Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 10) (11 page)

My baby. My baby is dead.

A doctor stepped into her view, face grim, eyes filled with sympathy. He looked from the monitor to her, and she knew it was true. Her baby was gone. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, taking her hand in his.

Shock and grief collided inside her, crushing her heart and lungs. She couldn’t breathe.

Another vicious pain hit her. Around her she could hear the staff moving, could hear their voices, but it still took a few moments for her to absorb what they were saying. What it meant.

She was still going to have to deliver her dead baby.

Time passed in a disorienting blur of pain and unreality. They finally gave her something for the pain, just enough to take the edge off, and promised it wouldn’t be long now. The doctor and two nurses stayed with her the entire time, holding her hand, wiping away her tears and sweat, encouraging her and supporting her as best they could.

It wasn’t enough.

Adam, I can’t do this without you
, she thought frantically, feeling like she was about to shatter into a thousand pieces
. I can’t go through this without you.

But she had no choice.

It took another hellish six hours for the dry labor to run its course. Five more agonizing hours of contractions, followed by one hour of pushing.

“Just one more,” the doctor said from his position between her open thighs at the end of the table.

A fiery pain burned all around her vaginal opening, like someone held a blowtorch to her tautly stretched flesh. Gritting her teeth, she gathered her remaining strength and pushed with all her might.

Her legs shook in the nurses’ grip, every muscle straining. A strangled scream of mingled rage and pain tore free. She barely felt the tears flowing down her temples and dripping into her hair.

The baby popped free and the pain ceased instantly.

She dropped back to the table, exhausted, shaking all over. And God help her, she was too afraid to look. She couldn’t bear to see her dead child.

Her stomach twisted. She gagged and turned her head to the side, where a nurse immediately held a stainless steel bowl beneath her. Nothing came up.

When the dry heaves finished, she collapsed back against the clammy pillow. One shaking hand came up to cover her eyes as her face crumpled.

“Do you want to hold him?” the doctor asked quietly.

Him? A little boy?

Fresh tears bubbled up. The physical pain was over but she knew the emotional pain had just begun.

She dropped her hand, her gaze unerringly going to the tiny figure wrapped in the blanket the doctor held.
My baby.
My poor baby.

Sitting up, heedless of the blood or the nurses trying to clean her up, she automatically reached for her son, desperate to hold him.

The doctor placed him in her arms. Instinct had her cradling him tight to her chest, against her heart. Oh, God, he was so tiny. Way too tiny. Fragile.

She bit her lip, feeling like she was crumbling apart inside.
Why?
Why had God done this to her? To her child?

She made herself pull the edge of the blanket back to see his little face. A funny sound shot out of her. A high-pitched cry of grief and denial.

Adam James. A.J. for short. That’s what they had chosen for a boy’s name.

And he was…God, he was perfect she thought with another spasm of grief. His little nose was perfect, his skin wrinkled and red. All his little fingers and toes were there; he even had little nails forming.

A tear landed on his cheek. She carefully wiped it away, devastated.

Had he suffered? Had he been afraid? He should still be safely tucked inside her, giving her those wonderful little flutters and kicks.

The nursery had been painted, the crib all set up. She’d grown so used to rubbing her belly and talking to him all the time, eagerly anticipating his arrival in the spring and the moment when she finally held him in her arms.

Not the way she was holding him now. Never that. How was she supposed to go on now?

Another nurse came in, stood by her bed with a phone in her hand. “I’ve got your husband on the line,” she said softly. “Do you want to talk to him?”

She stared at the nurse.
Adam? He knew?
The thought of hearing his voice right now was more than she could bear.

Summer curled tighter around her baby and shook her head as the heartbroken sobs she’d been holding back finally broke free. She didn’t want to talk to Adam. Didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She couldn’t bear this. Didn’t know how to deal with this searing pain, this horrible emptiness.

The nurse was murmuring to someone in the background, but the words didn’t register, or the fact that it might be Adam on the other end of the phone.

“He’s heading to the airport right now,” the nurse told her a few moments later. “He said he’ll be on the first flight back. He said to tell you he’s sorry and that he loves you, and he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

Summer turned away, curling onto her side with her dead son held tight in her arms. Not caring about anything right now, she didn’t answer. She was too lost, too devastated to even comprehend this loss or how she was going to survive it.

All she could do was cradle A.J. to her breast and grieve, alone. It was her fault. Her body hadn’t been able to sustain or protect him, yet she’d selfishly gone ahead with the IVF treatments anyway. And he’d paid the ultimate price for it.

Summer bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, welcoming the pain. God, when she thought of this precious little being tucked inside her just a little while ago, relying on her to protect and take care of him…

A hot knife of pain sliced through her. She broke. Felt herself split apart.

Harsh, ugly sobs racked her. She couldn’t stop, was inconsolable. Her son. She couldn’t let him go. They would come and take him from her soon. How was she supposed to let him go?

She cradled him and vented her grief, her guilt. I’m so sorry, little A.J., please forgive me. So very sorry…

Present day

When the pilot announced they’d be landing in Amman in a few minutes, Taya stood up to stretch her stiff back briefly before buckling back into her seatbelt. The injuries she’d sustained in Afghanistan normally didn’t bother her much anymore, but sitting in one position for too long made her lower and upper back ache.

It felt like forever since she’d left D.C. She and Maya had spent the first half of the flight to London chatting about their experiences overseas. Maya was surprisingly open about it, but then, so was she.

By the time they’d reached London, they’d forged an intimate bond. There’d been no response from Nathan yet, so she knew he was likely out on the hunt somewhere. For Summer’s sake, Taya hoped they found the hostages before she got there.

This second leg of the journey to Amman had seemed to take forever, probably because Taya was both dreading being there but looking forward to seeing Nathan.

When the plane parked at the gate, Maya turned to her and arched a dark eyebrow. “Ready?”

She nodded, checked her phone and found a message from Nathan, sent a few hours ago.

Sorry, we were busy for a while. I’ll be at the airport when you arrive. Can’t wait to see you!

“Nathan’s here,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. “Let’s do this.”

Anticipation swirled inside her. It had only been six days since she’d last seen Nathan but she’d missed him like crazy, and seeing him would go a long way to dispel her lingering fears about being here and dredging up all the ugly memories she’d been working so hard to move past.

Maya went up the jet bridge first. Taya followed close behind her, her heart beating faster as they made their way toward the waiting area at the gate. As soon as they turned the corner she spotted Nathan, standing right next to the podium with Tuck.

Everything else faded into the background as she drank him in: tall, his dark auburn hair raked back from his forehead and the start of a reddish beard covering his face.

A big smile split his face and he started toward her. Grinning like a lunatic, she rushed for him and flew straight into his arms.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, hugging her tight. The feel of his embrace lifted the weight of dread she’d been carrying around from the moment she’d agreed to come here. Then he kissed her and she couldn’t think at all until he pulled back.

“Hi,” she breathed back, tucking her face into the curve of his neck. God, he smelled good.

He kissed the top of her head and leaned back to look at her, his hazel eyes warm as he cupped the side of her face in one big hand. “Flights were okay?”

“Great. And Agent Thatcher was great company,” she said, looking over at Maya, who stood watching them by the entrance to the jet bridge. She couldn’t believe how much they had in common. “Her husband’s a PJ, so I thought you might know him.”

His gaze sharpened with interest as he eyed the female agent. “That right?”

Maya nodded. “Jackson Thatcher.”

Nathan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No way! I know him, he was a few months ahead of me in the pipeline. Is he still in?”

“Yep, he’s stationed at Bagram right now. I’ll tell him we met.”

“Please do.” He shook Maya’s hand. “Thanks for escorting my girl over here.”

“It was my pleasure.” Maya turned to her, her eyes full of understanding. “I meant what I said. You ever want to talk about anything, just give me a call.”

“I will.” Taya looked over at Tuck, who was waiting patiently by the podium, scanning the crowd of people milling about, always vigilant. She felt safer already with the two of them here. “Hey, big guy. This is from your wife.” She walked over and hugged him.

He chuckled against the top of her head and returned the embrace. “Thanks for that.”

“Welcome.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Okay. Now get me to that meeting.” She was anxious to get started.

Nathan took her carryon bag and laced his fingers through hers. “Everybody’s waiting to get down to business.”

“Understandable. I just hope I can help. Any new developments while I was on my way over here?”

“Unfortunately no,” he said. “Blackwell’s going out of his mind.”

“I can imagine,” she murmured, feeling awful for him, but more for Summer.

At the hotel Maya left them to go to her own room and Taya went with Nathan up to the eighth floor. “Tuck’s rooming with Blackwell now, so you can stay with me,” he said as they stepped off the elevator. “It’s not usual procedure and I may get called out at a moment’s notice, but I thought it would be easier on you this way.”

She nudged his hip. “And it had nothing whatsoever to do with you wanting me in your bed at night,” she teased.

A grin quirked his lips. “Well, not gonna lie, it’s a definite perk…”

She took five minutes to freshen up. When she came out of the bathroom he was waiting for her by the door. “They’re waiting downstairs,” he said, and framed her face in his hands. “You sure you’re up to this?” he asked, searching her eyes.

The concern in his eyes warmed her to her toes. “I’m sure. But thanks for caring.” She lifted up and kissed him. “Let’s do this.”

She walked past him out into the hall, and came to an abrupt halt when she saw Adam sitting there against the wall. He rose at once, his piercing blue gaze locked on her.

His haggard appearance shocked her. She’d never seen him like this, all disheveled and drawn.

He looked exhausted, his expression pinched with strain and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. “Adam, hi,” she said softly, hating that he was hurting like this. Nathan stepped up behind her, put a comforting hand on her waist.

“Hi.” Adam stuffed his hands in his pockets and she wanted to hug him but stayed put. “I just wanted to come by before the briefing to personally thank you for coming here. I know it couldn’t have been easy. I really appreciate it.”

She shook her head, overcome with the need to reassure him, make it all okay. But the only way she could do that is if they found Summer in time. The demons Taya faced here were only psychological and emotional—mere memories of what she’d endured. The ones Summer faced were far more immediate and dangerous.

Maybe even lethal. They
had
to find her, soon.

“Don’t thank me for that.” Taya had no evidence to base it on, but her gut feeling was that Summer’s captor didn’t plan to sell her or gift her to another fighter. No, she was worried that Summer’s fate would be much, much worse if they didn’t find and free her before it was too late. “I’m going to do whatever I can to help find Summer,” she told him.

Adam nodded, and the grief and worry in his eyes made her heart ache. His fear was warranted though. From the little Celida and Maya had told her about the ATB member who’d kidnapped Summer, Taya knew the odds of finding her alive were small. Because from the sounds of it, Tarek Hadad was even more brutal and sadistic than Qureshi had been.

And that meant they had no time to lose.

****

Two years ago

All the lights were off again and it was barely past suppertime. Adam knew exactly what that meant and his heart sank like a rock.

He sighed and turned off his truck’s engine, then sat there in the garage as the engine pinged and cooled. He didn’t want to go in there because he knew what he’d find and he was so fucking exhausted right now he didn’t know if he had the strength to deal with it.

The miscarriage had hit Summer hard. Really hard.

He understood that she’d needed time to grieve afterward. He even understood why she resented him for not being there when it had happened.

But he barely recognized his wife these days. Sometimes she couldn’t get out of bed at all, which was totally unlike her. And sometimes she wound up leaving work early and came home to lock herself in their bedroom.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, telling himself to suck it up. She was hurting, dropping fast into a mental and emotional tailspin he couldn’t protect her from. He couldn’t go back in time and undo what was done and he wanted to help her. It was just that he didn’t know how anymore.