Page 72 of Love at First Rep

Fuck. How does he know so much?

“No,” Garrett said more calmly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Leave Josh out of this. You’re right, I forgot that’s the name of the drug his parents worked on before they were tragically killed. All I know is they were scientists working on some weight loss drug, and they died after telling their supervisors they found problems.”

“How quickly you regained your memory. Incredible you forgot such a detail.”

Anatoly leaned forward in his chair, stretching over the back of it as far as he could and fixing Garrett with his brown soulless stare. “Tell me. Are you and Rafe fucking?”

Garrett flinched back in his chair.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He waved a hand in the air as if brushing off the question. “Merely curiosity. There is rumor he is no good in bed.”

What the fuck?

Garrett wasn’t trained for this line of questioning. The comment irritated him, and despite wanting to play dumb he couldn’t help saying, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I can confirm those rumors are false.”

“I see. And do you have feelings for Rafe?”

Mischief gleamed in Anatoly’s eyes that Garrett didn’t like.

“We’re reconnecting. He’s only been back a week.”

“Ah, but do you love him?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. What the fuck is this about? You kidnapped me to question me about my love life?” Garrett said, narrowing his eyes at Anatoly. What the fuck kind of questions were these?

“Interesting you said love life instead of sex life. I want to know how you really feel about him. What you would do for him. Would you do anything for him?”

“That’s a conversation for Rafe and me, not a guy who kidnapped me and strapped me to a chair with a guard dog craving blood.”

“Hm. Perhaps there is another way I can find out. How about we ask Rafe himself?”

Garrett’s stomach dropped.

“What?”

The door to the left flew open, and a man with his head covered entered with Rafe slung over his back. Rafe had duct tape across his mouth and around his hands and feet, and tears in his eyes.

“Rafe!” Garrett shouted, turning back to Anatoly. “What are you doing with him? What the fuck do you people want?”

Garrett’s eyes burned as he saw the fear in Rafe’s gaze.

Anatoly stood and spun his chair while the new visitor plopped Rafe in the seat facing Garrett.

“Rafe, are you okay?”

Tears streamed from Rafe’s eyes, but he nodded, and Garrett choked out a sob.

The unknown man turned and sneered at Garrett with disdain. He wore a head covering similar to Zorro and stood around the same height as Anatoly, who now stood next to Brookie while sharpening that damn knife.

A gun appeared from behind the masked man’s back, and he pointed it at Rafe’s knee.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Tell the truth,” he said, a slight Hispanic accent in his voice. “Who is Rafe to you?”

“Please, don’t hurt him. I have no idea what’s going on here. Please, leave him alone.”