Hidden Away (KGI #3)(74)

“I kissed you because I wanted to. That won’t change tomorrow.”

“It’s a good damn thing,” he growled.

He leaned in to kiss her again when a noise outside the door made him go rigid.

“Get behind me,” he ordered. “Do it now. Don’t make a goddamn sound. Don’t talk. Don’t react. You pretend you’re invisible. You got it?”

Every single part of her wanted to argue like hell, but she did what he asked and scrambled behind him and made herself as small as she could against the wall.

The door burst open bringing with it a blinding flood of light. Garrett bolted to his feet, and she didn’t know how he’d done it so fast and with such ease. It had to have been excruciating.

He stood, in an almost a casual pose, but his hands were fisted at his sides. A stream of Spanish erupted from the doorway and two of the men came into the room and took Garrett by the arms.

Fight, she silently willed him. Don’t take it. But oh God, he went willingly and she knew why. She closed her eyes as the door shut and rage billowed inside her. He didn’t want to do anything that would draw their attention to her. He didn’t defy them, because he feared they’d retaliate by hurting her.

She rammed her fist into her mouth to stifle the sob that swelled like a malignant growth. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give in to the despair. Garrett would need her. Strong and steady. Like him. She wouldn’t fail him. Not when he was sacrificing so much for her.

Bolting to her feet, she ran to the door and pressed her ear against it, straining to hear. She had to know. She didn’t want to, but she owed that much to Garrett, to know what was being done to him.

The murmur of voices continued forever. They were questioning him in broken English and his answers were clipped, noncommittal, the subtle version of go f**k yourself. After each negative response he gave, she tensed, expecting to hear the sound of them beating him.

But the questioning continued. She sagged against the door for what seemed like hours. Her legs were numb, her knees shaky and her entire body was bathed in perspiration.

And then it started. She flinched when the first sound of violence reached her. She held her breath until she was lightheaded. More questions. Another strike. They were slower and seemingly more measured this time.

Through it all Garrett remained silent, and she didn’t know how. How could a person’s will be so strong that they could suffer such pain and not give in to the urge to scream? When finally she heard the scrape of chairs and the sound of footsteps approaching the door, she flew back to the far wall, there next to the pallet. And she waited.

The door flew open, but this time, there was only one man and no sign of Garrett. He stared at her for a long moment and then crossed the room. He spit out a stream of Spanish and she never looked up, refusing to meet his gaze or to let him see how terrified she was.

He reached down and grabbed her hair with one hand and circled her arm with the other. He hauled her to her feet and shoved her toward the door, his grip never easing. The light blinded her and she closed her eyes and then blinked rapidly, trying to adjust as he forced her into the room.

She stumbled forward and gasped when she got her first good look of Garrett. He was tied to a chair, arms behind his back, completely vulnerable. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth. He looked tired and haggard, but the moment he looked up and saw her, something deadly entered his eyes.

They sharpened and where before he looked half unconscious, he was now fully alert, tense, his gaze taking in every detail.

The man standing to the side of Garrett put down the piece of wood in his hand and approached Sarah, his face expressionless. She looked past him, meeting Garrett’s gaze, trying to infuse every ounce of her strength to him. She allowed no fear to show and it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. And she pleaded with him silently not to do anything crazy. Not to draw their wrath. He couldn’t take much more.

The man circled her like a cat stalking his prey. He glanced up and down her body in a clear, suggestive manner and then he moved in close, his hand touching her cheek. She didn’t flinch away, but neither did she look at him.

He turned then to Garrett all the while keeping his hand on her face, stroking up and down her cheekbone.

“My men are very eager to have your woman,” the man said. “You’ve given me no reason to deny them.”

This one spoke nearly perfect English, his accent light. It was clear he was the authority figure here. It was also clear that he was the one who’d inflicted the most damage to Garrett. It was all she could do not to ram her knee into his nuts.

But she stood there, stoic and unmoving, all the while staring at Garrett, telling him she was okay.

“Tell me what I want to know or I leave her to them.”

Garrett’s nostrils flared. His gaze was so deadly that she shivered under the impact.

“I’ll tell you,” he finally said. “Leave her alone. You’ll never get what you want from her. It’s me who can provide the ransom.”

The man smiled, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “I had a feeling you’d see it my way.” He turned and snapped his fingers at one of his men, who immediately came forward. The other man grabbed Sarah’s arm and dragged her back toward the room. She turned her head, her gaze finding Garrett’s one last time. To her astonishment, he winked at her. She almost missed the gesture, it was done so quickly. And just as fast, Garrett’s focus was back on his captor.