Hidden Away (KGI #3)(19)

“Even when what you’re afraid of defies all logic?”

“Especially then. It’s been my experience that fear doesn’t have a set of parameters. We can’t turn it off just by realizing we shouldn’t be afraid.”

She nodded, a rueful twist to her lips.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you let me go into your cottage first. I’ll check it out. You stay on the porch. I’ll kick the shit out of any bogeymen and then you can come in.”

Her head swung up again and the relief in her eyes staggered him. Shit, she’d really been scared. Her fingers were curled into tight fists in her lap, so tight that her knuckles were white. He took in the dampness on her forehead and at her hairline. No, not just scared. Terrified.

Unable to resist, he reached with a tentative hand to touch her shoulder. Though she didn’t outright flinch away as she had before, she tensed and trembled underneath his fingers. Not wanting to cause her more stress, he pulled quickly away. He rose and then reached a hand down to help her up. He stood there, waiting for her to accept the gesture, allowing her to touch him on her own terms.

Finally she reached up and slid her damp palm over his. She wrapped her other hand in the strap of her bag and hauled it to her shoulder. He curled his fingers around hers and pulled as she got up from the steps.

“You don’t mind?” she asked nervously.

He smiled. “Not at all.”

Her shoulders lifted and then sagged as she breathed out. “Thank you. I know this is stupid. Irrational even. I—”

“Shhh,” he said, cutting her off in mid babble. “It’s not stupid and it’s not irrational. You had a hell of a scare earlier. Now, wait here while I go in.”

He started for the door when suddenly she bounded up the step after him.

“I forgot to tell you about the cat,” she rushed out. “Don’t let her out, I mean watch out for her. Her name is Patches.” She broke off then took a step back and sighed. “I’m babbling again.”

He smiled to reassure her. “I’ll look out for Patches and make sure the bogeyman didn’t get her either.”

“Oh, the key. You’ll need the key.” She hastily dug into her bag, her face drawn into a frustrated frown. Finally she pulled out a key ring that sported three keys and thrust it in his direction. “You’ll need them all. I mean, there are two dead bolts and the regular lock.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he turned to the door. She was careful. He’d give her that.

After a few moments of figuring out which key went where, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Patches meowed from her position on the couch and then laid her ears flat when she figured out Garrett was a stranger.

Garrett glanced around, noting the bareness of the room. It wasn’t much more updated than his own, though he did note she’d gotten the better draw. And she had a TV. Silence blanketed the house. Only the sounds of his footsteps echoed as he made his way down the hallway to the bedroom. He peeked in the bathroom, surprised that it wasn’t littered with girly paraphernalia. Then he entered the bedroom, taking note of the pristinely made bed and the fact that wasn’t so much as a shoe on the floor.

Neat freak. God save him.

Nothing out of place. In fact, nothing was in place. He glanced at the still-packed suitcase to the side of her bed. She was living out of her suitcase. Not even her toiletries were unpacked and in the bathroom.

She was prepared to run at a moment’s notice.

If he thought she wasn’t fully aware of the situation she was in, he was wrong. Resnick was wrong. This was a woman who knew full well that her time could be limited. She lived and breathed fear, waiting each minute for her world to upend.

Christ, that was no way to live.

Anger boiled up in his throat until the taste of acid was strong on his tongue. And frustration. He was intensely frustrated by not knowing everything. Resnick hadn’t done his job worth shit, because Garrett was faced with a woman with secrets. And he needed to know every damn piece of her past if he was going to figure out the best way to handle Sarah.

If she’d witnessed a murder, it wasn’t all that had happened. Someone had hurt her or scared the hell out of her, and it enraged him. Yeah, she was a job and he took each and every job seriously. He took his duty damn seriously. But the surge of protectiveness he felt whenever he looked at this scared, fragile woman went beyond that of a job. And he was at a loss to explain it.

He turned and finished his sweep of the house. Though he noted the two dead bolts on the front door, the windows in the house were completely unsecure. It would be a cakewalk to get through any of them, although he did notice that she’d moved the dresser directly in front of the window in the bedroom. It blocked any and all view, but then she wasn’t here for the scenery.

He walked back outside, where Sarah stood clutching her bag like a lifeline. “All clear.”

Her shoulders drooped and relief washed over her face. “Thank you.”

He waited for the inevitable dismissal. For her to walk past him, go inside and close the door behind her. But she just stood there, staring at the entrance like she was trying to gather the courage to take that first step.

“Hey,” he said gently, “I have an idea.”

Her gaze swung to him and she blinked, almost as if she’d forgotten his presence.