Abby's Promise

by Rebekah Dodson

  For a pudgy banker, he hit damn hard.

  “Dad, no!” I heard Abby scream.

  Cursing, I stumbled back into Abby’s car, bracing myself against the slick hood. He didn’t hit me hard enough to break my nose, but as I wiped my hand over my face it came back with a trickle of blood. I pressed my shirt to my face. My face exploded with pain, but I’d had worse.

  “Just go, Joey!” Abby yelled, and I blinked as I saw her and Lettie struggling to hold her dad back. Twenty feet away, her mother stood on the porch, her hands pressed to her mouth in silent horror.

  I shook my head and stood my ground. “I won’t leave, Abby, not when Zoey is still out there!” I managed to announce even though my head was pounding now, and my voice muffled through my shirt.

  Abby let go of her father and pushed me away from her car. “Go! I’ll call you as soon as there’s any news!”

  Defeated, I knew I couldn’t stay, not with her father still glaring at me from his driveway and huffing like another punch was in order. Reluctantly, I got in my truck and headed down the road to the highway and then to my parents’ house.

  The house was empty when I got home, thankfully. My parents, avid church goers, would still be in service at this time of the morning. Some days they didn’t even get back until the afternoon if they went to play card with church friends. Thankfully, they’d stopped making us go to church around high school, and of the four of us, I didn’t think any of us ended up religious at all. I thought about my estranged brothers: the new term would still be in full swing for Randy, Mike would be enjoying his weekend off, and Kelly? Who knows? I hadn’t heard from him in a few years. He still talked to my mother, but being a busy surgeon at the other end of the country didn’t leave him room to talk to his brothers, I guessed.

  All these thoughts rumbled around my brain, but I still couldn’t get Abby’s face out of my mind. Her look of horror when her dad hit me, and her frustration at shoving me away. I knew she didn’t have much of a choice but driving away had been hard. How could I leave her like that?

  As I let myself in the back door, I wondered briefly where Juney was. Out with friends, I guessed, as she almost always was when she wasn’t locked in her bedroom. Would Lettie text her what happened? Should I text her?

  I shook my head, knowing no one could see me. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all my snotty teenage sister. She’d just ask why I hadn’t hit back.

  I don’t think any of them knew how much the Marines had changed me. In high school I never backed down from a fight, but eight years taught me a fight was usually the worst way to solve a problem. At times, I wished our politicians knew that.

  I grabbed a beer, dismissing my father’s demand for payment, which he surely would later, and guzzled it in one gulp, tossing the empty can in the garbage. I stood staring at the sink full of dishes, odd that my mother would leave them in such a state. She hated an untidy house, always had. To take my mind off Abby and Zoey, I unloaded the dishwasher and piled in the dirty dishes, starting it with a flick of the button.

  I checked my phone, but no messages from Abby, just one from Randy: Death Knell, dude.

  Can’t, homework, I texted back.

  Lame, he answered.

  I know, right? I itched to tell him what was happening, or at least share my events of last night, but I didn’t know how much of it was mine to share.

  You missed an awesome raid last night. Where were you?

  I panicked. Uh, busy, dude.

  Like with a girl or what?

  Yes, like with a girl, if you must know.

  Oh sweet! Anyone I know?

  I paused. Randy was in school two-hundred and fifty miles away. Surely, he wouldn’t be talking to anyone here, right? You remember my friend from high school, Abby Y… I backed that up. I didn’t know if Randy knew what happened with Evan, and I didn’t want to explain it. Abby Jameson?

  You banged Abby, that girl you hung out with in high school? Finally!

  WTF, Randy.

  Mike and I had a bet on it in high school. I mean, I was like twelve, but whatever. We all knew it. Even mom wanted it to happen.

  STFU, I texted back. He was making me angry. Sure, back then, Abby and I had flirted a little, even kissed once or twice, but we were never like that. Were we? Or had I just never let it happen because back then I’d been a shallow prick? The image of Abby under me, gripping my arms as her face twisted in her bliss was a memory I didn’t ever want to forget. Why had I waited so long to show her how I felt? Well, I was an idiot.

  Randy’s next text startled me: Lol. High five, Jo. You’re a chubby chaser now.

  I stared at the phone and resisted the urge to tell him to shut up, or better yet, call him and give him a piece of my mind. Abby wasn’t thin, but she wasn’t—oh, goddamn it. I was mad now.

  Yeah, well. Abby is special to me, so keep your thoughts to yourself, bro.

  Whoa! Alright, Jo. I’ve got a raid. I’ll be on later if you want to play.

  Go do your homework.

  Same back at ya, bro.

  I sighed and tossed my phone on the table. Homework. That was a good idea to get my mind off Abby. I grabbed my backpack from my room and spread it out on the kitchen table. History, business, college success. A reflection paper, two quizzes. I’d be done in no time.

  Unfortunately, my phone buzzing woke me about an hour later. I had passed out right at the table on top of my four-inch thick business textbook that I didn’t even crack open. Wiping my eyes, I scrolled through notifications. A number I didn’t recognize had called, and I’d slept through it. My mother texted to say they’d be having dinner with the Johnsons from church. Another text from Abby. I dialed her number immediately.

  “Abby, I got your text. Please tell me it’s good news.”

  “I’m at the police station,” she said, her voice more tired and haggard than ever. “They found Zoey.”

  My heart nearly stopped. She didn’t sound happy about it. “Please tell me she’s okay?”

  “She’s fine, unharmed. About twenty minutes after you left, Cheryl actually brought her down here. She claims she had no part in Malachai snatching her.”

  “I knew it,” I interrupted.

  “Look, Officer Knowles has tried to call you. They need you down here. For a statement and something else.”

  “What?” I asked, remembering that unrecognized number.

  “Just get down here, Joey. As soon as you can.”

  “I’m on it.” We hung up.

  I slid my homework into the textbooks and stacked them neatly on the table. I wondered what else they needed—and prayed they didn’t let me in the same room as Malachai. I wasn’t sure this time I’d only tackle him to the ground for what he’d done to Abby.

  Officer Knowles was a remarkably nice man, I found out, and a Marines veteran of fifteen years. His company had been in Afghanistan, he shared, and he’d been airborne. I winced. He was lucky to be alive, though I didn’t say that out loud. We shared the look that only two military brothers could, and he got right to business.

  I’d only seen Abby for about two seconds as I came into the police station. She was holding a sleeping Zoey, who looked no worse for wear. As soon as I saw them both, relief washed over me, and I felt my muscles relax. Even the pain in my face—though I knew I’d have a bruise tomorrow—had mostly ebbed away. I had nodded at Abby and followed the officer back to his desk.

  “I’m sorry to report that Malachai Years is at large,” Officer Knowles got right to the point. “His mother, Cheryl, waited for him to fall asleep before she took the child and came here. When we got to their place, it was empty.”

  “Yes, I heard,” I said, remembering Abby’s brief text from earlier.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Abby’s been here filing all the paperwork for the restraining order, and we are retaining Mrs. Years, Cheryl that is, until we can get to the bottom of this.”

  I motioned for him to continue, though I fo
ught hard to keep my face neutral. It was still difficult to think of Abby as a Mrs.

  “Problem is, Cheryl gave us some disturbing news. It seems Malachai has made some verbal threats—aimed at you.”

  “I’ve been to Fallujah three times,” I said, shrugging. “I’m currently living at my parents, but between my father and I, we’ve got, uh, protection.” I trailed off. I wasn’t actually sure my father’s guns were all registered, but I knew where every single one was in the house.

  Officer Knowles held up his hand. “I’m afraid that’s not the point. You’re both in danger, and even if we sent a patrol to both of your houses, we can’t protect you as much as we’d like. You see, when Abby told me you were a veteran, I had a thought, about safety, for both of.”

  “You want me to stay with her.”

  “Well, it’s not an order.” He eyed me. “But from what I gather, you’re in a relationship with her, and this could work to our advantage.”

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “Did Abby say that?”

  “Not in so many words, no. She just listed you as an alibi. Due process questioning, and all that, ya know? And while we’re at it, you were with her yesterday, all day, and overnight as well?”

  I nodded. “I left about nine this morning.”

  He checked some paperwork on his desk. “That’s after the child was reported missing, so both you and Mrs. Years—sorry, Abigail—are safe on this front.” He smiled, but it was short lived. “Look, let’s get down to this. I know you said you’re at your parents, and we don’t have the resources to follow all of you at all times. It’s just safer if you stay at Abigail’s residence, at least make sure she and Zoey aren’t alone. Of course, we will have an unmarked detective parked outside twenty-four hours a day for protection, at least until we find Malachai. Do you understand?”

  I nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure Abby would like this. “Does Abby know?”

  “She’s not happy. She divulged to me that you’re her student, is that correct?”

  “Yes. She’s worried about her job.”

  He waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the school would understand it’s for safety reasons. I’ll make a few calls if I need to.”

  I forced myself to smile. This whole situation was awful—I’d be on high alert, and so would Abby. It would be a tense few days, and that worried me. “I appreciate it. We also need patrol at Zoey’s daycare, as clearly, Abby and I have class.”

  “We’re already on it.” He stood and offered me his hand, which I shook.

  “So, just life as normal for a few days, eh?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “We’ll try our best to find him. I’m sorry I can’t offer much else.”

  “Alright, thank you.” I turned to go. “By the way—thanks for your service, man.”

  “And you as well.”

  Another officer walked me back to the front. I strode to Abby and took Zoey from her. She sighed and thanked me. The dark lines under her eyes, combined with the sleep neither of us got last night, spoke volumes. We didn’t talk as we walked to her car, and I buckled the sleeping toddler into the back seat. I kissed her soft forehead and brushed her blonde hair from her face.

  Abby eyed me, her tired face worried and anxious.

  I resisted the urge to pull her close to me. The tension was thick in the air, but so were her boundaries at the moment. “Mind if we stop at my house, first? I need to grab my homework,” she chuckled a little at that, “and some clothes. Then I’ll follow you to your house.”

  “You agreed to Officer Knowles proposition, then?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I agree with him; it’s safer for all of us until they catch this asshole.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get going. The sooner we are both in bed, the better.”

  I knew she wasn’t including me in that, and despite the stress of the day, that made me sad.

  Back at my house, I hurriedly left a note for my parents, telling them I’d explain more tomorrow, then packed my backpack as full as I could with books, papers, pens, and clothes. From under my bed, I pulled out the locked case with my Glock 19. It was my first purchase after getting out, and thank God, I’d never even fired it. After years of sleeping next to my M-16, the Glock just made it easier to sleep at night. I prayed I’d never have to use it, but I’d feel better knowing it was in Abby’s house and accessible.

  Sure enough, Abby objected. “I don’t care what it is, that’s not going in my house,” she said from her window as I locked the front door behind me.

  “This isn’t a negotiation, it’s a warzone,” I told her.

  “It’s not a warzone. The cops will catch him.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  She looked at me, helpless.

  I threw the pack and gun in the truck’s side door. “I’ll see you at home, Abby.”

  She glared at me before driving away.

  Well, welcome to the suck, I thought. She was right; it wasn’t a warzone, but damn, why did I feel like I was back in Fallujah again with people who wanted me to drop dead?

  Chapter 10

  Jo-Jo: I haven’t heard from you in months. Are you alright?

  Abby Girl: New phone. Who is this?

  It’s amazing how one of the best nights of my life could turn to complete crap in less than twenty-four hours. It started that very night when Joey and I got into an argument. We’d argued before, but it was always just good-natured banter, for the most part. But this was different. This was about my daughter. And I was not going to budge on anything when it came to Zoey.

  It had been a long week with Joey at the house, Joey in class, Joey watching my every move. Joey and his gun—did he even care how much I hated them? I knew it was to keep us safe. But as I trudged through the last week, things just kept getting worse. I sat at my desk pouring over a stack of papers. I was way behind on grading already due to the events over the weekend. I was better than this, I knew, but Joey had disrupted everything.

  Sunday had resulted in us all falling asleep in my queen size bed, with Joey’s arms tucked around Zoey. I didn’t mind; it had been a long day of the most intense stress I’d ever had—well, second to when I found Evan, but thankfully my brain had seen fit to block most of that from my memory. Well, it tried, anyway. Joey hadn’t insisted on us all in the bedroom, but he’d followed, and I’d let him. I supposed that was my biggest mistake.

  We both trudged through class. It was hard to concentrate, and I wasn’t at my best, knowing Zoey was at daycare and wondering if Malachai knew, and would try to take her again, even though I knew the white, unmarked car that followed us was for a good reason.

  Monday night, though? That’s when everything went to hell.

  “I need space,” I told Joey quietly as we suffered through dinner. “Zoey and I will just retire early. There’s spare sheets and a blanket that fit the couch in the closet behind the front door.”

  Joey’s fork had clanged loudly as it hit his plate of take-out he’d so kindly picked up after class. “You’re letting this bother you too much. You need to give the kid time in her room—you’re just stressing her out.”

  “Excuse me?” I had looked at him sharply. “She’s my daughter,” I had insisted, biting back the words she has just been kidnapped. “I think I know what’s best for her.”

  “You can’t let her sleep in your bed forever,” he mumbled as he gathered up his plates.

  To my right, Zoey happily banged on her food tray in her high chair. She didn’t seem any worse for wear, and had been her happy, bubbly self since I picked her up from daycare. He was right, I knew that now, but then—the stress of the last few days had turned me into one crabby, hormonal bitch.

  I greatly regret what I had said next.

  “You think because I let you in my bed, and that Officer Knowles demanded I need ‘protection’, that this was going to be a nightly occurrence?” I hissed at him, cornered in front of the sink and partially out of view of Zoey. �
�You thought wrong, Joey Harrison. You can’t just play house with me under court orders and act like you get free pickings of the merchandise.” Even as I said it, I knew I was a dirty liar. He was so close to me that my body thrummed in response. What was wrong with me, that I craved his touch even when I was mad at him?

  He had stepped back, the hurt clear on his face. He didn’t even bother to mask it, as I noticed he often did.

  Zoey was all I had left of Evan, and I couldn’t bear for her to be apart from me. Teaching was torture enough. But did I say that? No. Because I’m an idiot. Instead, I just let my mouth do whatever it wanted, and I made everything worse.

  “‘Play house’? Abby, I didn’t want that to happen at all.” He raised his hand to touch my face, and I swatted it away.

  “Furthermore,” I interrupted as he trailed off, “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your hands and other body parts away from me for the time being. Malachai is still out there, and until they capture him, we need to stay focused.” I was right, damn it, I was right!

  He had sighed and nodded, and thus commenced the following five days of awkwardness where we had to live together, but mutually ignored each other.

  The only time we ever spoke was about Zoey. He asked permission so often that I eventually snapped at him and told him to just take care of her if he felt so inclined. Again, he said nothing, and did whatever I asked. He changed diapers and handed her to me when it got late enough that we could retreat behind my bedroom door.

  I marked off the last few papers, entered the last of the grades, and locked my office door behind me.

  It was Friday, but instead of a relaxing weekend in front of me, I was a bundle of tense nerves. My neck and back ached to the point where walking was difficult. I couldn’t even think about dinner, but as soon as I walked in the door, I knew I didn’t need to.

  “You cooked?” I asked Joey, blinking, smelling the meaty tomato sauce wafting through the house. I set my bag by the door and crept closer to the stove. A pan of noodles, covered with sauce and sprinkled with white cheese, sat steaming on the stove. “Ziti?”