Intense

She was right. It was my fault.

I never meant for this girl to get mixed up in any of this. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of myself, or at least the person I used to be. Back before all the training, before my mother died, I was just another Midwestern kid trying to live my life.

Now I was an international terrorist hunter, and I wouldn’t have it any other fucking way.

But I wasn’t about to let Tara and Mason down. We hadn’t talked much about him, since the pressing issue of a dangerous terrorist coming for them was a little more important, but he was never far from the back of my mind. Mason was my son, that was for sure, and whether or not I ever planned on having children didn’t matter anymore.

I was a father.

But first, I was a SEAL.

I moved out, cutting across her lawn. I was determined to sweep the area again, maybe see if I couldn’t smoke out Omar on my own.

7

Tara

I felt like my whole body was ringing as Emory left the house.

I couldn’t believe a word he had told me. Apparently I was the target of some incredibly dangerous international terrorist from Pakistan, and I had even met him just the day before.

This was all so unreal. I sat down on the couch and began to take deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

There were a few things that pointed toward his story being true. First, there was the fact that I couldn’t find Emory no matter what I tried. It was totally possible that he really was a SEAL and the government really did protect his identity.

Next, there was the fact that he described the man I’d met almost perfectly. Plus, I’d been feeling strange lately, like someone was watching me. Maybe that was because someone really was watching me; I just couldn’t see who it was.

Finally, there was the way Emory had brought us back to the house, that winding, strange path. It was clearly a way to make it difficult for someone to follow us, though why that mattered was beyond me. They already knew where I lived.

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.