Page 67 of Nanny for the Firefighters
Her fingers trail lightly over my arm. "Go to sleep," she whispers. "I promise I'll leave you somewhere no one will ever find you."
Panic surges through me. I can't let this happen. I think of my baby, of the life growing inside me. I can't give up now. But my body feels heavy, my eyelids drooping despite my best efforts to stay awake.
"Don't worry," Vanessa continues, her voice almost soothing. "It won't take long. You'll drift off, and then… well, then, you'll be nothing but a memory."
I struggle against the ropes, but it's no use. The sedative still courses through my veins, making my movements sluggish and weak. Desperation claws at me, but my strength is fading fast.
Vanessa leans back, satisfied. "Sleep well, Verity Vixen," she murmurs, her voice the last thing I hear as the darkness closes in.
As my vision fades, I feel a single tear slide down my cheek. My mind races with thoughts of the baby, of the life we might have had together. And then, there is nothing but the cold, empty void.
31
ELLA
The warehouse is dank. The cement walls look wet, the floor cold, and the thin mattress I'm lying on doesn't keep it at bay. The scents of seaweed, fish, and salt could mean I'm anywhere along the coast. I huff and roll onto my side, nausea roiling in my stomach. Even though I'm past my first trimester, the morning sickness hasn't fully gone away, and stress makes it worse.
My head spins, and I try not to panic over whatever I was dosed with to knock me out.
Please don't have any adverse affects on my baby. Please let her be alright. I swear I will get revenge for this. Separating me from my men, my support group, my family. Making me hurt the people I love. Forcing me away from the father of my unborn child, just when I'd craved their involvement. Threatening me with exposure when I help others who need it. Drugging me is simply going too far.
Vanessa has pushed me past my limit.
But the longer I sit with my wrists and ankles bound, the longer no one comes to check on or taunt me, the more hopeless I feel.
I struggle to keep my eyes open, hoping that sleep can cut the time I'm actually here in half, that it can be my escape from this solitary torture. Muscles cramp in my shoulders and back, in my hips and knees and ankles.
Gnawing eats away at my stomach, and I have no way to count the hours I've been kept here.
My mind replays the last words I said to my men—not my men. Not anymore. I stifle back a sob as I picture their faces, crestfallen and heartbroken. I couldn't tell them at the time, but it's exactly how I felt, too. Maybe I should have just let Vanessa expose me, let them know my complete truth.
Why didn't I trust them with this? They'd probably have offered to help me, and as loathe as I am to admit it, help is what I need now.
No one is going to sweep in and save me from my stupid mistakes. I made my choices, and they led me here. I can't go back.
Tears blur my vision, and I sink onto my side, letting the worn fabric of the mattress beneath me soak up my tears. All of it was so stupid. A sob hiccups out of my throat, and I can't keep it at bay anymore.
A warm hand comes down on my shoulder, smoothing down into my hair and making me jump.
"Shh. Shh, it's all right."
I blink in confusion because I swear that's Marcus's voice. Finally, the tears clear enough that my giant firefighter captain is indeed bent over me, spreading his warm touch down my back.
"Shh. We've got you."
"Marcus?" My voice cracks, and the way he smiles down at me makes me sob even harder.
In an instant, my binds are cut free, and Marcus has me fully in his grasp. Encased in his arms, I let the release take over, slowly draining everything away but the relief that he found me. That they found me.
When he sets me back on my own weight, he fusses and looks me over. I peer behind him at Theo, Will, and Ethan. All of them share the same worry and relief at seeing me that I feel seeing them.
"How did you know" —my voice breaks and trembles— "where to find me? That I needed found?"
Will raises his hand for a small waggling wave. "I may or may not have been keeping track of your phone. And a friend of ours managed to uncover your alternate identity a while back— it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together from there." The way his cheeks and neck burn bright red makes him look so much younger and innocent.
"We were worried about you," Theo supplies. "You weren't acting like you."
Ethan just looks at me with his hands in his pockets, patient, like he's been waiting for me this entire time to figure out what a dipshit I was being. Yeah, Ethan, you may be right, but I don't have to admit that aloud. At least, not right now, I don't.