold and businesslike he could be when on duty.

“Sam, for the love of God, get your ass out of here and go to the bunker right this second. And do not come out this time. I mean it!” he yelled, dragged her to the back door, and shoved her out.

“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.