Page 28 of Saving Their Forever

Wren

I jerk awake, my head bouncing and hitting the hard floor of the van. Another pothole. I think. Wherever we’re going, the road is full of them.

Fort…something…? Everything’s fuzzy. Like my ears are full of cotton. My brain too. Strange scents surround me. Sweet. Sweaty. Someone puked.

My heart races. Was it me? They gave me something. Koyla. Koyla’s dead. Ry killed him. I’m not back there. Not chained to that pipe. Not high.

I wheeze, the panic so strong, I’m about to lose myself to it.

“Wren.”

The deep voice shocks me enough to open my eyes. Dax. He’s on his side across from me.

“Breathe,” he says. His voice is thick, and he groans as he stretches his legs.

A dark shadow moves between us. “Quiet!” one of the men who took me shouts. He punctuates his order with a swift kick to Dax’s torso.

“She’s…panicking…asshole,” he manages. “What…do you think…is gonna happen if she’s not okay when Ryker…shows up?”

I dig my fingers into my palms until I can’t stand the pain any longer. It helps. Enough for me to take an unsteady breath. Nausea rolls through me. Pressure tightens a band around my stomach, building from just under my ribs and moving down like a wave.

No. Not here. Not like this. I try to feel between my legs, but my limbs are so heavy. My water hasn’t broken. Not yet. At least…I don’t think so.

The walls pulse all around me like some sort of demented fun house. Darkness creeps along the edges of my vision, and my head tingles.

The disgusting strawberry drink threatens to come back up. I should have known what was happening. Should have told the nurse to leave until Ry figured out how to open that fire door.

They still would have taken you.

But…I could have screamed. Maybe someone would have heard me. I don’t remember much after they grabbed me. Snatches. The elevator doors closing. A blanket. Then a whiff of fresh air before I landed on this hard floor.

I have to do something. Find a way to get myself out of this mess. Dax and Rip too.

“I’m going to be sick,” I moan and try to curl into a ball. “I need water…”

The guy who kicked Dax mutters something under his breath, but he unzips a large duffel bag and retrieves a bottle, then tosses it at my feet.

I could reach it, but if they think I’m more out of it than I am, maybe they’ll let down their guard? “Help me…”

“You are an idiot, Mashaal,” the man in the front passenger seat says sharply. “And we are not monsters. Sit down.”

Mashaal sinks down at the back of the van, while the other man makes his way over to me. “I am sorry for this, Mrs. McCabe. We do not wish to hurt you.” He helps me sit up, twists the cap off the bottle, and holds it to my lips.

It’s warm, but it helps banish the sickly sweet remnants of strawberry and drugs. “Who are you?” I whisper when he reseals the bottle and sets it next to me.

“My name is Ramin. My brother, Jalal, is driving. Mashaal is my cousin, and his brother Hadi is following us. We have been looking for your husband for many years.”

“Why?”

Ramin settles down, sitting cross-legged with his hands on his knees. “Because ten years ago, the United States Special Forces bombed the apartment building we lived in.” He pulls up the sleeve of his dark brown tunic to reveal terrible burn scars all the way up to his elbow. “Many people died that day. Others…suffered.”

“We didn’t bomb the building,” Dax says, and Mashaal springs up and punches him in the face. His head snaps back and hits the wall of the van.

“Please…” I cradle my belly, hoping my daughter will kick and let me know whatever they gave me isn’t hurting her. “Don’t do this. If you let us go?—”

His expression hardens. That was the wrong thing to say. My legs shake as I pull them up to try to protect my baby, but he doesn’t strike me. “You, we will release. But McCabe and those two,” he cuts his gaze to Dax and Ripper, “will die.”

Tears spill over onto my cheeks. He can’t let me go. “I know your names. And your faces. You’re going to kill me too, aren’t you?”

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