Page 40 of Defended By the SEAL
“I thought I’d lost you,” Grams whispered, her voice breaking.
Tom leaned into her touch, his own tears shining in his eyes. “You’ll never lose me,” he said, his voice raw but full of emotion. “I’ll always come back, I promise.”
But Charlotte hadn’t moved from where she sat, and barely gave Tom and Grams any mind.
Sarkisyan wasn’t after the refugees. They were small potatoes to his overall operation. While she didn’t doubt he’d come here to make an example of Grams and Tom, his intentions had changed when he got here. She was sure of it. That much was set in stone the moment she and Leo knocked on the front door.
There had to be more to it. Something she wasn’t seeing, not unlike the secret passageway beneath the lighthouse, used to store refugees and bomb making chemicals.
Bomb-fucking-making chemicals.
That was it! The bottle that had broken and led them to the refugees. The smell that lingered in the lighthouse basement was one she’d smelled before in Cowboy’s workshop.As an explosives expert for the Navy SEALs and an eight-year-old boy at heart, he was known to dabble in a little recreational bomb making every now and then, if only for the sheer joy of blowing things up.
Pushing herself to a stand, she crossed and checked on Cowboy, who still appeared to be down for the count. She rested her hand on his forehead. He was warm, which was a good sign. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Sarkisyan she’d considered going to nursing school, though her math grades were at the top of her class.
Leaning down, she kissed Leo softly where her hand had just been, loving the scent of his skin and the peace that spread through her body when he was close to her. She’d been drawn to nursing because she was a natural nurturer, but she’d chosen not to become a nurse because she wanted to learn how to shine for who she was, rather than for what she could do for others.
And she would never apologize for that to anyone.
“Grams, where do the tunnels under the lighthouse go?”
Tom had his arm around her, and Grams was positively glowing with happiness. “Across the west side of the property to the bay harbor on the other side of the island.”
“How far away is that?” she asked.
“Not far. Maybe half a mile. Why?”
“And how long have you been harboring refugees escaping from the PFP?”
“Years and years.” Grams looked at the ceiling. “Maybe fifteen, twenty. Ever since Tom asked us. Your grandfather and I agreed to help.”
“So it’s possible Sarkisyan found out about what you were doing long before now.”
Austin shifted his weight and crossed his arms over hismassive chest, his eyes narrowing. “What are you suggesting?”
“There are bomb making chemicals in the room beneath the lighthouse. I think Sarkisyan is planning to blow it up when the governor’s here for the 200thanniversary.” She watched as Tom and Grams’s matching expressions sobered. “And if I had to guess, he’s planning on framing the two of you… for all of it.”
Tom and Grams exchanged horrified glances, their initial reunion glow quickly giving way to grim understanding.
“That bastard,” Tom muttered, his jaw tightening. He pulled Grams closer, his protective instincts as clear as his fury. “Loretta, if he’s planning what Charlotte thinks he is, this could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”
Grams’s face crumpled, her hands trembling. “We’ve helped so many people… Tom, what if he—what if Sarkisyan kills those poor souls just to prove a point?”
Tom shook his head, his gray beard glinting in the firelight. “We won’t let that happen.”
Charlotte’s heart ached watching them, two people who had risked so much, their lives built on quiet, steadfast courage. But there wasn’t time to dwell on emotions. Every second they stood there, Sarkisyan moved closer to his goal.
Tom took a deep breath. “If Sarkisyan’s been operating on this island, he’s probably using the tunnels.”
Grams turned to Charlotte, her voice thick with guilt. “I never wanted you to know about any of this. Your grandfather and I only got involved because of Tom. He came to us after he left the PFP, swearing to make up for the harm Sarkisyan caused. We started small—helping people flee quietly—but when the camps grew worse, we couldn’t just stand by.”
Tom’s eyes softened as he looked at Grams. “Loretta and your grandfather were the only ones who believed I could make things right. They risked everything to help me. And when your grandfather passed, she carried on without hesitation. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
Charlotte felt a lump rise in her throat but quickly swallowed it down. “Grams, you’re amazing. Both of you are. But if we don’t stop Sarkisyan, everything you’ve done could be used against you. This can easily be twisted so that you two look like the terrorists.”
Tom frowned. “There’s an old cache point we used years ago, further along the tunnel toward the bay. It hasn’t been touched in ages, but if he’s been watching us, he might know about it. That may be how he’s getting supplies into the lighthouse.”
“Let’s go,” Austin said, already heading for the door.
