Second Chance SEAL(152)

And in that moment, I realized that I believed him. I believed what he had told me and I believed that I really was in danger.

That realization sent a bolt of terror through my spine.

Mason and my mom. They were walking around the park, the last place I ran into Omar.

I stood up and ran out the door. I didn’t see Emory anywhere as I looked around frantically. I gave up after a second and practically sprinted to the park, not caring that I probably looked like a crazy person.

I burst onto the blacktop of the walking path and looked around. They were nowhere in sight. Panic was welling up in my chest.

What if Omar Hooth had my son and my mother? Would he kill them or just hold them ransom?

No, I couldn’t think that way. I just couldn’t let myself start thinking of the worst. Mom and Mason were fine. I just had to find them.

I started walking, looking everywhere. I walked fast, not trying to draw more attention to myself than I already had, but I probably looked like a crazy person. My heart was racing in my chest and fear was icing up my legs, but the thought of someone hurting my baby or my mother kept me moving forward.

I rounded the corner, headed toward the jungle gym, and there they were. Mom had Mason in her arms, a bottle in his mouth, sitting on a bench facing the swings.

I practically ran over to her. “Mom!” I called out.

She turned and smiled. “Hi, sweetie,” she said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, a little out of breath as I stopped in front of her.

“Of course I am. Are you?”

“I’m fine. Just ran over here.”

She cocked her head at me like I was a crazy person. “Why would you do that? I watch Mason all the time. Did something happen?”

“No. Well, yes, but no. Everything is okay.”

She looked at me like I had just sprouted an extra head, which wasn’t too far from the truth. “Okay. Well, I just saw your friend Emory. He seemed nice.”

I blinked. “Emory was here?”

“Well, he just walked by and waved.” She smiled at me. “Is it him, Tara? Is he the father?”

I sighed and looked away. Emory had checked up on my mom and Mason already. That man was so frustrating, and I was terrified of what was happening with him, but I suddenly felt incredibly grateful.

He wasn’t just thinking of me. He was thinking of my mother and our child. Whoever he was, he at least meant well, or so I hoped.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go back. I have to tell you and Dad something.”

She nodded. “Okay, sweetie. Let me finish feeding Mason and then we’ll head back together.”

I stood impatiently while my mother finished feeding Mason. I wanted to get out of the open area as soon as possible.

She finished up and I took Mason, putting him into the stroller. We walked back together, chatting aimlessly about work and school. Dad would be home shortly, and I was going to have to tell them then.

I was going to have to tell them that their daughter was wanted by an international terrorist.

I didn’t know if this was the right thing to do or not. Emory hadn’t explicitly told me not to, although he did make it clear that people weren’t supposed to know. Still, these were my parents, and they were involved as well.

They had to know, I decided. I didn’t care what Emory wanted. This was my family and my decision.

Once we were finally back inside the house, I took Mason upstairs while Mom started on a late lunch. I heard Dad’s car pull into the driveway while I rocked Mason, getting him ready for his nap.

“You’ll be okay,” I said to him, “perfectly okay. Daddy is here and we’ll be okay.”

I wasn’t worried about Mason being afraid. He was too young to be scared. I was saying these things for myself, and I knew it.

Finally, Mason seemed tired and on the verge of sleeping. Very carefully, I transferred him down into the crib. I made sure he didn’t wake up before sneaking out and heading back downstairs.

Dad was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked into the kitchen. He was a big man, portly, partially balding, with a big smile and a bigger heart. Dad was basically the nicest man I’d ever met, and everyone he knew agreed with me.

“Well look who it is,” he said. “The prodigal daughter returned.”

“Hi, Dad,” I said. I sat down at the table across from him.

“Your mom says you have something very important to tell us.”

Looking at Dad in that moment, I felt a stab of panic.

How could I tell these people and expect them to really believe me? Truthfully, I barely believed it myself. It was without a doubt the most insane thing I had ever heard, let alone believed.

And the more I let it stew, the more I believed it. He hadn’t really shown me any proof, but there was something about Emory that made me intuitively trust him.