Page 29 of Saving Their Forever

He’s almost tender as he reaches out and lays his palm on my belly. “No. I give you my word. When McCabe, Holloway, and Richards are dead, we will leave this world knowing we have brought honor to our families. It does not matter that you can identify us. Because we will be in Jannah.”

I want to squirm away from his touch. “What’s…Jannah?”

“Heaven.”

* * *

I don’t know how long we’ve been driving. But at least ten or fifteen minutes have passed since Raman gave me water. Dax hasn’t moved since Mashaal punched him. Ripper is staring straight ahead, his eyes glassy, and shaking. I wish I could help him. But another cramp—this one much stronger—rolls through me, and I drop my head to my knees.

Is this labor? I wish I knew for sure. Though, would Ramin be able to tell that it’s not? If I act like I’m about to give birth, would he take me to the hospital now? Or would he even care?

I don’t trust him to actually let me go. If I cause trouble, he could hurt me. Or kill me before Ryker can get to wherever the heck we’re going. I need to see him one more time. To tell him I love him. To tell him this isn’t his fault. If he can’t find a way to rescue me—Dax and Rip too—he’ll never forgive himself.

Reaching for the bottle of water, I try to remember what the books told me. Early labor can last for hours. Even a day. I was only two centimeters earlier. I can’t be much more than that now. Right?

“How much longer?” I ask, and let my head fall back against the side of the van. Let them think I’m not doing very well. I need them to underestimate me if I have any hope of getting out of this. “Gonna need…to pee soon.”

Ramin turns and frowns at me. “Forty-five minutes. We cannot stop. I am sorry.”

Well, that sucks. But he leans closer to the driver and tells him to go faster, then starts texting someone. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on his phone.

“Wherever…we’re going…” I say, purposely slurring my words and closing my eyes, “there better be a bathroom. You…have no idea…how often…pregnant women need to pee.”

* * *

By the time the van coasts to a stop, everything hurts. My contractions—and I’m sure they are contractions now—are fifteen minutes apart. How much longer do I have? Four hours? Less?

I lied earlier about needing to pee, but when Ramin lifts me to my feet, I regret drinking that entire bottle of water.

“Please let me go,” I whimper as the side door to the van slides open and a beam of sunlight slices into the dim interior. “You don’t need me anymore.”

“Your husband will not give himself up if we do not show him proof of life,” Ramin says. He’s almost apologetic. “Mashaal, if Holloway or Richards move, shoot them in the kneecaps. Hadi, Malik, and Wadid will help you secure them in the bunker. I need Jalal to help me with Mrs. McCabe.”

“Don’t separate us!” I cry. “Please!”

We haven’t been allowed to talk. I’m not sure Ripper’s even lucid. But they’re my only connection to anything right now, and I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to them and to me.

“You do not want to see what comes next,” Ramin says softly. “I swear to you, as long as your husband gives himself up to us, by the end of today, this will all be nothing but an unpleasant memory.”

Jalal takes one arm, Ramin the other, and they muscle me out of the van.

“Dax! Ripper!”

“Tell Evianna…” Dax says, but then Mashaal whips him across the face with his pistol.

Panic tightens in my chest. I can’t see them anymore. Or hear them. Only the wind whipping around us. This used to be a parking lot, but huge clumps of grass and weeds are growing up through cracks in the asphalt.

My legs are wobbly, but Ramin and Jalal keep me upright as we make our way through rusty metal gates. Within a minute, we’re surrounded by cracked, mossy concrete, the massive structures in eerie disrepair.

Down a long set of stairs, they pause outside a narrow opening. “Take her to the toilet, then lock her in the second bunker,” Ramin says. “Bring her food, water, and a blanket. She should not be made to suffer.” He turns to me. “I am sorry for this. But you will be home soon. Do not worry.”

Jalal pushes me into the shadowy passageway before I can respond. It’s so narrow, he can’t stay at my side, but instead makes me shuffle ahead of him. It’s a maze. A right turn, then a left, then another left. The overhead lights flicker and buzz, and though I’ve never believed in ghosts, I’m sure this place is haunted.

“How much farther?” I ask, slumping against the wall when I can’t hold myself up any longer.

“Not far,” he says softly. He’s smaller than Ramin. Weaker.

If I have any hope of escaping, I have to do it before we get to the bunker. Before I’m “locked up” somewhere no one will ever find me.

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