Page 19 of The Ranger (Black Hawke Security #5)

SCARLETT

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T he door bangs open , and my head flicks up. I’m dizzy, and bright light burns my eyes.

Holding my arm in front, I try to scramble to my feet, but it’s difficult. My limbs are cold and aching, and I’m not that mobile being so close to giving birth.

I’m hungry, dehydrated and scared out of my wits.

Two men walk in, talking a foreign language.

It sounds Asian, but I don’t know.

Staying crouched, even though I’m in absolute pain, I tremble and wonder if talking to them is a bad move or my only chance.

One of them heads my way, yelling something at me.

“Please let me go. I’m pregnant.” I whimper.

He tosses a paper bag at me, and it plops on the floor beside me. I smell it before I can work out what it is. It’s fast food of some kind.

I almost vomit.

Suddenly, a kind of self-preservation kicks in, and I climb to my feet, and start screaming at them.

“I need real food. Water. I am eight months pregnant, you fucking monsters. Let me go!”

One of the men laughs and lifts his gun, pointing it at my head. I freeze. Enjoying this, he lowers it to my belly.

Oh, my fucking god.

I cover my baby, as if that would help, and scramble back against a wall, sobbing.

The gun drops.

Shuddering, I watch them talk to one another rapidly, laughing, and then their conversation turns angry. I still can’t understand them, so I stay pressed against the wall and hope they leave me alone again.

The gun wavers and points my way, then they fight, and it drops.

Oh, my god.

I close my eyes and pray.

Finally, the room is quiet, and I peel my eyes open to find myself still alive and the men gone. Sobbing, I stay there for a long time, my mouth dry and body starting to go into a state of hunger.

The baby.

I drag myself along the floor to the food bag. Inside is a bottle of water and a cold burger and fries. Fumbling, I open the water and drink it way too fast, much of it pouring down the front of me. That only makes me colder.

I realize I’m wasting it and try to slow down.

Oh god, I’m going to die here.

Using all my willpower, I eat the horrible junk food that Cole would tell me is going to kill our child, slowly. Bite by bite.

I close my eyes, calm my body and pretend that we are sitting on the sofa together. His feet are on the coffee table, his large, solid frame pressed against mine, and I can almost smell his sexy musky scent.

Cole.

He wraps an arm around me in my vision, and I lay my head on his chest while he tells me he’ll always look after me. That we’ll be together forever.

I must be dreaming because the baby is in my arms, and we’re both staring down into its beautiful face.

Large blue eyes stare back at us with long, thick dark lashes. In my daze, I try to decipher if it’s a boy or girl and can’t.

Do I know instinctually?

I keep thinking I do, but every day I jump between it being a boy or girl.

The girls at work have a bet going, which of course Cole joined. I told him he didn’t qualify, but they all sided with him.

God, I miss him.

If I make it out of this alive, I’m going to tell him I love him. I don’t care anymore.

Wait...I love him?

Fucking kidnappers, how dare they do this to me! I was doing just fine pretending I didn’t care about him or us or this entire thing.

No, you weren’t.

Great, now I’m having an argument with myself.

I hiccup and pop another cold fry into my mouth and almost gag.

Hang in there, my sweet baby.

I am not giving up; Cole will find us.

More tears fall down my face as I chew another cold and fatty potato. When I feel the baby move, I break down into tears.

Oh, thank god, she’s okay.

For now.

( She=today’s guess. )