Chapter 8
When Eli stumbled out of the bedroom mid-afternoon, he found Jarrett sitting at the dining room table with Agent Yager, a black case resting on the floor at Yager’s feet. Both men looked up as he bolted straight for the coffee, but Jarrett was the only one to smile at him.
“Feel better?” Jarrett asked.
“As soon as I get some coffee in me,” he mumbled.
He could have stalled facing them. He’d woken up to the distant hum of voices and knew automatically one of them was Jarrett’s. Though he was disappointed he didn’t remember Jarrett coming back to bed, the sleep had been worth it. His dreams had been Sahara hot, a sweaty Jarrett covering him, smothering him, filling every hole he had before pulling Eli onto him so he could do the same. They were far more graphic than the ones he
