Page 8 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

AVA

T he 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.”

The kid at the desk pushes a plastic keycard toward me. “Room 108. Check out at eleven tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks.” I force a small smile, grabbing the keycard and leading Eli back outside. The chill bites deeper now, but we’re only a few doors down from the office. Eli stays pressed tight against me until we’re inside the room.

The air inside smells stale, like old cigarettes and mildew. Eli doesn’t seem to notice or care, immediately climbing onto the sagging floral bedspread. He kicks off his shoes, curls into a ball, and within seconds, his breathing deepens into sleep.

I drop our bags on the floor. My eyes sting from exhaustion and fear.

The reality of our situation hits harder now.

If Morales is operating off the grid, there’s no government assistance coming.

No six months of prepaid cards like last time.

No safety net at all. Just me, Eli, and a wallet dangerously close to empty.

I glance at the bedside table, noticing the ancient phone sitting silently next to a broken alarm clock. Morales said to use a landline to avoid any chance of Randy tracking us. I punch in the number with trembling hands. The line rings twice before Morales answers. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” I whisper, voice barely steady. “We’re here.”

“Good.” His voice is calm, in control, the opposite of how I feel right now. “Are you and Eli safe?”

“For now,” I answer honestly, glancing at Eli’s peaceful face. “But I don’t know how long. Is someone coming?”

“Yes,” Morales assures me quickly. “I called in a favor. I have a team coming. Three men. Military trained, off-grid. They’ll protect you and get you safely out of there. Trust them.”

I close my eyes, gripping the phone so it aches. Trust doesn’t come easily for me, especially right now. But Morales has never let me down. “You’re sure they’re safe?”

“They’re the only people I trust implicitly,” he repeats firmly. “Stay vigilant. They’ll find you soon.”

“Okay,” I murmur, desperate for reassurance. “Morales, please don’t let them take too long.”

“They’re already moving,” he says. “Stay alert. And Ava—keep Eli safe.”

“I will,” I promise quietly. The line goes dead, leaving silence pressing in on all sides. The phone feels heavier now as I set it back into place.

I move to the window, pulling aside the flimsy curtain to stare into the darkness outside. The parking lot is still deserted, but every shadow feels threatening, every sound suspicious. My heart pounds loudly, fear settling deeper in my chest with every passing second.

Turning back, I cross the room, double-checking the locks on the door. They’re flimsy, barely enough to keep out a strong breeze, let alone Randy’s men. I shiver again, dread pooling coldly in my gut. We’re trapped here, completely vulnerable, dependent on three strangers I don’t even know.

Eli murmurs in his sleep, and I force myself to breathe deeply, fighting back tears. I can’t lose control. Not now, when he needs me most. He trusts me completely and believes I’ll always keep him safe. It’s both comforting and terrifying.

I pace restlessly, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. Every sound outside makes me jump. The creaking of floorboards overhead, the distant sound of a car passing on the highway, and even the drip of water from the bathroom faucet set my nerves on edge.

Minutes drag by agonizingly. The silence feels oppressive now, the wait torturous. I can’t help but wonder what if Morales’s men don’t come in time? What if Randy finds us first?

Anxiety spikes, and I press my palms into my eyes, willing myself to calm down. Panic won’t help now. It won’t protect Eli. I need to stay alert, ready to act.

I walk back to Eli’s bed, adjusting the covers around him. My throat tightens again, but I swallow it down. He’s my strength, my reason for everything. No matter what it takes, I have to keep him safe.

Another noise startles me from outside. It’s closer this time, footsteps crunching softly on gravel. My heart leaps into my throat, pulse racing wildly. I move to the dresser, frantically searching for anything I can use as a weapon, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

A shadow crosses in front of our window, the silhouette lingering. My muscles tense painfully, every instinct screaming to protect Eli. I grip the edge of the dresser until my knuckles turn white, watching and waiting for whatever comes next.