Chapter 10
Nothing left
Nine years earlier…
Ican’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I walk through the baby section at Target. In my basket is the cutest little baby blanket with an anchor stitched in the corner and matching little baby socks. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, they’re going to use this blanket no matter what. I am so proud of their daddy, and I will make sure they are too.
This morning when I woke up, I puked my guts up, just like I did yesterday morning, and the one before that. I brushed my teeth, threw on some running shorts and a tank, and headed for the PX that’s around the corner from our apartment. I grabbed the first pregnancy test my fingers could touch and paid for it before jumping in my car and heading back to the apartment to take it.
I didn’t even read the directions. I mean, how hard could it be? Step one: Pee on the stick. Step two: Wait the longest three minutes of your life. I had set my old-fashioned egg timer. I chewed on the cuticle of my thumb nail the entire time it ticked away. But when it finally dinged, I held my breath and looked down to where it rested on the bathroom counter.
Two pink lines peered up at me, and I knew that in a few short months, it would be Rick’s gorgeous dark-hazel eyes that peered up at me from the face of our child. And I could not wait. Being married to Rick is a dream come true. He is loving and considerate. He even calls as often as he can from overseas. And I know he will be a great dad. This is all a fairy tale come to life for a girl with no family who grew up in foster care. I’ve never had anyone or anything, no people to call my own, so having an amazing husband and a baby on the way—what more could I ask for?
I carry my little red shopping basket over the crook of my arm as I look at baby bottles and pacifiers, onesies and little caps. I let my fingertips glide over a gray wooden crib, and I’m instantly in love. Boy or girl, this is the crib; I know it. I’m excited about it all, and I can’t wait to tell Rick when he calls home tonight.
I decide I should probably pick up some prenatal vitamins and a quart of milk before I check out, because I’m out at home. I walk through the pharmacy section and choose a bottle of vitamins in a happy pink bottle and then head to the dairy section. I’m scanning the aisle for milk and pick up some little cheddar bites in a bag and drop them into my basket when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, and I wonder if Rick was able to call sooner than he thought he would.
“Hello?” I answer quickly.
There are a series of pops and clicks before a robotic voice speaks. I’m about to hang up, and then he says my name. “Don’t hang up, Cara.”
“Who is this?” I ask. I’m not playing games with any telemarketers today. Nothing is going to ruin my mood.
“You’re going to get a text in a second,” the voice says. “Look at it. And know that I’m serious.”
“Serious about what?” I snap as I reach for the milk in the cooler. My fingers curl around the handle and I pluck it from the shelf.
“Serious about the fact that I will have your precious husband killed if you don’t do exactly as I say.” The milk slips from my fingers and crashes to the floor, exploding all over. “I see that I have your attention now.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Ding! My phone’s text tone chimes, making me gasp.
“That’ll be the message now,” the voice says.
UNKNOWN: [PICTURES]
I open my text app. It’s picture after picture of Rick and other sailors and soldiers in various uniforms on some base in a desert. I don’t know much about where he is now, because he couldn’t tell me, and I was okay with that. I understand my place as a military wife.
He looks happy in some. I always know he loves what he does. He’s smiling at something another man is saying to him.
“I don’t understand what this means,” I say after I raise my phone back to my ear.
“It’s to prove to you that I have access to him, and if you don’t do as I say, your husband will die in a friendly fire accident before the day is through,” the voice warns.
“No.”
“Yes,” they hiss like a snake.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’m glad you’re finally listening.” They chuckle, but I do not find one thing funny about this situation.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask again.
“Leave him.”
“W-what?” I gasp. I couldn’t have heard correctly.
