Before he could answer, the group’s rear guide walked past in a rush. Speaking into his handheld radio, he spat off something in rapid Spanish, assumably to the other guide at the front of the line.
When the other man’s response came through the small speaker—also in Spanish—Garrett’s entire body locked down.
“What is it?” she asked, knowing he spoke the language and had understood the conversation. “What did he say?”
The sound of men yelling rose over their idling motors.
“Sweetheart, I need you to listen very carefully.” Garrett unbuckled his shoulder harness and reached for something behind his back. “There’s a group of men up ahead. They have guns.”
“Guns?” Her voice rose two octaves. Heart slamming against her chest, her mind whirled to accept what he’d just told her. “W-what do they want?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled his hand—and apistol—free.
He had a gun, too?
What is happening?
Avery swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. With her pulse racing and fear zipping through her veins, she searched his eyes for answers.
“What’s going on?”
His lips parted to answer as tires squealed from behind. Jumping from the unexpected sounds, Avery turned her head just in time to see two men with really big guns climbing out of another truck and heading their way.
“Garrett…”
He slid the weapon she hadn’t even realized he had beneath his right thigh and reached for her hand. “I need you to stay calm.”
“Calm?” she spoke with a not-so-quiet whisper. “We’re being ambushed, and you want me to be calm?”
“Yes.” Garrett locked eyes with her. “Look, they’re probably just looking for money and jewelry. Just follow my lead and listen to what I say. No arguments.”
“O-okay.” Avery swallowed again.
Hell yes, she was going to listen to him. It wasn’t like she had a death wish.
Doing her best to keep her breaths steady, she sat and waited for whatever was about to come next.
The men coming from the rear waited until they were only a few feet away to begin shouting their orders.
“Get out!” one demanded.
Dressed head-to-toe in black—including some sort of thin, mesh masks that covered their faces—the men held their weapons in front of them. Their long barrels pointed directly at Avery and Garrett.
Oh, god!
“Do as they say, sweetheart.”
The quiet words were a calm in the midst of a terrifying storm.
Following orders, Avery fumbled to open the door, nearly stumbling as she rushed to get out. Her gut churned and legs wobbled to the point she thought she’d collapse.
Never, not once in all her twenty-eight years, had she ever felt such pure and utter terror.
Glancing down at Garrett’s empty seat, she looked to his hand, expecting it to be filled with the gun she’d seen seconds before. But he held nothing.
Where did it go?
She didn’t have time to figure it out because the two men holding them at gunpoint motioned for her to walk around to the other side, where Garrett stood.