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He took the sat phone and stepped outside the reinforced, bulletproof glass doors to the enclosed patio off the master suite. The windows were tinted and was the only room in the house that allowed a sweeping view of the valley below.

Still, he remained in the shadows, in the corner and dialed up Donovan.

“Miss us already?” Donovan drawled a moment later.

“It’s time,” Garrett said quietly. “Send an email to Lattimer. Pretend you’re Sarah and tip him off. I don’t care what you tell him, just get him here. Let Resnick know so he can be in place. I need this over with as soon as possible. There are too many risks and Stanley Cross is the wild card here. He wants Sarah taken out.”

“Allen Cross’s brother?”

“Yeah, Allen Cross is the son of a bitch who raped Sarah, but his brother was there. He watched. He participated. His story about hiring a recovery firm to bring Sarah in because she can help bring his brother’s killer to justice is bullshit. He wants her out of the picture so she can’t hurt him.”

“Damn,” Donovan muttered. “What a fucking asshole. I vote that when this crap is over with Lattimer that you and I go on a little hunting trip.”

Garrett grinned. One thing he loved about Donovan was that he had a very personal sense of justice when it came to certain crimes.

“What are you going to do about Sarah, Garrett? It’s obvious she means a lot to you.”

“Let me worry about Sarah,” he said gruffly.

“I’ll send the email. You need to alert Rio and be on guard. It’s possible Lattimer won’t even show. He might send his men in after her.”

Garrett shook his head. “He’ll come. Sarah is personal to him. He killed Allen Cross because he hurt Sarah. Personally. He didn’t send someone else to do it though he could easily have done so. He risked a damn lot showing his face on U.S. soil again. Coming to Belize will be nothing to him.”

“Be ready, Garrett. Lattimer’s no amateur. He’s a ruthless bastard with a very gray sense of justice.”

Garrett thought back to when he faced Lattimer down all those years ago and felt the ripping sensation of the bullet Lattimer fired tearing into his leg. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know. I’ve waited a damn long time for this, Donovan. I won’t fuck it up. And tell Resnick he better damn well be careful. If he barges in here like a fucking idiot, Rio and his men are going to take exception. This is our show and Resnick better play by our rules.”

“I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

Garrett hung up the phone and then called Rio to relay the news.

SARAH hummed contentedly as she set out the plates for breakfast. She dished up the eggs and bacon and then went to the oven to pull out the pan of biscuits that had turned golden brown. It was easy to forget that they were in some way out-of-the-way place in Central America, or that she and Garrett had endured a harrowing captivity just two days earlier.

Peace that she hadn’t experienced in a long time settled over her like a warm and comforting blanket. She felt energized. She felt alive. And she felt hope for her future.

It was all silly. This giddy, feeling that gripped her. But it was fun and light and she wanted to laugh for the sheer joy of laughing. She smiled as she put the tray of biscuits on the counter and then she looked up and found Garrett across the room watching her with those intense blue eyes.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked as he ambled over.

A delicious thrill ran over her body all over again as she recalled the previous night. “I’m happy.”

There was a brief glimmer of tension that rippled across his face before he walked over to where she stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his back. He kissed the side of her neck. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

She rotated in his arms and leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Thank you for last night. For listening. For just letting me get it out without judging or reacting.”

He squeezed her and kissed her long and lingering, his lips melting over hers. “He won’t touch you, Sarah. Ever again.”

“Have you let Marcus know what’s going on? I don’t want him to worry.”

“He knows.”

She stared up at him for a long moment as reality edged its way into her euphoria. Strange how it always worked that way. Thinking of Marcus had brought home the fact that her entire life had been upended. She was starting over with only Marcus to rely on for help.

She pulled away and placed the biscuits on a platter and then went to set them on the table. Garrett followed her and when she went to sit down, he put his hand over her wrist, holding her in place.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She sighed and eased down into her chair. She picked up her fork and speared a piece of egg and then pushed it around her plate. “My life is a mess,” she said honestly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve been in survival mode for so long, just taking it day by day, never thinking beyond the immediate. Marcus would like nothing more than to take care of me, for him to put me up somewhere where I never had to worry about money or work, but what kind of life is that? Existing, but not living. I can’t return to Boston. I wouldn’t, even if Stanley Cross got hit by a bus tomorrow.”

“It’s a pleasant enough thought,” Garrett cut in.

She smiled. “Yes, I admit it is. But I wouldn’t want him to die immediately. I’d want him to linger for several days and be in agonizing pain.”

“I love it when you get all ruthless.”

“You know what I love about you?” she said in an instant change of topic.

He blinked in surprise. “My amazing body? My ability to give you awesome orgasms?”

She laughed. “Aside from that.”

“Do tell.”

“It’s really hard to throw a pity party because you know just what to say to make me laugh and smile.”

His eyes grew serious. “I’m not making light of your situation, honey. If anyone has a reason to bitch, it’s you.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean it. Somehow it never seems quite so bad when I talk to you. I was sitting here thinking about what the hell I’m going to do after this is all over with. But then I think if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have those concerns because I’d probably be dead. And life ... it’s precious, you know? Even when it’s bad, it’s still good.”

“Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you do or say something that just makes me realize that I haven’t even scratched the surface of the woman you are.”

Her cheeks warmed under the blatant admiration in his voice.

“You’re pretty damn special yourself, Garrett.”

His lips tightened and he looked down at his food, forking up a bite of eggs and shoveling them into his mouth.

“Tell me about you and Marcus. You were raised in foster homes and yet he’s your half brother. He seems pretty concerned about you now. Why weren’t you raised together?”

The question caught her off guard and for a moment she sat there, fork frozen midway to her mouth. She lowered it to her plate and was silent a moment.

“Marcus and I shared a father. I never knew him, but from what I’ve heard he was a real bastard. Marcus hated him because he was unfaithful to Marcus’s mom when he knocked my mom up. I would have thought that would give him reason enough to hate me. My mom wasn’t self-sufficient. She was the type of woman who floated from man to man, looking for someone to take care of her because she had no desire to be responsible or hold a job. When she got pregnant with me, I think she thought I was her meal ticket. The problem was, my father wanted nothing to do with either of us. He sent her away without a dime and told her he’d kill her if she ever tried to make trouble for him. Granted, this was my mother’s side and I was very young when she told me these stories, but Marcus did confirm that my mother did go to my father’s house when she found out she was pregnant with me and that our father threw her out.”