Page 78 of Her Forever SEAL

Her head jerked up when the door opened. A tall, light-skinned Black man walked in. He was wearing a blue suit. A really nice suit. He had white shoes. Who wore white shoes? Another man followed him, and it was clear he was just a helper. Not muscle.

White-shoe-guy pulled up a chair. She hadn’t noticed it before. The helper stood behind him and to the side.

She opened her mouth to say something, and that was when she realized she was gagged. How had she not noticed that before?

He looked at her for a long moment before he spoke. His English was precise and careful and slightly formal. Kayla was pretty sure he was African.

“I'm going to tell you something,” he said, “and you're going to listen, because there's nothing else for you to do right now.”

She glared at him. Because she could do that.

“Your father,” he said, “is not who you think he is.”

She felt her jaw tighten against the gag.

“I know what you think. You think he's a hero. You've been told that your entire life. The uniform, the medals, the stories.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

“That makes you angry.”

Kayla didn’t bother to nod. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want to tell you about my brother, Kofi. We were orphans. It was my job to look after him. But he was young. He was easily swayed. He made choices that were… unfortunate. I was working to get him out. I thought I had him convinced…”

He looked down at the floor.

Kayla, for just a moment, could feel his pain. He’d been the older sibling. Trying to help his younger brother. Then the man looked up again, his glance harsh.

“But before Kofi could leave, your father took that away from him. He led a team that butchered him. Never even gave him a chance to surrender. He wasn’t a man. Barely older than you.”

Kayla stared at him so hard her eyes burned.

Liar, she thought, with every part of herself that was capable of thinking.

“I don't expect you to believe me,” the man said, as if he'd heard her. “You're fourteen years old and he's your father and the world is still simple for you.” He sat back. “It won't be for much longer.”

Then he stood, he straightened his jacket, and he walked back out through the heavy door, his helper following him.

Kayla stared after them.

She spent the next five minutes examining the zip ties. Unless she could find something to cut them, she was screwed. Time to start thinking, then start moving. Hell, maybe she could be like Bree and find a cell phone.

She pulled up everything she remembered from that tour. Cat had been bored and trying to make her laugh, but Kayla had actually listened to parts of it because she'd been interested despite herself. The tour guide in the burgundy polo had explained the layout. The vineyard, the crush pad where the grapes were processed, the barrel room where the wine aged, and then the tasting room where people came to drink it and buy bottles to take home.

The barrel room was always adjacent to the tasting room.

Always, the tour guide had said. It was part of the experience. You walked through the barrels, you understood the process, and then you emerged into the tasting room and the whole thing made sense.

Which meant the tasting room was close. So Fancy Shoe Guy came from the tasting room. And in the tasting room, there might be people. People who could help.

She looked at the door. She wasn't getting through that door with her wrists and ankles tied and her body still shaking from the cold.

But noise traveled.

She looked up at the ceiling. At the walls. At the gap under the door—thin, but there. She looked at the barrels around her and thought about what was inside them and wondered if a barrel rolling across a stone floor made enough sound to bring someone running.

She thought it probably did.

She looked at the nearest barrel rack. At the angle of the barrels. At the physics of what would happen if she managed to get to her feet, which was going to be painful with her ankles tied but not impossible, and worked her way along the rack until she reached the end barrel on the bottom row.