Page 12 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
“Messy or not, we’re doing it,” I state firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “The woman and child are innocent. They didn’t ask for this. We see it through. No mistakes.”
“Understood,” Cole responds steadily, voice deep and unwavering. He’s a fortress, reliable and unflinching. Exactly what we need.
Jax taps his finger on the table, restless energy simmering beneath his careful exterior. “What's our approach, Liam?”
“Minimal exposure,” I reply immediately, strategy taking shape rapidly in my mind. “We'll drive in, discreetly acquire the targets, and exit quickly. Night extraction. Avoid main roads. Once clear, we’ll establish safe passage west.”
Jax nods decisively. “And the kid? Civilian extractions with children aren’t exactly textbook. I mean, when was the last time any of us actually were even near a kid anyway?”
My gaze meets his squarely, voice firm. “We adapt. Whatever Eli needs, we provide. No question. No hesitation.”
Both men nod, their trust in my judgment absolute. I rely on them implicitly. Together, we've navigated missions no sane person would attempt. This one will be no different.
“We leave immediately,” I order calmly, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Get your gear. Weapons discreet, medical supplies ready. We plan for every contingency.”
Cole and Jax move, the warehouse humming with focused activity. I watch them, confidence settling deeply inside me. Morales entrusted us with a dangerous, delicate mission, and I won’t betray that trust. Ava and Eli are innocent, caught in a violent storm not of their making.
Failure isn’t an option. Not now, not ever. I’ll get them out alive, even if it’s the last damn thing I do.
5
AVA
The neon sign outside the motel flickers weakly, washing Eli’s sleeping face in an unsettling shade of blue. It’s after eleven now, and the parking lot is deserted except for a rusty pickup truck parked diagonally across two spaces. I twist the key from the ignition and sit for a minute, just breathing through the exhaustion burning my eyes.
The motel Morales sent us to isn’t exactly comforting—or clean.. With peeling paint and curtains that look older than I am, it’s the last place I’d want Eli staying tonight. But choices are a luxury we lost the moment Randy walked free.
Taking a deep breath, I turn in my seat and reach into the back, shaking Eli’s small shoulder. “Hey buddy, wake up.”
He groans, burrowing deeper into his teddy bear. “Do we have to?”
“Yeah, we do,” I say, rubbing his back. “Just for tonight, okay?”
Eli yawns deeply, reluctantly sitting up and blinking into the darkness. “I’m tired.”
“I know, baby. But we have to get checked in, and then you can sleep as long as you want.”
He sighs but nods, clutching his teddy bear to his chest again. I grab the duffel bag and the half-empty bag of snacks, and then we climb out of the car. The chilly air hits hard, sending a shiver down my spine. Eli immediately tucks himself against my side, yawning again.
The gravel crunches under our feet as we cross the empty lot. A bell jingles softly when I push the motel office door open. The guy behind the desk doesn’t look up from his phone at first. He’s young, probably still in high school, with greasy blond hair falling into his eyes.
“Hi,” I say, stepping forward. “We need a room for tonight.”
He glances up lazily, eyes flicking over Eli and then settling on me. “One night?”
“Yes, please.”
“Cash or card?”
“Cash.” I swallow back my anxiety, pulling my wallet from the duffel and counting out the bills. My heart sinks watching my cash dip below four hundred dollars. It’s not much, especially since I won’t be finishing the commission that would have given us enough money for months. My art supplies, everything except a sketchbook and some colored pencils I share with Eli, are sitting in the cabin we’ll probably never see again.
“Fifty-eight bucks,” the boy mumbles, sliding a receipt across the desk. “Sign this.”
I sign, forcing myself not to think about the dwindling numbers in my wallet. Eli tugs on my sleeve.
“Mommy, can we sleep now?”
“Almost,” I whisper back, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Just a minute.”
