Page 93 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
Without waiting for a response, Randy turns on his heel, slamming the door closed behind him with a loud, echoing bang. Silence fills the small, dingy office, broken only by Eli’s quiet sobs. My heart fractures, aching as I watch him struggle with fear and confusion no child should ever face.
I take a deep, steadying breath, mind racing for a plan. “Eli, sweetheart, listen to Mommy, okay? Can you do me a favor? See if you can help Mommy get out of these ropes.”
Eli sniffles, nodding as he moves closer. He reaches for the ropes, small fingers fumbling as he tugs and pulls. To my relief,the knots were tied hastily, loose enough for Eli’s persistent efforts to pay off quickly. Within moments, I feel the ropes fall free, blood rushing back into my aching wrists.
“Thank you, Eli,” I whisper fiercely, gathering him into a tight, comforting embrace. “You were so brave and strong. Mommy’s proud of you.”
Standing, I search the room frantically for anything to defend us with, eyes landing finally on a small metal paperweight sitting innocently on the desk. I grip it firmly in my hand, heart pounding urgently. Turning back toward Eli, I crouch down, voice sturdy despite my fear.
“Eli, listen, okay? Mommy needs you to be very brave again. When I say run, you run straight out that door. Keep running until you find a way out. No matter what happens, no matter where Mommy is, you don’t stop. You keep running. Your daddies will find you. I promise.”
Eli’s eyes widen, frightened but determined. He nods resolutely. “Okay, Mommy.”
Standing in front of Eli, I close my eyes, praying silently, fury blazing fiercely in my heart. Randy’s cruelty ends today. No matter what it costs me, he will never harm my son.
But before I can finish my thought, the sudden sounds of chaos erupt from outside the room—voices shouting urgently, doors slamming, footsteps pounding loudly down hallways. Hope sparks brightly within me. I don’t know what’s happening, but now is the perfect chance.
“Eli, it’s time to run—now!”
The door swings violently open just as Eli bolts for the exit. Randy steps inside furiously, eyes wild as he lunges toward Eli’s retreating figure. My voice breaks urgently.
“Run, Eli! Keep going!”
Eli slips swiftly through Randy’s grasp, darting out the open doorway and disappearing down the hall. Randy spins around, enraged, face twisted in fury. He pulls a weapon from his waistband, holding it threateningly in my direction.
“You stupid, worthless woman,” Randy snarls viciously, stepping closer. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”
Panic spikes in my chest, but I refuse to cower. Breathing deeply, I steel myself, determination steadying my shaking limbs. “This ends here, Randy. You don’t get to control us anymore.”
A cruel smile twists Randy’s mouth, his finger tightening visibly on the trigger. “Oh, it will end, Ava. For you, anyway.”
In a desperate surge of courage, I throw myself toward Randy just as he raises the gun to aim. We collide forcefully, tumbling hard onto the office floor, grappling wildly. The gun fires suddenly, the sound deafening, echoing through the confined space.
I freeze, heart stopping as I feel something warm seep rapidly into my clothes. Terror floods me—but then I realize I feel no pain. Confusion grips me briefly before I scramble backward, realizing the warmth spreading across my chest isn’t mine. Randy’s eyes stare blankly upward, the gunshot having struck him directly in the chest.
For a long, frozen moment, I remain motionless, breathing raggedly. Realization sinks into me. Randy is completely still.My heart races with wild disbelief, relief rushing through me so strongly I nearly collapse from the weight of it.
I’m free. It’s finally over.
But I can’t allow myself to stop moving yet. Eli is still out there, waiting for me, scared and alone. I shove to my feet, pulse racing, adrenaline driving me urgently forward.
I run into the hallway with reckless abandon, determined to find my son and never let him go again.
38
JAX
The air smells like smoke and dust, and I'd like nothing more than to get the hell out of here. I glance toward Cole and Liam, both men moving with precise, fluid movements honed over years of mastering their skills. Together we move seamlessly, a perfect unit operating on instinct and determination alone.
A sudden movement flashes in my peripheral vision, and I pivot on instinct, my body responding to years of rigorous training. A shadowy figure rushes toward me, and without hesitation, I brace myself, dodging smoothly to the side. The assailant stumbles forward, thrown off balance, and I take advantage of his vulnerability.
My fist connects with his abdomen, and I can hear the punch knocking the breath from his lungs. He doubles over with a gasp, and I finish with a precise blow to the back of his neck. He collapses onto the floor, out cold, and I don’t spare him another glance.
“Clear,” I call, voice steady and controlled.
Liam acknowledges with a brisk nod, dispatching another assailant of his own in a similarly efficient manner. Cole steps neatly around another man’s wild swing, his expression calm, almost bored, as he neatly incapacitates him. The three of us press forward, movements perfectly synchronized, each step taking us closer to our goal and closer to Ava and Eli.
“Where the fuck is she?” Cole growls, frustration briefly edging into his voice. He grabs the collar of one of the fallen men, forcing him roughly upright. “Speak.”
