Vanished (The Saved Series, A Military Romance) (4 page)

Joe and Mary-Margaret walked inside her house right after
dinner, and she knew this was to make sure she was okay and that she was minding her children. Even though she knew it wasn’t intentional, it hurt nonetheless to think everyone thought she was incapable, especially as they hadn’t respected her enough to knock. It left her feeling terribly exposed. She didn’t deserve this and resented their judgment more and more. She wasn’t incapable.

She wasn’t.

She loved her children. She loved Eric. She loved her home. So why couldn’t she love herself? Why couldn’t these people give her a break?

Joe searched every room, even her bedroom. She heard him slide open her closet
, and she stood stoically, waiting as if she had nothing to hide. She silently died a little more inside while pasting a smile on her face. He checked on her children next, and she could just imagine what he was looking for. Had she tucked her children in properly? Were they warm enough, clean enough? She imagined everything he was seeing would then be reported to Eric. Had she passed inspection? She worried, feeling beads of sweat pimple up her spine. Her stomach ached, and she fought the nausea that rumbled, wondering what he had decided.

I
t was horrible, feeling her fate in the hands of these two people she’d once thought of as friends. She could feel Mary-Margaret standing beside her, watching her with that shrewd, all-seeing gaze. Abby swallowed and forced herself to play the role of a lifetime as she glanced sideways and smiled. Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if Mary-Margaret could see it, hear it. She was waiting for her to make a mistake, and then she’d pounce. Abby wanted to weep when Joe appeared, taking in Abby and then sharing a meaningful gaze with his wife, as if they were deciding between them what was to happen. She swallowed and waited. Joe stood in front of her, and she couldn’t help feeling boxed in by the two of them.

“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.

I
nstantly, 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 exte
nded 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.”

B
eing 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, flicking 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.

S
he 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…