Page 74 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

The rest are of my daughter’s face and how worried she must be right now. How I trust the guys to make sure she’s safe.

And then, I’m trying not to throw up again.

By the time we land, my joints ache. Hours? Half the night? I can’t tell. But it is dark. Wind howls in the opening of the cargo bay, ruffling my pants. A pair of strong hands hoists me up on my ass.

I struggle against the grip lifting me under the arms, shoving back with my feet, even though they feel like cement scraping against rebar. It doesn’t stop the guy from jostling me out.

Lowered to the ground, a fresh, salty wind hits me in the side of the face and makes me squint. Someone cuts my ankles loose so that I can stand on my own—not that the restraining grip on my arms retreats.

Edmund is there with two other men. He’s rubbing the back of one thumb with the other as he watches me, and he looks half as sick as I feel. “Just do what they say, and they won’t hurt you.”

I glare at him with full accusation, and I know that sheepish glint in his eyes. He didn’t want me to get involved. No one did, but I insisted that I follow through with what I found. And you know what? Fuck him for bringing this shit into my workplace.

I’m so tired of people blaming me for their mistakes. For their flaws.

I lunge for him, but I’m pulled back quickly.

Edmund swallows hard and looks away as if he could read half of my thoughts.

I’m dragged across rocky dirt and grass. There’s little light, but I can hear the ocean. Its salty marine scent is fishier than the lakes back home.

There’s a tunnel in the ground, waiting for us to slip below the surface.

I need to fight to get back to Reese.

With my legs free, I don’t make it easy on the guy holding me, but all of my effort barely slows our progress. Underground, I’m escorted through tunnels and do my best to keep my orientation. Left, left, right, left… How many rooms do they file me through? Five? Six? There are more people than I expected. Their gazes distract me from other important details that I should be noting.

But I feel like I did when Alistair had his parties. Like everyone is watching me, calculating how to take a piece out of me without anyone noticing. Or at the least, caring.

When men are in a crowd like this, they’re more willing to share as long as they get their taste.

At the end of a hall, I catch the glimpse of the dark ocean and starlight. There’s no easy way out of this place.

I’m pulled to a stumbling stop in front of the person who is in charge. If not from the respectful way people move around him or the low murmurs they speak to him in, the air of cold power that surrounds him is enough to scare me.

He doesn’t look like a killer. He looks young, like he should have just graduated college before starting his corporate job. His tan skin has a healthy glow, and his face is freshly shaved. The tight curl of his hair frames his eyes.

But his gaze slices through me like a blade.

It takes all of my energy not to fall into a bottomless pit of panic as the man inspects me. After a moment, he nods, and I’m shoved forward into a bare room with two bunks. There are no windows, no bathroom, and nobody else there.

I wobble down onto the edge of one bunk and take deep breaths until the threat of complete overload fades.

I can only hope that the guys will find me.

What clues were left behind when I was taken? Is it enough for my SEALs to figure out what happened and where I am?

Is my cell still on? Rhett would know how to track that, even if just for a direction. I’ve seen some of the stuff they can dig up on a dime.

Oh, God. Please be able to find me before I find out their plans for me.

Nausea barrels down on me again, and I curl up on the bed. It smells of dirt and ocean and sweat, but it’s more comfortable than the floor in the cargo bay of the Short C-23 Sherpa. After a wave of ick passes, I wiggle my hands under my butt and slowly down my legs until I have my hands in front of me.

It’s a small comfort to be able to press my forearms into my stomach. It would be better to wrap my arms around myself more fully, but I’ll take what I can get.

The low light in the room lets me doze as the adrenaline wears off. My head is foggy, and I curl in on myself as what feels like days go by.

I have to survive this. I have to get back to Reese. If anyone can find me, it’s Sterling, Jack, and Rhett.

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