Page 69 of Rescuing Josiah
Risky or not, she had to make a move.
Bunching her muscles in preparation for what she was about to do, Chelsea shifted her hold on Bridget enough that she could both push the girl away from her mother and fling herself toward Desiree all at the same time.
“Family really is everything, and I don’t think there’s a person alive who can know for certain what lengths they would go to in order to save the people they love,” she said softly, and when Desiree’s shocked gaze met hers, Chelsea sprang into action. “Bridget, run!” she shouted as she launched herself forward.
Right as she moved, a deafening shot cracked through the night.
Chapter
Nineteen
May 18th
1:31 A.M.
Where the hell was she?
Josiah stared from the empty closet to the scattered piles of sheets, blankets, pillows, and towels. There was nowhere else she could be and yet his mind seemed to refuse to accept that.
She was supposed to be there.
She’d promised she’d be there.
It was practically the last words he’d spoken to her.
Yet she was nowhere to be seen.
A horrifying thought seeped into his mind, and barely aware of the shouting voices of the SEAL team, he took off at a dead run to the room he’d shared with Chelsea. Just an hour ago he was lying in bed, her warm, soft body snuggled against his side, not hating the idea of being married to her anywhere near as much as he should.
She could have been …
No.
He couldn’t allow himself to think it.
And yet … the alarm in Dr. Gant’s room had gone off less than fifteen minutes after he’d left their room. Fifteen minutes was the agreed-upon time for Chelsea to sneak out and hide in the linen closet.
Which meant she could have still been in the room when the guards had fired those shots.
If she were dead, he was going to rain down punishment on this ring the likes they couldn’t even comprehend.
Flinging open the door, his gaze drove straight toward the bed. She couldn’t be lying dead there, bleeding out like his team had. He couldn’t lose another person he cared about.
Couldn’t.
Was as simple as that.
There was no lump in the bed that indicated a body beneath the covers. He scanned the room because Chelsea shouldn’t have been in the bed anyway when the door was opened and a shot fired.
But there was no body anywhere in the room.
No puddles of blood.
Nothing.
It appeared empty.
If Chelsea had heard the shots, maybe she’d had time to hide before they’d come into the room. Running for the bathroom, he threw on the lights, scanned the room, but it was empty too.
