way out and run. She couldn’t blame him for that assumption.
Up until Mitch’s intrusion in her life, she’d considered herself to be a stand-up person. A courageous woman. Someone with conviction and morals. Which just went to prove she hadn’t known herself at all.
All it had taken to force her to cave like a spineless weasel were a couple of nasty threats against the men she loved.
Side by side, in complete silence, they walked through the sliding glass doors and up to the check-in counter. The ocean of distance between them swelled with each step. Brett paid for the room, took possession of the keycards, and they returned to his truck. The room he’d been given was in the west wing, four floors up. He parked around the corner, directly in front of the side door, and snagged her suitcase and his duffel bag.
That was Brett, still the gentleman—even when he hated your guts.
She trudged up the stairs ahead of him. The knifelike silence surrounding them carved a hole in her belly.
“We’re here,” he finally said, breaking the unbearable tension.
Turning, she backtracked to where he’d stopped. He already had the door propped open. She stepped through, hearing the rattle of her suitcase as he followed her. Then the harsh thump and click as the door closed behind them, sealing them in ice and anger.
She glanced over the room. Two queen beds. A dresser with a television on top. Standard motel fare. In the far corner next to the curtained window were a desk and an office chair. Across from them, was an armchair. She made a beeline for it. At least the upholstered back and arms would provide some support through the ordeal ahead.
Brett parked her suitcase next to the dresser and followed her across the room. Before sitting in the office chair, he turned on the desk lamp. The blue eyes that locked on her face were dark and shuttered.
“Start from the beginning,” he ordered flatly.
Sarah nodded, but took a few seconds to focus. “Do you remember the training session you went to, the one just before I broke things off with you?”
Something flashed across his face, something she couldn’t decipher. It vanished almost immediately.
“I remember.” His voice was grim.
“Mitch came to see me while you were gone. He showed me a video. One that was time stamped from a couple of months earlier. In the video, Sean was with a bunch of men in a warehouse. There were two SUVs and a bunch of crates. Sean opened one of the crates and it was filled with guns. Thick, black guns.”
“Assault rifles,” Brett said grimly, bracing his elbows on his knees. He leaned forward in the desk chair, his face unreadable.
“Okay.” She waited a few seconds, and when he didn’t say anything else, she continued. “A couple of the men inspected the guns…pulled some out…went over them…that kind of thing. And one of the men with Sean—he seemed to be in charge—said, 'Top of the line. Military grade. You won’t find them cheaper.' The guy buying the guns nodded at one of his men. There must have been some kind of an electronic transaction, because the guy with Sean pulled out his phone and, after a few minutes, he said, ‘It’s all here. We’re good to go.’” She flitted a glance at Brett. He looked distant, a billion miles removed from her. Trying to swallow the ache from her throat, she looked away, forcing out the rest of it. “They loaded the crates into one of the SUVs and everyone left.”
“Was Mitch in the video?” Brett asked, with no expression on his face or inflection in his voice.
Sarah shook her head.
“Porter Hayes.”
He meant her kidnapper. Sarah shook her head again.
“Did you recognize anyone in the video?”
“No. Just Sean.”
He frowned over that for a minute. “What happened next?”
Sarah looked down at her hands, found her fingers twisted together and completely white. She forced them to separate and relax. “Mitch said the crates had been full of stolen military weapons. Weapons that had been used to kill five Army Special Forces soldiers in Africa. He said that if Sean were caught, he would be facing treason charges and eventual execution.”
“Jesus, Sarah.” As if he couldn’t sit still any longer, Brett launched to his feet and paced to the door and back. “Why the hell didn’t you bring this to me?”
“Because Mitch said he’d turn the video over to the authorities if I did. He said Sean would be arrested, convicted. But