Angi Morgan - Navy SEAL Surrender

Nothing in the room would slide in front of the door. Nothing to use for protection. Just a mattress on the floor and plastic blocks in the corner. Tory heard determined footsteps heading their direction. She braced herself against the thin door.

Silence.

Click.

The bastard had locked her in with their prisoner, and her cell was in her purse in the kitchen.

“I’ll take care of the money arrangements, Tory. You manage the runt,” he shouted through the wood. “And you ain’t going to work no more. I ain’t no babysitter.”

She allowed Lauren to crawl in her lap, hugging the little girl close. This wasn’t the plan.

Lauren tugged on Tory’s shirtfront to get her attention. “How long is Mommy going to be gone? I don’t like it here.”

“Me neither, sweetie. Me neither.”

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