“Get up and get dressed, honey. We’ve got to move fast.”
She scrambled out of bed and ran to the drawers to yank out her clothing.
“Get what you can stuff into your bag. Leave everything else. We don’t have time,” he said as he pulled on his jeans.
While she thrust items into her bag, Garrett retrieved his holster and shoved his Glock into it. He threw the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and patted his pockets for his knife.
“I’m ready,” Sarah said in a remarkably steady voice.
He kissed her forehead and then thrust her into the hall ahead of him. They hurried down the hall, through the living room and to the garage where Rio and the others waited.
“Steele and his team are covering our exit. Then they’ll rendezvous with us at the river,” Rio said as they piled into the two trucks.
As soon as they burst from the dark garage, Garrett saw the hazy film of smoke in the air and the smell of scorched earth assaulted his nostrils. In the distance, the sky was blocked by a film of dark smoke and as they rounded the corner of Rio’s drive, they got a glimpse of orange flames shooting skyward.
Rio accelerated as they lurched from his smoother drive onto the rough, narrow roadway that would take them to the river. They roared over bumps and holes and Garrett’s grip tightened around Sarah so she wouldn’t hurt herself or land on the floor.
The river was visible ahead when suddenly two dark SUVs pulled directly in front of their vehicle and blocked the road. Rio slammed on the brakes, fishtailed sideways and in the same instant, jammed it into reverse and gunned the motor. Rio turned to look over his shoulder as he steered with his left hand and roared backward down the path they’d come.
Garrett shoved Sarah to the floor and drew his weapon as Terrance did the same. The other SUV that occupied the rest of Rio’s men was racing backward just behind Rio. The two vehicles were nearly back to the main road when yet more SUVs pulled onto the path to block them.
“Son of a bitch,” Rio swore. “I knew this was a setup!”
He braked, jammed the gearshift into drive and started forward again. They were nearly to the first vehicles that had blocked them when an explosion sounded and the vehicle careened wildly to the right. Rio fought for control and managed to reign the vehicle in but too late, they rolled to a stop against a tree.
The vehicle lurched on impact, throwing Garrett against the passenger seat.
“Sarah!” he barked. “Are you okay? Stay down.”
“I’m fine,” she returned.
“Fuckers shot out our tire,” Rio bit out.
“Fuck,” Terrance muttered.
Garrett looked up to see what Terrance was swearing over only to find five heavily armed men just outside the vehicle, their rifles all pointed directly at them. One motioned with his rifle for them to get out.
“Fuck,” Garrett echoed.
Rio raised his hands from the steering wheel. “I hope to fuck Steele and company make it here fast. As much as it pains me to say, they’re going to have to get our asses out of this one.”
“Garrett?”
Sarah’s fear-filled voice rose from her position on the floorboard.
“Come up, Sarah,” Garrett said. “Slowly. Don’t make any sudden movements. When we get out I want you to stay behind me and Rio at all times. Understand?”
She nodded as she slowly climbed onto the seat.
Terrance opened his door and slowly got out. Rio followed suit and then Garrett carefully got out on his side and then motioned for Sarah. He gripped her wrist and pulled her out but was careful to tuck her behind his back as he turned to face their threat.
Behind them, the rest of Rio’s team got out of their trucks and closed ranks around Sarah from behind. Garrett could feel Sarah shaking against him and he squeezed her reassuringly.
Several feet ahead of the men holding them at gunpoint, another person got out of one of the vehicles. When he turned in Garrett’s direction, instant recognition flashed through Garrett’s mind.
Marcus Lattimer slid the shades from his eyes and stared coldly in Garrett’s direction as he slowly walked toward him.
Garrett’s grip tightened around Sarah.
“Sarah, come out here,” Marcus called softly as if he had no desire to frighten her either.
Sarah stiffened against Garrett’s back and then cautiously she stuck her head around Garrett. “Marcus?” she whispered.
“Are you all right?” Marcus demanded.
“Of course. Garrett has taken good care of me.”
“Come away from Garrett,” Marcus ordered. “He’s no friend, Sarah. He’s using you to get to me.”
Sarah took a step forward, but her face wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand. You hired him, Marcus. He’s only done the job you hired him to do. He’s protected me.”
Marcus held out his hand and as soon as Sarah took it, he yanked her to his side.
“He lied,” Marcus said shortly. “I didn’t hire him. He quite likely works for the U.S. government. He would have done whatever was necessary to draw me out, including hacking into your email and sending me messages to draw me out.”
Garrett’s stomach churned as Sarah only looked more confused.
“No, Marcus, you’re wrong. Garrett didn’t use me. He protected me. He ...” She trailed off when she turned haunted eyes on Garrett. He stared stoically at her and something died in Sarah’s expression. “It’s true?” she whispered as she stared dully at Garrett.
“No, it’s damn well not true,” Garrett growled.
“Then why did you tell me Marcus hired you? Marcus says he didn’t.”
Garrett wasn’t going to explain the whole goddamn thing here. He hoped to fuck that Steele and his team were moving in fast. It would be nice if for once Resnick was on tap at the right time.
“Your brother is a traitor,” Garrett spat.
Marcus lifted one brow even as he pulled Sarah closer to him. His hand slipped comfortingly over Sarah’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. At least the bastard seemed to genuinely care for Sarah. He wouldn’t hurt her.
“I remember you now,” Marcus said casually. “You were the Marine I shot in Libya.”
Garrett’s nostrils flared and he snarled in Marcus’s direction, “A lot of American soldiers lost their lives trying to save your ass.”
“I don’t recall asking your government to do anything,” Marcus said calmly.
Sarah looked between Garrett and Marcus, her confusion and hurt mounting by the minute. “What’s going on?” she croaked out.
Marcus turned gentle eyes on her. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I have many enemies. Men who would think nothing of stooping to using women in their war against me. I’m so sorry he got to you before I did. I wouldn’t have had you hurt for the world.”
She turned to Garrett for confirmation but his cold stare said it all. He hated Marcus. She glanced at Rio and to his men, all men who’d sworn to protect her. All the time they were using her to draw her brother out. The very thing she’d feared the most had come to pass. She had been used against Marcus. Only it wasn’t the judicial system as she’d feared. These were men who’d think nothing of killing her brother in cold blood. She’d led them directly to him.
Nausea welled in her stomach. She’d trusted Garrett as she’d never thought to trust another person. She’d made love to him. She’d given him everything and all along he was involved in some sick vendetta against her brother.
She’d told him she loved him.
“How could I have been so stupid?”
The whispered words came out in a painful rush. Garrett flinched and raised his glittering gaze to her. “Sarah—”
The ground exploded beside Sarah as dirt flew in all directions. The distant retort of a rifle shot echoed and she stood there, stunned as she stared down at the dirt all over her feet.
Garrett and Marcus both lunged for her at the same time, but Marcus was there first, leaping in front of her and turning her so she was trapped between him and the vehicle.
Marcus’s body lurched against her as another shot sounded and Marcus grunted in pain. She shoved at Marcus, wanting to see. The next thing she knew, Garrett had pulled her away from Marcus and flung her to the ground, his big body covering her as the world went crazy around her.
“Sniper at three o’clock!” Garrett roared. “Take cover!”
Pandemonium ensued. Sarah shoved at Garrett but she couldn’t see or hear what was going on. Gunfire sounded loud in her ears, deafening her to all else. Her chest squeezed painfully as she glanced to the side to see Marcus lying on the ground a mere foot away, blood trickling from his mouth.
P.J. heard the shot and jerked her gaze in the direction of the gunfire. The shooter was close—at most, twenty yards. She drew her pistol and stalked stealthily through the heavy cover, her nose quivering as her gaze took in every inch of thick foliage. She didn’t dare radio. The sniper would hear.
She smelled him before she spotted him. Stupid asshole. His stench wafted through the leaves. Sweat. He reeked of it. He wasn’t a professional, which took the challenge right out of it for her. This would be like taking down an infant.
She crept up behind him, disgusted that he hadn’t even heard her. She pressed the barrel of her pistol to his head. “Down, asshole!”
The man whirled around and tried to charge her. She rolled her eyes, stuck out her foot and in a lightning move, yanked his arm back as he went down. She fell on top of him, his arm twisted painfully behind his back. His face was in the mud and her barrel was dug into his back.
She shoved him over and kicked away his rifle. The man ought to be shot for not taking better care of his equipment. It was a sin to abuse such a fine piece of weaponry. She dug her pistol into the side of his neck as she sat astride him.
“Talk motherfucker. Who do you work for?”
The man spit at her and she punched him. “You’re pissing me off. Don’t make me cut off your nuts.”
She reached her knife and flipped it open until the blade gleamed wickedly in the light.
“I’d listen to her. She’s pretty mean when she’s pissed off,” Cole drawled.
P.J. looked up to see her teammate leaning against a tree several feet away, amusement glittering in his eyes.
She returned her gaze to her prisoner to see disbelief in his eyes.
She cut the button off his fly and used the knife blade to pry open his pants. He sucked in his breath when she got to his underwear, and she made quick work of the material covering his dick.
She shot him a pitying glance. “Not that there’s a whole lot to be prideful over, but still, most men would rather not do without. Though in your case, I can’t imagine it makes much difference.”
The man’s face flushed with anger and he tried to roll her off him. She rammed her fist into his nuts and brought the pistol stock down over his jaw.
“Now, let’s try this again. You tell me who you are and who you work for or I cut off your dick and make you eat it.”
“Now, P.J.,” Cole chided, “you don’t want to add it to your collection?” He shook his head at the man underneath her. “I used to think she had dick envy or something. Now I just know she’s one mean bitch. She collects dicks, you know, like trophies. Dries them out, tans them like an animal hide and then hangs them on her wall. Kind of sick, if you ask me, but everyone has their hobbies.”
“You’re lying,” the man gasped out. But sweat rolled down his face and his eyes bulged out of his head as he stared at the knife in horror.
“Well, granted yours isn’t anything to brag about, but I’m sure I have a place on my wall for it,” she said with a shrug. She made another cut to his pants and the acrid smell of piss assaulted her nose.
“Well hell, he pissed himself, Cole. That’s going to make this a little more difficult.”
“Okay, okay!” the man shouted. “Stanley Cross hired me. Wants me to take out the Daniels bitch. Doesn’t care how. He wanted me to bring back photographic evidence of her death. If I do, he pays me a mil.”
P.J. sat back and faked a look of disappointment. “Well, damn.”
“Get her off me!”
Cole chuckled. “I don’t usually mess with P.J. I’m kind of fond of my dick.”
P.J. rolled off but was careful to keep her pistol aimed at the man’s head. “Get up, asshole.”
As P.J. walked over to where Cole stood, he murmured low enough for only her to hear. “Dick collection, Rutherford? You didn’t have to have quite so much enthusiasm.”
She chuckled. “As fond as you men are of them, I figured he’d squeal sooner if I threatened his dick.”
SARAH scrambled over to Marcus as soon as Garrett moved off her. Marcus lay partially on his side and she rolled him to his back, terrified at the copious amount of blood staining his chest.
“Marcus,” she pleaded. “Talk to me please. I’ll get you help.”