Page 108 of SEAL's Promise

Stunned realization hit Rachelle. “You own the human trafficking organization?”

Hale’s smug expression returned. “The perfect way to feed my addiction, wouldn’t you say?”

Disgusting man. “What happens now?”

“We wait for your boyfriend and his friends to figure out where you are and ride to the rescue. If they haven’t located you by tomorrow night, you’ll call Taylor in my presence. Once they arrive, I’ll end my problems once and for all.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Rachelle glared at Black eyes as he forced her to the basement stairs. When she jerked against his hold, he tightened his grip on her arm and scowled.

“Knock it off.”

“Or what?” she snapped, tired of being treated like a sack of potatoes and dragged from one place to another.

“I can knock you out again.”

She lowered her head and walked as though defeated. She didn’t want to be incapacitated again. An escape from the mansion would mean a chance to contact Cal and prevent his team from walking into an ambush.

“If you behave, I might bring you food tomorrow.”

Jerk. She didn’t react, refusing to give him a response.

At the bottom of the stairs, Black eyes shoved a key in the lock of a door and twisted. He pushed her inside the cavernous space toward an interior door. Unlocking the second door, Black eyes shoved her inside without following. “Scream all you want. With these thick walls, no one will hear. Besides, no one who wants to live will help you. Take a nap or something.”

With that insulting comment, Black eyes closed and locked the door, leaving Rachelle in the dimly-lit room.

She looked around her small prison. Large plastic storage bins were stacked along three of the four cement walls. On the fourth wall, free-standing utility shelves held cleaning supplies. High on the wall was a window.

She frowned at the odd placement. Curious, she found boxes light enough to scoot under the window.

Rachelle climbed on top of the boxes and peered out the window. Satisfaction filled her when she realized the ground wasn’t far from the window sill.

The room appeared to be on the side of the house. A stand of trees was near. Stretching, she could reach the window lock.

Although she longed to run now, doing so with this much light would be foolhardy. If they caught her, she’d be restrained or knocked out again. When full dark fell, she’d escape and warn Cal and the others. Too bad she didn’t have her phone. She’d checked on the jet. They must have taken it from her when they transported her from the Rocking M.

Rachelle descended her makeshift ladder and sat on the floor with her back against the wall to wait for nightfall.

When the sun had set, she climbed to the window again. This side of the house was poorly lit with no visible guards. Hale must have them, though. Where were they?

She reached for the lock and hesitated. What if the windows had alarms? She’d bring Black eyes down here in a hurry. Rachelle flipped the latch and raised the window two inches.

She listened for an alarm or a shout and running feet. Nothing. After a minute, Rachelle believed she was safe for the moment.

She dropped her watch to the ground. Time to leave. After she was safe, she’d figure out a way to get word to Cal. She checked one more time for anyone passing close to the basement. Still no one around. Excellent. Rachelle pushed the window up all the way, hoisted herself up and over the sill, and rolled to the ground.

Scrambling into a crouch, she hugged the wall and scanned the area. No guards in evidence yet. At that moment, clouds blocked the moon’s rays. Now or never.

Rising, she crept to the corner of the house, ducking under windows as she went. She paused, peering around the corner and barely stopped a gasp as she spotted a guard standing at the other corner with his back to her. Oh, man. Not good.

While she debated what to do, another man at the front of the house hailed the guard near her. He looked to his left and abandoned his post to talk to the other man. Rachelle ran for the trees, expecting a bullet in her back or a football tackle to prevent her escape. But no one stopped her. Unable to believe she’d escaped notice, she hurried into the wooded area, doing her best to move like Cal and avoid sounding like a rampaging elephant stomping in the tree-covered strip of land.

Conscious that a clock ticked down the time until Black eyes discovered she’d escaped, Rachelle moved as fast as she dared. Although she wanted to run, the moonlight wasn’t enough illumination to see all the tree roots and depressions in the earth in those shadow-drenched places the light didn’t reach. She couldn’t afford injuries.

She picked her way through the brush and trees, angling away from the airstrip. At a distant shout, Rachelle spun, straining to listen. More shouts. No gunfire. One of the guards must have discovered her escape, and this wooded area was the obvious place to look.

She plunged ahead, her pace faster. If Black eyes recaptured her, she would end up back in Hale’s hands. The Under Secretary would make sure she didn’t escape a second time.

---