Navy SEAL Surrender by Angi Morgan Read Free Book Online Page A

door. Nothing to use for protection. Just a mattress on the floor and plastic blocks in the corner. Tory heard determined footsteps heading their direction. She braced herself against the thin door.
    Silence.
    Click.
    The bastard had locked her in with their prisoner, and her cell was in her purse in the kitchen.
    “I’ll take care of the money arrangements, Tory. You manage the runt,” he shouted through the wood. “And you ain’t going to work no more. I ain’t no babysitter.”
    She allowed Lauren to crawl in her lap, hugging the little girl close. This wasn’t the plan.
    Lauren tugged on Tory’s shirtfront to get her attention. “How long is Mommy going to be gone? I don’t like it here.”
    “Me neither, sweetie. Me neither.”

Chapter Seven
    The dilapidated barn stall still held the smell of manure after years of nonuse. Alicia was hot, sticky and had no intention of lying under the cover of the sleeping bag, until Johnny reminded her rat snakes loved barns. The horrible creatures could actually climb into the rafters and wait. So, of course, she couldn’t close her eyes and was stuck searching the decaying wooden beams.
    “You just had to mention snakes,” she complained, hearing him actually laugh.
    “You ever going to sleep?”
    She noticed the flick of an LED watch from his direction.
    “What time is it?”
    “Twenty-three minutes after the last time you asked,” he mumbled.
    He sounded muffled, maybe facedown with his mouth pushed into his muscles. Johnny wasn’t worried about the nasty snakes that bit when they were provoked. He’d never been afraid and had constantly irritated the cold-blooded things when they were younger.
    “Are you sure we can’t sleep outside? It’s sweltering in here.” She tossed the bag off her, keeping the zippered end only over her bare feet. “There’s absolutely no breeze.”
    “I was only teasing about the snakes, you know.” His clear, rich voice came from slightly higher, like he was raised on his elbows.
    He was bare chested, just like he’d been when she’d arrived at the Double Bar earlier that afternoon. The memory of his sculpted muscles sent her thoughts in a wild direction. She chased her thoughts back to slithering, long things hanging above her.
    Snakes were a safer subject to concentrate on. The cold eating machines weren’t nearly as likeable as a man who had promised to find Lauren.
    “The thought of snakes isn’t really what’s bothering me. I’m letting my mind fixate on it so I don’t think about other things.” Lots of other things.
    “Like?” he asked, sounding resigned they were talking in the dark instead of sleeping.
    “Lauren’s been gone less than a week and I feel so alone. Every part of me aches.”
    “I’d be worried if it didn’t. You’ve taken an emotional beating. Hurting’s a lot better than feeling nothing at all,” he said softly.
    “Is that what you feel? Nothing?”
    “Me? Negative. I’m confused more than anything.”
    She heard the slick of the nylon rustling, gave up and looked at him. The crescent moon still spilled enough light to see a few old wounds on his shoulder. He sat, one arm wrapped around a knee that he’d brought close to his chest.
    “Confused? I don’t understand. You were very decisive ordering me what to pack and what to do. I witnessed exactly what your dad is always telling me. How you’re such an in-charge leader and all.”
    “My dad?” He drew his brows together, a permanent crease between them now that hadn’t been there in his teens.
    “Yeah. I mean, he’d tell me before the stroke.”
    He stretched his back by raising his arms above his head.
    Goodness, he had muscles on top of muscle. There couldn’t be an inch of fat on him anywhere. She couldn’t watch and looked out the door to the star-studded sky.
    “Did you spend a lot of time with Dad?” he asked, settling back against the stall post.
    She sat, leaning on the wall opposite him. “Sure. J.W. and Brian