“Are you sure you’re okay, that you’ll be all right tonight?” he asked. He was studying her, and she knew that in order to get them to leave, she had to convince this man, her husband’s best friend, that she was fine. After all, his wife had convinced him otherwise, and he was listening to her. She swallowed, keeping her arms firmly across her chest.
“You know what? Let’s take this one day at a time. I feel good, and I know you’re right next door. If I need you, I’ll call you. Really, I’m good.” She wanted to say she appreciated all Mary-Margaret’s help, but the fact was she couldn’t get that bald-faced lie past her lips.
Joe exchanged another look with his wife, who shrugged and didn’t look too happy. “We could always take the kids tonight,” she said to her husband.
Abby wondered if all the color had drained from her face. She was about to stammer and plead as she felt desperation squeezing her chest. God, this truly was a nightmare. She felt her jaw stiffen, and Joe must have noticed her hurt look. There was no way to hide it.
“You want to take my children now?” she said, feeling a fire spark inside her.
Instantly, Mary-Margaret’s face softened. “That’s not what I meant, Abby,” she started. Joe was watching her.
“Go home, please,” Abby said quite sharply. “My children are fine.” She actually stepped around Joe and opened the door. She held it open and refused to look at them. Joe set his hand on Abby’s shoulder until she looked up at him, and his face softened.
“Abby, we care about you. We’re worried about you. Eric asked us to watch over you and your family. We love you and the kids. We just want to make sure everyone’s okay.”
She held his gaze. “We’re good. Thanks, Joe, but I’m getting tired, and I’m sure Charlie is going to want to nurse soon.”
Joe hesitated only a second and extended his hand to Mary-Margaret. His wife was still watching Abby when she let out a sigh and then left. Joe followed, and he turned before Abby shut the door. “Call us, please, if anything happens or you need someone to talk to.”
“I will,” she said. She let out a breath that she hoped didn’t sound too much like the relief it was.
“We’ll come over in the morning,” Joe said before Abby closed the door.
She set her hand against the solid wood and just breathed in and out, listening to their footsteps as they discussed something. She wondered if Mary-Margaret was going on and on about her. She hoped they didn’t come back, but she knew all too well they’d be here tomorrow, in a few hours, to inspect and check and… she wanted to weep. Her mind was racing from Joe and Mary-Margaret. She wondered how quickly Joe reported her behavior, relaying everything she’d done tonight to Eric. Her husband should have been talking to her. It was then she became aware of the silence and the ticking clock, the strangeness of the night. Her mind drifted to the man in the mall, the familiarity. “Stop it, Abby,” she muttered and turned around, leaning her back against the door.
The stress of hiding everything for so long was starting to tear her apart. She could feel her nerves, likes screws, beginning to slip as if there weren’t much holding her together. Every moment of the day starting sifting through her brain, the images, and she was still spooked from that afternoon at the mall, when her eyes had locked on to that man who looked so much like the monster who had owned her and was, in fact, Rachel’s father. She had played it over and over in her head while pretending to nap. Could he really be here, looking for her? She wondered who else had been in her house. It was beginning to take on an aura of invasion.
Seyed had said he’d never let her go. She was his, he owned her, and he’d beat that into her over and over and over again. She also knew the man would kill her without blinking an eye, anything to torture her and hurt her as she’d hurt him. A surge of icy water raced through her veins as she smelled the innocence of her children. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt them, but what would he do with them—anything, nothing? She didn’t know.
“It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him.” She said it over and over again.
The phone ringing made her shriek, and she slapped her hand to her mouth and swallowed as her heart raced in her chest. It rang again. She glanced at the desktop in the corner where she Skyped with Eric. Of course it was him calling. He must have received his report from Joe, and now he was ready to talk to her.
She hurried to the desk and clicked on Answer, her hand trembling. Eric’s face popped onto the screen. “Hey, baby, how are you?”
“I’m good. Sorry, out of breath. Ran to answer before you woke the kids.” She pasted on a smile that hurt her face and stifled the urge to look over her shoulder as the hairs whispered up the back of her neck.
“Are you alone?” he asked. She knew why he was asking, as she could see concern on his face.
“I’m fine, Eric. I don’t need a babysitter. The kids are fine, too. Joe and Mary-Margaret just left. I guess you haven’t talked to Joe yet,” she said, taking in the lines on his handsome face, his blue eyes that had always anchored her. She could feel the distance between them. She wanted to touch him but couldn’t, so she squeezed her hand in her lap so Eric couldn’t see.
“Abby, maybe you should take the kids and stay with Joe and Mary-Margaret for a while. I’d feel better.”
“No, Eric. For one, I’m fine, and they don’t have room. They’re crammed in tight with their three. They don’t have room for us. Before you say anything about Mary-Margaret staying here, she had to go home. Her family needs her, and I need some rest, some peace and quiet.”
Being watched the way she was, night and day, having to tiptoe around someone in her house, not having space and always being asked how she was doing… it had all started to make her feel trapped, and she couldn’t tell Eric any of that. She felt as if Joe and Mary-Margaret had poisoned Eric, telling him what a horrible person she was. She didn’t know what to do, who to trust, and Eric wasn’t there. He was on the other side of the world in another war zone, and she didn’t know exactly where because he couldn’t tell her. She hated herself for worrying him, and her heart ached that he depended on Joe and Mary-Margaret to step in when she was more than capable. She didn’t like him worrying, either. She needed him to focus on his job so he’d come home safe.
“Eric, please, I need you to focus on yourself so you can stay safe and come home to us. I need you. Rachel needs you, and so does Charlie. Tell me, how is it going?”
He studied her a second through the screen and wiped his face. “Abby, you hide things from me.”
“Of course. That’s what us wives are supposed to do so you don’t worry, but I’m okay, I promise,” she said.
Eric frowned, and he jabbed his index finger toward the screen. “You don’t hide things, or I’ll worry. If something’s wrong, tell me. Call Joe and Mary-Margaret right away.”
“Okay,” she said. The hell with that. She had no intention of calling his friends, but she wasn’t about to tell Eric that, either, or he’d be calling them and sending them over. For the first time in days, she felt as if she could almost breathe.
A uniformed man appeared behind Eric on his screen. “Excuse me, sir?” He said something in a low voice Abby couldn’t make out.
“Abby, I’ve got to go. Duty calls. Listen, babe, I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay,” she said, but Eric had already gone.
Abby pressed the button to turn off the screen. She felt the pressure behind her again, and she still couldn’t shake her sense of being watched. She felt her shoulders tighten and her muscles bunch as she slowly turned around, her heart pounding, worried about what she’d see. She almost wept with relief when no one was there. She sagged, feeling so much like an old woman, and then crammed her fist to her mouth to stifle her sob, struggling to pull herself together. Dammit, she was furious with Eric and his friends for doing this to her. It had to be their fault. She stood up so fast that she skidded into the computer. A book slammed to the floor, and she jumped and screeched, fli
cking on the light behind her and then the kitchen light. She then went back and checked the door, putting the chain on and checking the deadbolt again. She leaned against the door and surveyed the small living room, the old sofa, the two end tables, the toy box in the corner, and the easy chair across the room in front of her. Her eyes went to the corner, the safest spot, where the baby swing was set.
Abby didn’t think. She lifted the swing and started moving everything in the corner aside until there was enough room to shove the easy chair there, facing the door, so there was nothing behind her and nothing beside her. She could see everything: the kitchen, the hallway, the front door. No one could sneak up behind her. She grabbed a blanket from the sofa and sat in the chair, pulling the blanket up to cover her shoulders as she watched the door.
****
Her eyelids were heavy as she stared at the lamp across the room, which cast shadows over the computer and the picture on the wall of her and Eric. It had been taken just after she found out she was pregnant with Charlie, and he was holding Rachel, who had been just over a year old. They had been happy then, full of life, just before he was deployed again. The star-shaped ticking clock beside the photo on the wall drew her attention. It was midnight, and she listened to the sounds of the night. The wind had picked up, and the now bare trees, having shed all their late fall leaves, brushed the side of the house. She looked, staring into the shadows, squinting, jumping at each rustle and knock against the house. Her heart pounded and her eyes burned, and she had to fight to stay awake. Her head would droop, and then she’d jerk awake again, the muscles in her neck pinching. She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and just watched.
She could feel the cold air in her lungs as she breathed, see her breath in the night air like a cloud in front of her. Footsteps came from behind her. She could hear someone walking on the darkened, quiet street. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake, of being watched, that had her skin crawling and fear tightening her stomach until it hurt. She squeezed her fists, jammed in her wool coat pockets, and took in the small windows in the stone building beside her. There were cars and lights ahead, and she felt uneasy, afraid. Something evil and dark was behind her.
She felt as if her body was slowing as she tried to run, but her legs were stuck as if they’d been weighted down and the ground softened beneath her. She couldn’t move, and she tried to scream, but nothing came out, and then she smelled that familiar scent, the sweet perfume, then his pungent body odor. She’d gagged before when he was on top of her, and she remembered the horror. She’d do anything to keep him away from her, from touching her again. It was that smell, that scent, that stoked the fight or flight instinct inside her. She had to get away, but her body wouldn’t cooperate, and she felt smothered, caught. She struggled to breath as if his weight was on her again, the darkest man, whom she thought she’d never see again, and he raised his hand to hit her. It was slow motion, coming, and something slammed into the side her face…
And it stung. She blinked because she was somewhere else, staring at the door in her dimly lit living room, the only light shining in from the kitchen, and it took her a minute to understand she was on the floor, the blanket tangled around her. She jumped up, kicking her legs out from the blanket, her heart racing, and jammed her fingers in her long blond hair as she turned in a circle and knew the threat was real. The lamp on the floor was shattered, the coffee table kicked over, papers and books scattered. The yellow curtain fluttered, and she stared at the front door, but the chain was still on and the deadbolt locked. She walked toward it and watched her trembling hand slide the chain off the door. The same hand turned the lock and opened it as a gust of icy wind swept in. It was black outside, but the street lights were on. She could go, get away, escape. This time, she wouldn’t be caught. She needed to hurry. She didn’t know where he was, but she needed to go now, so she stepped outside into the shadows and started walking.
Chapter 10
Eric heard a banging on his door, and then his light flicked on. He blinked as he was rudely pulled awake. “What the hell?” he muttered.
“Sir, you got an emergency call.”
Eric slid out from under the covers in only his boxers and reached for his pants, tossed on the chair beside the bed. “Who is it?” he barked, glancing at the bedside clock. He’d just gone to bed, and it was ten after one.
“Sir, I was ordered to get you now. Call from home, sir, is all I was told, and it was urgent.”
Eric pulled a T-shirt over his head, swallowing the panic that was trying to choke him. Abby had seemed too good on the phone when he Skyped her. He went into his office. The light was already on and the outside door open. The officer who had awoken him followed him in and picked up the phone, punching in some numbers before handing Eric the receiver.
“Put the call through,” Eric said. He took the phone, dreading what was coming. As he stared at the freckles on the face of the composed man before him, Eric felt as if his blood had turned to ice water in his veins. He was chilled from fear he’d never felt before.
He pressed the receiver to his ear. “Captain Hamilton,” he growled into the phone, a thousand different things flooding his mind and none of them good.
“Eric!” It was Joe. His heart thudded, and he could feel the officer’s eyes on him.
“Joe, what the hell? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Eric, she’s gone.”
He felt as if the room were swaying, and he had to sit, so he perched on the edge of the desk. “What do you mean, she’s gone? Who’s gone?”
“Abby is gone. Woke up at dawn, and your front door was wide open. My God, when I went inside, your living room was wrecked, things knocked over as if there’d been a fight. A lamp was shattered. The baby was hoarse from crying, and Rachel was screaming, sitting in the middle of the hall, calling for Abby.”
Eric couldn’t speak, and he felt nausea roil in his gut and slam up into his throat. He stormed with an overwhelming need to scream and yell, to roar like a lion, but that would get him nowhere. His logical mind had somehow taken a hike as he tried to understand what Joe was saying.
“You need to come home now. Abby is gone. The base police have been everywhere, looking for her all morning. We have no idea what happened.”
“What the hell, Joe?” Eric snapped. “You’re right next door. You promised me, you son of a bitch, that you’d look after my wife. Did someone break in? Did they hurt her?” He was desperate, lashing out, grasping at straws. She wouldn’t have left on her own. Abby was a fighter, his wife, who’d walked barefoot through hell and right out again.
“That’s the thing, Eric. We don’t know what happened. There are no signs someone broke in. She’s gone. I’m sorry.…”
“Where’re Charlie and Rachel?”
He listened to a sigh on the other end. “Mary-Margaret has them. They’re with us.”
“I’m coming home.” His voice was raspy as he choked. Eric dropped the phone and glanced at the officers. His current XO hurried in as if he’d already been briefed, and Eric said, “Get me off this ship now. I’m going home.”
Chapter 11
“This is how we found it, sir.” The military policeman on the front step of his house pushed open the front door. It had taken Eric twenty-six hours to get home, and that was with everyone pulling strings and creating miracles. A chopper had taken him to the base in Germany, and he’d hitched a ride out on a military transport plane. The entire time, he hadn’t slept a wink. Between worrying about his children and what happened to Abby, Eric had barely held it together during the rough and very long flight. A car had picked him up, and now it was late afternoon and he didn’t have a clue what day it was, but he stared at a shattered lamp, an upended coffee table, books and papers scattered everywhere, and the baby swing on its side.
He stepped inside and walked into the kitchen, flicking on the light. There were a few cups and glasses on the counter, but everything was neat and tidy. He stepped down the
hall, looking left and right for anything out of place. The bathroom was dark, so he flicked on the light, but everything was in order. He went inside the kids’ bedroom, staring at Rachel’s little girl’s bed covers tossed aside, stuffies on the floor. The crib was empty, and he felt the overwhelming panic and guilt of not having been there to protect his children. He shut his eyes as he relived his little girl’s fear, what must have gone through her head when she couldn’t find Abby. His baby, Charlie, was so helpless. It made him sick to think what could have happened to them.
“Eric,” Joe barked behind him.
Eric jumped and faced his friend, who was dressed in his tan uniform and was standing a little warily. By the way he held his jaw, Eric knew he was on edge, probably wondering how Eric would react. Of course Joe thought he blamed him. In a way, he did.
“Joe. Where are my kids?”
Joe gestured next door. “At my house. Mary-Margaret has them. They’re fine.”
“Abby…” he said. “What the hell happened here?” He had a thousand questions, and he stepped out of the room just as another officer stepped inside the small house. Joe moved back, glanced away awkwardly, and then gestured helplessly.
“I don’t know what to say, Eric. She said she was fine. We were just here before bed, and the kids were asleep. We checked on everything: the baby, Rachel. Abby didn’t want Mary-Margaret here, told her to go home. She wouldn’t come with us, either. I checked myself, Eric. She seemed okay. I never would have let her stay alone if I thought for a moment she wasn’t. I can’t explain this.…”
Vanished (The Saved Series, A Military Romance) Page 4
