Page 41 of Rescuing Josiah
Lying in bed counting seconds made it almost impossible to pretend she was sleeping.
But what else was she supposed to do?
Josiah’s wake-up call that their temporary home was about to be invaded by strangers had her on edge. So far, Chelsea hadn't really had to do anything particularly dangerous. Pretending to be dying in a doctor’s office surrounded by people where the doctor couldn’t make a move was easy enough. Everytime they’d left the hospital, she’d known Alpha Team was keeping watch, same as they were tonight.
They just suddenly felt very far away.
“Relax, Chels.” Josiah’s warm breath puffed against her forehead, soothing her a little. “You got this.”
“Okay,” she whispered back. He was right, she had insisted that she was capable of being part of this operation without becoming a liability, and she was going to prove him right. It was just that she didn't like the idea of the men roughing up Josiah. She didn't want him hurt, he’d already been hurt more than enough to last a hundred lifetimes.
Sounds outside the bedroom had her forcing all negative thoughts from her mind, clearing it and allowing deep breaths to relax out the tension in her muscles. All they had to do was play along, and soon they’d make contact with Desiree Tilly, then this would all be over, and all her friends could move on and nurture their fledgling relationships.
“Good girl,” Josiah murmured, tucking her tighter against him.
His muscular body beneath hers was strong and sturdy, dependable, and his promise to protect her filled her mind. Together, they could make this work and bring down the trafficking ring.
Evening out her breathing, she added in a slight snore, none too soon because bright light and loud shouts suddenly filled the bedroom.
If ever there was a time to jump all in to her character, this was it.
“Josiah!” she screamed, jerking upright as he bounded from the bed, placing himself between her and the intruders. In one smooth movement, he’d grabbed his weapon, which he now held pointed at the four men. Chelsea knew he could have dropped all four of them already if he wanted to. Well, he did want to, buthe knew he couldn’t if they were going to enact their plan, so he simply held the unwavering weapon, three others pointed right back at him.
“It’s okay, Mr. Fleet, we’re friends not foes.” The only man not holding a gun spoke calmly, like he regularly broke into people’s bedrooms in the middle of the night.
“You're in my bedroom without an invitation, that makes you a foe,” Josiah spoke, his voice low and deadly.
“A little unorthodox perhaps, but due to the nature of our business, I'm sure you can understand why such steps must be taken to ensure all of our safety,” the man said.
“Wh-what’s going on?” she asked, clutching the blankets tightly around herself, mostly to act afraid, but also partly because shewasafraid. Instead of letting that fear consume her, Chelsea harnessed it, making it work for her benefit.
“Mrs. Fleet, we were sent by Dr. Wood. He has a potential match for you, which means it’s time for you to take the next step.” The man nodded at his armed guards, who approached the bed somewhat cautiously, obviously having been briefed on who Josiah was and what he was capable of.
“D-Dr W-Wood sent y-you?” she stammered.
“Yes, Ma’am,” the man replied.
“And you h-have a m-match for me?” she asked on a sob, that wasn't really all that hard to fake.
“We’re almost positive we do, Ma’am, so please understand that we need your cooperation.” Although his voice had never wavered, the man did cast a slight, concerned glance Josiah’s way.
He hadn't moved yet, a steady, armed presence between her and the others, and Chelsea knew that acting or not, he wouldn't move until she gave him the okay.
Crawling on the bed, hating that she’d chosen to wear these tiny sleep shorts and tank top that gave these men a pretty goodview of her body, Chelsea crawled across the mattress and laid a hand on Josiah’s arm.
“We have to listen to them,” she murmured, blocking out the way the men’s gazes roamed her body, making her feel dirty and violated. “This is what we were hoping for. A chance to save my life.”
“No one is going to hurt your wife, Mr. Fleet. Not unless you do something that can't be taken back.”
Slowly, Josiah lowered his weapon so it was no longer pointed at the intruders.
“Very good,” the man praised. “Now toss the gun onto the floor.”
Although she knew it cost him, Josiah did as he was ordered.
The second the weapon was out of his hand, the three armed men were on them. Two grabbed at Josiah, wrangling his much larger body between them, while the third came and gripped her bicep in a punishing hold Chelsea had no doubt would leave bruises.
They were both dragged downstairs to the living room, where the men must have set up two chairs before they came upstairs. Josiah was roughly shoved into one, metal cuffs used to secure his wrists to the chair’s arms, and she knew it was only because he let them that the men managed to get them on him.
