Page 70 of Love at First Rep

Garrett should have never brought the two of them into this, whatever this was. How could he be so stupid? Clearly, this was bigger than he thought. Before he did anything else, he needed to protect Riley and Josh. He stood, trying not to tremble as he spoke.

“You do nothing. I was never here. Don’t open the door for anyone. But if you get to the point where someone asks you anything, tell them it was all me. Give them my phone number, my address, any info they want. I’m gonna leave, and you’re gonna lock the door behind me and barricade it. Close the window blinds. Don’t leave this place until you hear from me again, okay?”

He grabbed a notepad and pen off Josh’s desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and handed the note over to Riley.

“If you don’t hear from me by nine a.m. tomorrow, call this number. It’s my friend, Detective Casey Campisi. He knows the basics, but you can fill in the blanks for him. You can trust him. Do you understand?”

Riley and Josh nodded, and Riley stood, wrapping an arm around Josh’s waist and pulling him close. Garrett would never forgive himself if he put these two in danger.

“W-what are you gonna do?” Josh asked quietly.

“I’m gonna find whoever is behind this. Rafe is involved, but I don’t know how.”

Josh rushed forward and wrapped him in another hug, Riley giving him one too after Josh released him.

“Be careful, okay?” Josh whispered.

“We better fucking hear from you,” Riley demanded.

“I’ll do my best. Remember what I said.”

Garrett repeated his instructions as he walked to their front door, the deadbolt echoing behind him in the empty hallway.

The first thing he planned to do was call Rafe and demand to know what the fuck was going on. He had no service in these halls or in the stairwell so he rushed out of the building, scanning his environment before focusing on his phone and pulling up Rafe’s number.

Rafe’s phone went right to voicemail, but the screech of tires interrupted Garrett’s anger. A van skidded to a stop on the street in front of him. His hand flew to his shoulder holster to grab his gun, but before he could reach it, an arm wrapped around him, pinning his arms against his body. Stinging pain hit him in his shoulder as masked men exited the vehicle. He tried to shout, but before he could make a noise everything went black.

22

CONSCIOUSNESS SLOWLY RETURNED TO Garrett. He forced himself to remain still. If he could get some intel about his situation before alerting his captor that he woke up, it could be a game changer.

He was in a seated position, his head drooped toward his chest. He didn’t detect any pain, besides the ache in his shoulder where his captors likely injected him with a knock-out drug. His hands were tied behind his back and around the chair he sat on, the wood digging into his arms and a scratchy rope chafing his skin. His legs were bound too. It wasn’t the worst position he could find himself in, so hopefully that meant these people wanted him alive. At least for now. He’d fight with everything he had to stay alive.

Darkness surrounded him as he cracked his eyes open a little bit at a time. Dim light streamed through fabric in front of him. So he had a bag over his head. Freaking wonderful.

Garrett strained his ears for sound and heard something ruffling softly to his right, possibly someone’s clothing shifting. Their breath stayed soft and even, the calmness only escalating Garrett’s nerves.

Whoever was in the room with him hummed an unfamiliar tune, an uncomfortable sound over the clink of metal.

“Ah, you are awake,” a deep voice with a strong Russian accent said.

Cloth grazed Garrett’s face as the stranger pulled the bag off his head. The careful movement gave Garrett hope that this guy didn’t want to hurt him… yet.

Calloussed hands held his cheeks and shifted his head until he stared into deep brown eyes. “Hello there, Tovarishch,” the man said, smiling with way too many teeth. It reminded Garrett a bit of the Joker. “My name is Anatoly Pavlov, and I will be your interrogator today.”

Uh, okay?

Garrett didn’t expect such a polite greeting from someone who kidnapped him in broad daylight. He only hoped Riley and Josh were safe.

Anatoly was dressed in stylish jeans and a tight blue T-shirt, his lean muscles on full display. He was a couple inches short of six feet. He had stubble and curly brown hair to his chin, and appeared far too delighted to meet Garrett. That gave Garrett a burst of fear and made him act. Removing the razor blade hidden in his leather belt, he started working at the knots holding his wrists together.

After clocking his kidnapper, Garrett scanned the room. A roll-up overhead door took up one wall across from him, a long mirror stretched across the wall next to a regular door to his left and a counter filled with tools he’d prefer to ignore sat to his right. He stretched to look behind him in each direction but couldn’t see anything besides an empty desk.

When he turned back, he realized how wrong he was about being alone with the man. In front of the roll-up door sat a German Shepherd who stared him down hungrily. When Garrett made eye contact with the dog, it growled.

Not wanting to think about any impending canine attack, he drew his eyes back to Anatoly. The man smiled, a creepy edge to his grin that made Garrett think he was about to be skinned alive.

Was this the same Russian Rafe spoke to on the phone the night before? Garrett had trouble believing that was only last night.