Page 7 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
We reach the car, and I nearly stumble in my haste to open the door. Eli climbs obediently into his booster seat, confusion and concern clouding his bright blue eyes.
“Did something happen, Mommy?” he asks, picking at the hem of his shirt nervously.
“No, baby, Mommy just remembered we have some important things to do at home, okay?” I try to keep my voice calm and reassuring. He doesn’t deserve to be scared, to have hisinnocence stripped away so abruptly. He nods silently, still unsure but trusting me completely. It breaks my heart.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I lock the doors immediately, my hands trembling as I start the car. The men in suits remain exactly where they were, still looking for us, their expressions unreadable but terrifying in their stillness. My breath comes faster as I reverse out of the parking spot, fingers gripping the wheel so my knuckles ache.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I guide the car onto the main road, eyes flicking repeatedly to the rearview mirror. So far, we’re not being followed, but that offers little comfort. Randy’s men aren’t amateurs. They’ll be careful and calculating. Just like him. If anyone notices us and can give a description, they’ll be after us soon enough.
I glance back at Eli in the mirror. He’s staring out the window, holding onto his apple, his small face creased with worry. Guilt gnaws painfully at my heart. He deserves better than a life of running and constantly looking over his shoulder. I promised him safety, promised myself I’d never let him know fear the way I had. Now, that promise feels empty, slipping helplessly through my fingers.
The road stretches endlessly ahead of me, lined with trees whose leaves are beginning to turn golden and crimson. It’s beautiful and peaceful, a stark contrast to the terror swirling violently inside me. Every mile closer to our cabin feels agonizingly slow, every moment ticking by heightening my anxiety.
“Mommy?” Eli speaks from the back seat, breaking the tense silence. “Are you sad?”
His question makes my chest tighten painfully. I take a deep breath, forcing my voice steady before answering. “No, sweetie, Mommy’s just thinking. Everything’s fine.”
He nods, but his eyes are unsure, still worried. My heart aches fiercely, longing to comfort him, reassure him that everything will truly be fine, even though I have no idea if that’s the truth.
I glance in the rearview mirror again, half-expecting to see someone trailing us, but the road remains empty. Still, the unease won’t lift, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Randy won’t stop. He’ll pursue us relentlessly, and this time I might not be able to get away.
The trees blur together as I press the accelerator harder, urgency clawing at my throat. I need to call Morales as soon as we get home. Maybe he can fix this, find some way to protect us before it’s too late. Maybe the men in suits are just coincidental, strangers who have nothing to do with Randy.
I keep my eyes locked on the road, mind frantically turning over possibilities, escape routes, and plans for keeping Eli safe. Every second counts now. Every decision I make could mean life or death, safety or catastrophe. Eli remains quiet, sensing my anxiety but unable to fully understand. My grip tightens on the wheel, knuckles white with tension.
I glance behind us once more, still seeing nothing. But the fear won’t subside, lingering like a dark, suffocating cloud.
“I promise, baby,” I whisper to Eli, more to myself than to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
But the words feel hollow as the road winds on, uncertainty gnawing deeper into my heart with every mile closer to home.
We finally arrive home. My fingers tremble as I dial Morales’s number, the phone pressed against my ear. Every ring feels like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner with each passing second.
“Ava?” Morales answers abruptly, the sound of his voice an odd comfort despite the tension humming through me.
“Morales, I saw some men in town,” I say, my voice shaky. “Suits. I don’t know for sure, but I feel like Randy found us. We’re not safe here.”
“Okay.” His voice turns sharp, focused, like it always does when things get serious. “Listen closely. I need you to write down my personal number. Do you have a pen?”
I scramble for the pad and pen by the kitchen counter, clutching the phone so my fingers ache. “Yes, ready.”
He rattles off a series of numbers, repeating them twice to ensure I’ve got it. I scribble, my hands trembling, barely managing to keep the digits legible.
“Got it,” I breathe, scanning the numbers before shoving the paper deep into my pocket.
“Good. Now, Ava, I need you to listen. You’re going to go to a small town at the edge of Pennsylvania. This crosses the threshold that I’m authorized to help, but we do it my way. I’ll text you the name and exact location as soon as we hang up. When you get there, call me on a payphone. Do not, under any circumstances, use your cell phone after this call. Write the address down, and then leave it behind.”
The instruction sends a sharp jolt of anxiety through my chest. “Leave my phone? But what if?—”
“No buts,” Morales interrupts firmly. “Randy has resources. Your phone is compromised, I guarantee it. I’ll call in some favors, pull together a team I trust, but you need to move now. Immediately.”
I swallow hard, eyes darting toward Eli’s closed bedroom door. He’s playing inside, oblivious to the chaos unfolding just beyond. My stomach twists painfully. “Okay. We’ll leave right away.”
Morales hesitates, his voice lowering with a hint of urgency. “Stay safe, Ava. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
The line clicks dead, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. For a moment, I stand frozen, heart hammering in my chest, dread pooling deep in my gut. It feels like five years ago, escaping under the cover of night, driven by fear and desperation. Except this time, it isn’t just me. Eli’s innocence, his happiness, is at stake.
Pulling myself together, I shove the phone aside, taking a deep breath before moving swiftly toward Eli’s room. He’s sprawled out on his bed, flipping through a book, humming to himself.
