Page 74 of SEAL of Valor

Panicking won’t get us out of here. It’ll only make it harder to think rationally. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before taking another.

Lord, be with us. Please, God. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t be.” He releases me, then crosses over toward the hole again. Then, he steps away and surveys the container. I do the same, following his gaze and noting a blinking red light in the top corner.

We’re being watched. Fantastic.

Weston pulls me back into his arms, then drops his face so his mouth is right beside my ear. “They’re watching and listening, so we need to be careful what we say,” he whispers so low I can barely hear it. “I have a plan. Do you trust me, Reese?”

“Yes,” my answer comes so quickly I’m sure it surprises both of us.

“Then trust me to get you out.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

Weston pulls away and moves toward the side of the container, where he takes a seat, then lies back against the metal floor, using one arm to prop his head up.

I follow, sitting right beside him. His eyes remain closed, so I take a few moments to study him, trying to figure out exactly what he might be thinking, but right now, all I see is a man trying to rest. Is that the whole point? Get sleep so we’re ready to fight when those doors open?

And how am I supposed to help? Won’t I just be in the way?

Tears burn in my eyes. What is my mom thinking right now? Is she safe now that they’ve got what they want?

“I wanted to kill the old lady.” What if Max goes after her anyway?

A hand grips mine, and I look down as Weston threads his fingers through mine. His eye is still swollen, the other black and bloodshot. There are bruises all over his muscled torso, and while I can’t see all of them right now, thanks to the minimal light, I know they’re there.

Evidence of all he’s suffered in the last twenty-four hours.

“Rest, Reese,” he tells me.

I hesitate only a moment, then pull my hand free so I can lie down beside him and rest my head on his chest like I’ve done countless times before. Then, we were barely more than kids with an entire lifetime together ahead of us. And now? Who knows how long we have?

He wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds me close.

And as I lie here, I try to picture us anywhere but a storage container about to head out to sea. Maybe we can be back at his cabin, happily married, while our kids sleep soundly in their beds.

With that picture in my mind, and the truth that even in this dark moment, God is still with us, I let myself drift.

“Reese, wake up, but don’t move.” Weston’s whispered voice pulls me out of sleep, and when I open my eyes, the container is completely dark.

“Weston?”

“Right here.” He briefly tightens his hold to let me know he’s there. His body is warm beneath my ear—too warm. Fear shoves the rest of the sleep aside.

“You’re hot, Weston.”

He laughs softly, his chest vibrating beneath my ear. “It’s been a while since you told me that.”

“No, temperature—you have a fever.” His skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat that I can feel against my own. Still, I don’t move.

“I know. There’s a good amount of pain in my side, too, but we need to focus.”

Pain. For him to be complaining—how bad is it?

“What do we need to focus on?” I whisper back.