SARAH stirred and tried to blink away the groggy, hungover feeling that cloaked her like a thick fog. It took her a moment to even remember what had happened and that Rio had drugged her. She was also no longer in the SUV they’d traveled in, nor was she on a helicopter that she knew they’d intended to take into Belize.
She pushed herself upward, taking in her surroundings. Immediately her gaze locked with Garrett, who was sitting up, his back to the side of what looked to be an old utility van. Briefly she gazed around to see Rio also sitting in the back, as well as Terrence and another team member she hadn’t caught the name of. Browning and Alton were in the front, Browning driving.
Then she glanced back at Garrett, who studied her with frank appraisal.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“That’s a ridiculous question,” she grumbled. “The real question is, how are you?”
He cracked a grin and then patted the small space beside him. She crawled over and nestled into his side.
“I prefer you close to me,” he murmured. “And I’m okay. Just stove up. I’ll be sore for a couple of days, but that’s all.”
She was skeptical of his self-diagnosis but she didn’t argue. What she did do was glare over at Rio, whose lips twitched suspiciously.
“He’s going to a clinic at least, right?”
Rio nodded. “Yes ma’am. Whether he wants to or not.”
She nodded. “Good.”
“Glad I have such a say here,” Garrett said dryly.
She laid her head on Garrett’s shoulder. “What do we do then? I mean, where do we go? I assume you’ll need to check in with Marcus. I don’t know what your arrangement is with him, but he’s very used to being on top of things.”
He tensed a moment before moving so he could put an arm around her. “You let me worry about Lattimer, okay? Rio and his team are going to stay with us so we don’t get into any more situations like before.”
She sighed and knew she needed to come clean with everything. Before ... before there were several reasons she held back. She wasn’t entirely certain she could trust Garrett—at first. That had faded away, and now he was the only person she did trust. And she was ashamed. Deeply humiliated by what had happened to her and her sense of betrayal had been so numbing that she hadn’t been able to fathom telling anyone. Not Marcus—especially not Marcus.
Garrett needed to know exactly what he was dealing with, because from the moment he’d told her that Allen’s brother had hired someone to find her, she knew. She was a threat to Stanley Cross. If she was ever hauled into court to testify against Marcus for killing Stanley’s brother, the whole sordid tale would come out. Allen was dead, but Stanley wasn’t, and he could still be held accountable for his role in her rape.
“Sarah?”
The question in Garrett’s voice told her he knew something was bothering her. But she couldn’t tell him now. Not in front of his men even though they’d have to know later.
So she shook her head to let Garrett know it was nothing. And later, after he’d been taken care of, she would divulge the last of her secrets.