October 30, 2012
Rhea
Today, well today is the day. Chad is coming home!
He is due to touch down at three PM in Norfolk, and from there Rosa is going to pick him up and bring him and Reno here for a huge party that I'm currently planning. The party may have to be put on hold, though, because as of three minutes ago, I started having contractions.
It is minor, yes, and doesn’t last more than a minute, so I'm not going to let it concern me right now. I need to make sure the house is perfect for when he gets home. If the contractions get worse and become closer together, I'll alert Brad, the ever ready EMT, and have him take me to the hospital. Until then, however, I'm going to focus on cleaning and cooking.
Brad and Garth are out back with Harlan and his brothers, putting up a couple large tents and stacking fire wood in the pit. Kendall is in the kitchen with Dana, putting together salads and prepping food for a cookout. I had called my cousin Ellie last night, and talked with her for almost two hours, finally getting her to promise she is going to show up today so that we can see each other face to face. I have called her a couple of times since reading her letter at my shower, but every time she says she's too bogged down with a case for the DA to come visit, so I haven't seen her yet. I'm excited to see her and to see how she's changed in the past twenty years.
I'm giddy as all get out, and let out a little squeal to myself as I check myself one more time in the mirror. It is a little past eleven in the morning as I trot down the stairs, greeting Kendall and Dana with a wide, cheer filled smile.
"Rhea, all the stuff you wanted to clean Rooster's truck with is out in the garage. I had Brad put it there for ya." Kendall smiles, giving me a one armed hug as she cuts up a cucumber.
"Alright, I'll be out there if ya guys need anything," I say, kissing Dana on the cheek and almost bouncing through the side door into the garage.
The happiness running through my limbs is almost too much to bear. I can't believe he's finally going to be home. He's finally going to be with me. I can touch him, kiss him, fall asleep next to him. I feel like I'm going to explode with giddiness as I fill a small bucket up with water and soap.
I am planning on washing up Randy's old Chevy as a surprise for Chad. I know it's a small gesture, but I also know he'll love it. He loves this truck as much as my brother did, and seeing it in tip-top shape will make him so happy. So, plunging my hand into the cold bucket of soap suds, I swirl the sponge around and get to work; pausing only when I have another contraction, which, as I keep an eye on the clock, are about twenty minutes apart. I silently cross my fingers that they stay far apart as I rinse the truck, opening the driver’s door to clean the interior.
Somehow, in the midst of the window cleaner and dust rags, I feel closer to my brother. I haven't felt this at ease being around his things since before his death, and it makes me smile. The cab even smells like him as I'm rummaging through it. The smell of old, worn in leather from his old baseball mitt under the bench seat brings tears to my eyes as I remember the good times we had playing catch together when we were younger. Randy and I both loved baseball, and in the spring time, that's exactly where you would find us. Randy would be on the baseball diamond, catching grounders and turning double plays from his position at short-stop, and you'd find me on the softball field; backing up plays at third and thwarting home run attempts from left field.
We could spend hours going over plays and highlights; finally our mother would tell us to watch TV in our rooms, because she got sick of listening to ESPN. I really wish he was still here, but I know he's up there, in heaven, watching intently over his little sister and best friend.
I Armor-All, wipe, dust, and vacuum until the interior of this old truck looks perfect. Stepping from the cab and taking in a sharp breath to fight off the squeezing pressure of another contraction, I see that on the garage clock it is already quarter to three.
Oh my God, he’ll be back on U.S. soil in fifteen minutes or less. I squeal to myself as I throw the window cleaner and paper towels back in the large box Brad had set out for me, slamming the door shut as the radio cranks out Georgia-Florida Line's "Cruise".
"Hey, Ray," a deep voice says and scares me. I swing around, holding my breath when I see Duke.
I haven't seen or heard from him since our encounter at my baby shower. I have a restraining order, telling him that he has to stay away all together. He isn’t even supposed to be on the street. He looks horrible as I scan my eyes over him. His blue-green eyes are blood shot, his face unshaven and greasy, and his clothes are dirty. He smells like sweat, beer, and chew; the scents finding me even though he's ten feet away. He lifts his old Earnhardt cap, raking his hand back through his hair, and I can see that it's greasy and matted. What happened to him?
"Duke, you’re not supposed to be here." I keep my voice down as not to draw attention. The last thing I need is a brawl, so I need to get him out of here. "You need to get out of here before I call the Sheriff." I look around him and don't see his truck. Well, that's weird. Has he planned to be alone with me? Fear trickles into my veins, and a chill meets my arms even though it is a warm fall day.
"I needed to talk to you. To see you." His voice is full of pain and he takes another step toward me, sending my back up against Chad's Harley. "I'm sorry about acting like that at your baby shower." He smiles, and his teeth are stained from the Copenhagen, giving them a yellowish-brown tinge. "I love you, Rhea. I need you to know that. I can't live without you."
"Duke, we've been over this. You need to let this go. We can't be together, ever," I say harshly, but still with a whisper. His eyebrows knit together. "You took advantage of my good heart. I wanted to be your friend, but you wanted more and I can't give that to you. I love Chad. I'm having Chad's baby, and we are going to be a family. Today is his coming home party." I smile sweetly, but his eyebrows stay together. I can see his nostrils flare as he lets out a huff of a breath.
"I can love you ten times better than he can, and you know that," he pleads and I shake my head, dropping my gaze to my flip-flops and my light blue toenails. Why can't he just see that this isn't going to be? "Rhea, I can give you the life you've always wanted. I can give you the house and the kids and the secure feeling, I know I can. Just give me the chance." His tone pulls at the part of my heart that always holds sympathy for the underdog, making me feel bad that I am hurting his feelings.
"Duke," I try to say calmly, "you had your chance. At one point, I thought that maybe we could've been something, but you went off and slept with Holly and that was that." It is true. I had faced it long ago. It was months before Chad had come home and before my mother had died. We had hooked up, and for once, in a long time, I felt as if I was worth something to a man.
Duke had his eyes on me at every turn, his gaze making me melt, and I had felt like that could have been it. We could have made something of it, but then I heard through the grapevine of his tryst with Holly, and I ignored his phone calls after that. I let the frustration and tiredness of the situation display all over my face, and I can see his gaze darken. He isn't getting his way and he doesn’t like it one bit. "You need to leave, please."
"You know I'd give you anythin' you want!” He says with anger, taking another step toward me, and I have to look up at him. He's within a foot and the smell radiating off of him makes me want to gag. He looks like he spent the last month wallowing in alcohol and chew, never bothering to shower.
"I'd give you the fucking moon if you asked, and you know it. I'd raise that baby as my own, just to make you happy, and that isn't good enough for you? What the hell is good enough for you?" His hands shoot out, grabbing my forearms, and pull me to his chest, and I have to swallow down a scream. This is turning bad, but I don't want a brawl. I need to get him to leave on his own.
Pushing against his chest with both my hands, Duke releases his grip and gives me a step of space. "Duke, you can say you'll give me all these things, but you can't give me the one thing I need." I take a step around the front tire of Chad's Harley, putting more space between us. I am now in eye line with the side door leading into the kitchen, and if anyone walks past it, they'll see me. Just in case.
"What you need, is to realize that Chad will leave you time and again. He'll come home for a week, a month, but then he'll leave again and you'll be left with a baby, wondering where he is. Wondering if he's alive. Wondering if he's finding comfort in someone else's arms on base somewhere." A sneer crosses over his face and my stomach lurches. I shake my head furiously at his comment. Chad will never cheat on me. Never.
"What you need is to see that one day he might not come back, just like Rooster." He did not just bring my brother into this. My blood begins to feel as if it's boiling, and my fists ball at my sides. "He'll die out in some desert and leave you alone. Like Randy did, and like your mother did."
"Don't you dare bring my brother or my mother into this!” I hiss back at him, feeling the flush of anger fill my body. "This is the last thing I'm gonna say to you, Duke Orr." I step up to him, pointing right in his face to get my point across loud and clear. "I do not, have not, and will not ever love you. I am with Chad, and you need to get over that." I turn on my heels, feeling the baby kick and another contraction start.
"Ray!” His voice rings out through the garage in an echo, making me stop. I hear him pull something out and then that unmistakable click of a handgun being cocked resonates in my ears. Fear fills my limbs and I turn slowly toward him. I run ideas of how to diffuse this through my mind as I face Duke Orr, a nine millimeter in his hand, pointed right at me. I can't say anything.
"Ray, that right there.... that is why you gotta die. If I can't have you, nobody's gonna have you. Especially not that Navy fuck...."
It seems like slow motion. I think I scream, but then BANG! Smoke fills the air from the barrel and my right shoulder is on fire.
BANG! And my chest is on fire, and I'm falling.
BANG! And my right leg is on fire.
I can hear screams and yells. I can feel pounding footsteps on the concrete, shadows passing over me, heading toward the driveway. I'm lying on the floor and my head is swimming; my body is on fire. Kendall and Brad are kneeling, their faces above me, but all I can think is, "Oh God. Please save my baby."
~~~~~~~~~
Kendall
"That girl is jus' too giddy for her own good." I laugh as Rhea passes by Dana and me, heading into the garage. The large pan of chef salad I am preparing for Chad's coming home party is done, so wrapping it with plastic wrap, I hand it off to Dana, seeing her wide smile.
"I'm just glad those two boneheads finally woke up and confessed their love for each other." She laughs, shoving the aluminum pans into the already overstuffed fridge. We are going to have plenty of food for the party. I am just glad Chad is coming home safe and sound. I don't even want to think about how Rhea would be if he wasn't.
Rhea, my best friend since diapers, has been head over heels for Chad since I can remember. She has endured years upon years of my teasing about it, her face turning red or throwing caustic insults back at me to defend herself. To tell you the truth, I have always known they would end up together.
There is just something about them; when they're together, you can just feel it. They can be a football field apart and you can sense the love, the affection they share. It sounds cheesy and cliché, but I truly believe Chad and Rhea are made for each other.
She says the same about Harlan and I, and I've been crossing my fingers lately that she is right. Scooting around the island, I peer out the screen door, hearing my man's deep voice carry from the field behind, yelling at his younger brothers. I am so madly in love with that man, that at times I feel crazy. It's so weird how I never really noticed his affection toward me until the bonfire back in January. I had been too concerned with quintessential bad boy, Jarrod Rawlings, to notice anyone else, and I've paid the price in lost time with Harlan.
He is so good to me and to his family that I can't imagine my life without him now. He's been so willing to help Rhea with whatever, whenever, that I'm afraid he might overload if we ever have a baby. The thought of it makes me giggle to myself as I watch him shove his sixteen year old brother, Johnny, out of the way to stretch the tarp tight over a pole to secure it himself, swearing loudly. That is my farmer boy for you.
"What are you giggling about, Kendall Marie Byrd?” Dana's sweet little voice breaks my daydream, and I snap back to prep mode, grabbing the closest food item and figuring out what to do with it. She gives me a sly smile and a wink, tossing another pan my way so that I can fill it and mix the macaroni salad. We work in comfortable silence, except for the light country music coming from the television in the next room; Dana humming along to it every now and then.
Glancing up at the clock on the stove, I see that it's almost quarter to three, noting that we have to kick it into high gear if we are going to have all this stuff ready. We have a large cooler lined with ice that we are stacking the pans to use first. Shoving the fourth pan of pasta salad down in and slamming the lid, I let out a loud sigh.
"Almost done, Kendall girl," Dana cheers, shaking the empty can of baked beans around like a pom-pom before tossing it in the makeshift recycling bin beside me.
"Should I check on Rhea?” I muse, cracking open a can of Coke and taking a long drink. Prep work is hard work; I am almost sweating.
"Nah, she should be almost done. If she needs anything, she’ll yell." I nod in reply, wiping off the counters around me. "Hon, do you know the names that Rhea has picked out? She won't tell me."
Dana has a pout on her lips as I peer over my shoulder at her, and I laugh lightly. She is so excited about having a grandbaby that she might as well have it tattooed across her forehead.
"I do," I say, and she squeals, "but, I promised Rhea not to tell anyone ‘till Chad picks one. She wants him to have the final say as to what their son is named." I think it is sweet. It also shows that typical Southern woman side of Rhea: bowing to a man to make a decision about his eldest son. She doesn’t really give a shit about that, she just wants Chad to feel as if he had a bigger part of the whole pregnancy, having the final say with the name.
Her choices are sweet and tear jerking as well. Number one is Charles Randolph Payne. Charles was Chad’s father, who passed away when he was younger, and, of course, Randolph for Rhea's older brother, Randy. Number two is Chadwick Rex Payne. Chadwick of course for Chad and Rex was the name that Randy always used to say he would name his son when he had one. It is a shame that he never would, because he would've been an awesome dad, just like he was an awesome brother to Rhea, and me for that matter.
Dana gives me a smile that she tries to make look like a pout, and I giggle at her. I know she'll love either one, so I make a zipping motion with my fingers to my lips and she laughs. Our comfortable quiet is interrupted as the guys burst in the sliding door, sweaty and yelling at each other.
"Why y'all gotta be so loud?” Dana chides, hitting Brad in the shoulder with a plastic spoon she had been mixing pasta salad with, and he winces dramatically, rubbing the spot.
"It's warm as hell out there when you're the one doin' all the work," Harlan huffs, sitting next to me and wrapping me in a sweat soaked hug, which I quickly break, getting him to nip at my ear. His brothers all issue their own gripes, throwing empty water bottles at him as I duck out of the way. The Dow boys are always ragging on each other about one thing or another, and it makes everyone laugh at them as they start to break off into pairs, wrestling.
"Where's our little momma?” Garth asks through a mouth full of apple, leaning his back on the island next to Brad. His green eyes meet mine as I nod my head toward the mud room door, trying to pry Harlan's two youngest brothers apart before they break something. "Well, it's almost three, I'll go get her so ..."
"Ray..." we all hear the voice echo from the garage, and it makes us freeze. As I look up at Harlan and then Garth, they both have confused looks on their faces. Then three quick shots, BANG, BANG, BANG, bring us from our spots, and I'm on Harlan's heels as we burst into the garage.
What the hell, is all I can think as I barely catch sight of Garth and Harlan chasing after someone, and then I see my best friend lying on the concrete. Bleeding. Moaning. I'm over by her and kneeling before I even feel my legs move.
"Ray, Ray can you hear me?” I scream, the fright making its way into my heart.
She's bleeding from the shoulder and chest, with a steady stream flowing from her right thigh. Oh my God, she's bleeding! She's been shot! "No, no, no..." I whimper, the tears flowing freely from my eyes. My hands shake as I hover them over her, my mind not quite working. It's then that I notice Brad is on her right side, frantically applying pressure to her leg and yelling at me.
"Ken, snap out of it! Rhea needs our help," he says to me and I can hear the shakiness of his voice as he looks up at me from my best friend’s bleeding body. "Dana, tell them to send the Medi-Vac from Waverly, her femoral artery has been severed," he yells and I hear Dana's shaky voice behind me. I've watched enough CSI, Law & Order, and House to know that this isn't good.
I'm guessing Dana is on the phone with 911, but I'm too absorbed with the scene before me. It's so surreal. Am I fucking dreaming? This can’t be real; no, it isn’t. I’ll wake up and feel like a dumbass.
"Rhea," I lean down and whisper in her ear as her blue-gray eyes dart around, little moans coming from her lips, "stay with us. Hang in there, momma; help's on the way." I wipe my hand over her forehead and brush back the hair. I take the torn t-shirt from one of Harlan's brothers and apply pressure to her shoulder, the blood almost immediately seeping through to hit my hands.
I shoo Harlan's thirteen year old brother, Jimmy, away. His face is the picture of my emotions: pale, wide eyed, and frightened. Fuck, am I frightened. I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing as Rhea groans beneath me.
"Th-th-the baby…” she gets out between a heart shattering moan and whimper.
My eyes go from her stomach to Brad. He's tied a tourniquet around her leg, and as his hazel eyes meet mine, my heart drops. The hazel is rimmed in red, the tears running down his stubble filled face and dripping from his chin. Rhea's left hand shoots up and grabs his forearm.
"Save my baby!” she cries, and I try to choke down the sob that fills my chest.
"Hold on, momma," he says, "both of you are gonna be jus' fine. You gotta calm down and just focus on breathin'." Her breathing is heavy and hitching, a wheezing coming from deep inside. I press harder on the chest and shoulder wounds, secretly wanting them to disappear. Wanting them to just go away, and to rewind time.
I want to go back an hour from now and keep Rhea from coming out here. I want to hug her tight to me and not let her go. Fuck, I want to tell her I’ll come help her and let the fully capable Dana finish with the food. Maybe then I wouldn’t be kneeling here, my hands covered in my best friend’s blood.
I can hear the sirens approaching as Brad keeps talking to Rhea, and I finally lift my head from my fallen best friend to take in the chaos around me. Harlan and Garth have someone pinned down in the driveway. Harlan is swinging away at the person as the Sheriffs’ cars screech to a stop at the end of the drive, the deputies hopping out and pulling Harlan off.
Duke Orr. That no-good bastard. That redneck, piece of shit, drunk, fucking asshole.
The bile in my stomach lurches into my throat, and I almost lose it. He shot her?
Watching as they pull him to the front of the cop car, throwing him down on his chest and pulling his hands behind his back, I let out a frustrated scream, drowning out Duke's yells of "I'm sorry," or "I love you, Rhea."
"Jesus!” Brad's curse brings my attention back, and I follow his eyes.
Rhea's water has broken. The liquid is soaking into her shorts and seeping onto the concrete. We need that helicopter. Where the hell are they?
"No, Rhea, you gotta stay awake," he yells, his hand on her forehead as his other still applies pressure to her thigh. He shakes her, a frustrated sound coming from deep within his chest pulling at my heart. “Rhea! Stay with me, momma!”
"Brad, what's going on?” I cry, pressing down on Rhea's shoulder wound as I peer down at her face.
It is pale. Her eyes are closed. Looking at her chest, I don’t see it rising and falling, and I can’t stop the sobs from flowing out.
"No, no, no," I scream in my head, a frustrated grunt growing between my teeth as more tears stream down. This can't be happening. She is meant to be happy. Chad is coming home. Chad!
"Someone's gotta call Chad!” I scream, looking around for Dana. She is standing at the back door, her eyes on the back yard. She’s shaking; I can see her hands gripped into her shirt as her entire body trembles.
"The helicopter!” she cries, pointing out, and my heart lifts. Rhea has to be okay now, the paramedics are here. She is going to be fine, right?
The next few minutes fly by, in a total blur, leaving my head spinning. Men come in the garage with a backboard and medical bags, pushing me out of the way as Brad gives them the run down. Rhea is strapped down and wheeled from the garage before I know it and I watch them put her in the chopper and lift off, Brad along with them.
How could a happy day turn bad in less than ten minutes? Turning back toward the driveway, still in shock, I see the reason why. Words leave me as I watch the guys all arguing and shuffling around with the reason why my best friend is clinging to life, hundreds of miles up in the air, fighting the cops to be free.
Duke Orr is being pushed into the back of one of the Sheriffs’ cars, blood covering most of his face. My heart is racing and my limbs are shaking as my legs carry me to the car.
Rage pours through my fists as I pound them on the car window, screaming undecipherable words at the top of my lungs. Harlan's arms wrap around my waist, yanking me from my ranting as the Sheriffs try to calm me down. I feel like a wild beast, thrashing at the open air around me as I scream and cry. Then I see the blood, covering my arms and hands.
My best friend's blood. My beautiful, full of life, beaming mother to be, best friend. The girl who I can go to with any problem or gripe. The girl who likes her iced tea a little bitter and her frosting to be thick on her cake. My best friend.
"Why?” I scream, turning into Harlan's chest and letting the situation hit me. Rhea has been shot. Shot by Duke. Pushing back against Harlan's chest, I look up at the emotional tornado that is his face. "We need to go. We need to get to the hospital."
"Go in and get your phone," he says, releasing me to Dana, and we make our way to the front door. She is still trembling, the same as I am, and we both grip each other tighter. Grabbing Rhea's baby ready bags from the front closet, my phone, and locking the door, it’s like I’m in zombie mode. Dana and I emerge just as Garth whips Brad's Jeep to the front steps; the blue light on the dash flashing away.
"Get in," Garth adds tersely. Dana and I slide into the back seat as I dial Chad's cell. Dana's tears are ripping at my heart as the ringing continues, ending in Chad's voicemail, and I hang up. He can't hear this via message. We're speeding through town, and as I look around us, I see that we're flanked by Sheriff's cars, their lights and sirens running.
With shaky hands, I reach over to Dana and wrap my fingers around hers. I don’t know what to say to make her stop crying. Hell, I couldn’t say it without crying myself if I did know the words.
"He's not answering," I say, the tears still flowing down. It feels as if a piece of me is missing. Rhea is a piece of me.
She is my best friend, but she is also the sister that I never had for real. We have been through so much together. She can't leave me like this. She can't leave all of us like this. NO! There is no way she is going to die; she wouldn't give up this easy.
"Call Rosa," Dana's voice is a shaky whimper and I quickly do what she says. I can't even start to fathom what she's feeling right now. She loves Rhea like a daughter. She's taken care of her for the last couple of years when her own mother was too emotionally wrecked. Rhea is pregnant with her grandson, and her son will be crushed if this doesn't turn out okay.
As the phone dials up Rosa's number, I look to the passenger’s seat and tap Harlan on his shoulder. "What hospital?" I ask, gripping my boyfriend’s hand as he reaches back. His knuckles are bloodied and split, and his eyes are rimmed in red as he wipes tears from his cheek.
"Southampton Memorial." He tries to smile, but it ends in a few more tears slipping down his cheek as I lean back into my seat, breaking our hands apart, and I miss his touch immediately.
At this speed, we’ll make it there in another fifteen minutes, but it is normally a forty-five minute trip. Rhea's doctor wanted her to deliver there, and it is the closest major hospital.
"She's gonna be fine, she has to be. You'll get to the hospital, and she'll be there smiling at you and calling you stupid for worrying so much. She'll deliver her baby boy and Chad will name him, and we'll all come home and be happy," I keep telling myself, muttering silently in my head like a crazy person.
As Rosa's phone still rings, I send out a whispered prayer, gripping Dana's hand and bowing my head. "Please Lord, I know I haven't done this nearly as often as I should, but please, please, listen to me. Don't take Rhea from us. Don't take her, or her baby, from the ones she loves and the ones who love her. Please watch over her and guide the Doctor's hands in making sure she survives. Please Lord, I'll do anything. Just please, don't let my friend die. If she does, she'll take a piece of me with her, and I don't know if I can survive that. Please Lord."
Dana squeezes my hand and whispers her own 'Amen' as Rosa's voice comes on the line, the cheeriness filling me with dread and making my eyes spill over again. Taking a deep breath in, I prepare to pass on the earth shattering news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Rosa
"Hey Kendall, how are ya, Hun?" I grin into my cell, standing at the front of Chad's truck, waiting for Reno and him to emerge from the Administrative building in front of me. The team is being de-briefed, and Reno is getting his discharge orders. I can't wait to see my husband, and as our daughter wiggles in my arms, a wide smile goes across my lips.
"Rosa, where are you?" Kendall's voice is tight when it's normally light and bubbly. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. There is something wrong, I know it.
"On base, waiting for Chad and Reno, why? Is something wrong?" Has Rhea gone into labor? No, she'd call me herself. Is she hurt? Fear starts to trickle down my spine, and I grip Marisol a little tighter to my chest.
"You need to get them and get to Southampton Memorial, now,” she says and I can hear her sniffle. She is crying. Kendall hardly ever cries. I open and shut my mouth, trying to form words when she speaks up again, this time ending in a sob. "Rhea's been shot."
"What!?" I must have heard her wrong. Did she just say that Rhea has been shot? No way. Who would shoot Rhea? She's an angel. "This isn't funny, Kendall, if you’re…”
"I'm not fuckin' joking, Rosa," she screams at me, and I freeze, my fingers tightening around my cell. "Get Chad and get to Southampton. We'll be here waiting." She hangs up. I hold the phone to my ear, in shocked silence, the dial tone ringing through my mind. This can’t be happening.
My palms are sweaty as I stare at the screen of my phone, my mouth agape, not believing. Rhea, the girl who has stood by my side at every breathing class and doctor’s appointment, has been shot? Rhea, the woman who I have watched blossom into a very excited expecting mom, has been shot? "No, no, no," I say to myself, looking to the front of the building where Chad and Reno will be exiting at any minute.
How am I going to tell him? My chest starts to heave in and out as I quickly make it to the front door, swinging it open while clutching my daughter to my chest. I feel numb. I walk up to the closest person, an officer of some sort but I don't bother to look at his name.
"You need to get Chief Petty Officer Payne for me," I say with a squeaky voice, looking into the man's eyes trying to get my fear and urgency across. I’m trying to hold back the tears, but they are right there, fighting to spring free and streak down my cheek. I need to try and stay strong for Rhea.
"They are in debriefing, I can't just..."
"I don't care!” I scream, closing my eyes and letting a few of the tears fall down my cheeks, wiping at them defiantly. "It's a family emergency. You need to go get Payne and Martinez, now please. I am Sailor Martinez's wife." I stand here, my legs shaking in urgency as the man looks me over, nodding his head in understanding and quickly walking off and disappearing.
I pace the floor of that atrium, mindlessly rocking Marisol as I mutter prayers to myself begging the Lord to let Rhea live. He needs to let her live, He can't take her. She's not ready to go.
What the hell is taking that officer so long? The building isn’t that big that is takes him this long to find them. What the fuck? Did he not get me screaming at him as urgent?
Tears are streaming down my cheeks and I don't bother to wipe them away as I hear footfalls coming my way. My pacing stops as figures come around the corner at the far end of the hallway.
"Rosa!” Reno yells, and I can see him break from the group of men headed my way. He wraps his arms around me and I sob into his shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asks, looking down to Marisol, and what should have been a sweet, tear filled moment is over shadowed by the fear for my friend.
Seeing Chad come up behind him, I take a deep breath in. "Kendall called. Rhea's been shot."
The shock rolls through the room, and I can now see that their entire SEAL team followed them, their faces all blank and brows furrowed. They are all immediately tense, their shoulders going back ever so slightly and I can feel the roll of stares directed at me.
Chad steps up, his bright blue eyes boring a hole in my face. "What do you mean?” he almost whispers, and I can see the emotions thundering through him.
His jaw is tight and his fists are balled. He is still in his desert camo. My heart is breaking for him. My heart is shattering for Rhea, praying that she is going to be okay. She has to be okay. In the short time I’ve come to know her, she’s become a piece of me. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friendship this strong. I don’t want to know what it will feel like to not have her; to not be able to call her or see her face.
"I'm sorry, Chad, that's all Kendall said." I grab Reno's hand, squeezing it tight. "She said to get you, and to get to Southampton Memorial."
A look of fear and understanding crosses over his face and the room explodes in yells and commands. I am pulled out of the room, following Reno and handing the keys to Chad's truck to Timmons. Hopefully the kid can drive fast enough and safe enough, to get us there.
I feel like I'm in a bubble of silence, the conversations not concerning me, so I take the moment to pray as the men talk between each other. Buckling Marisol into her car seat, I bow my head in prayer.
"Lord, please have mercy on Rhea. She's one of Your servants. Watch over her and keep her safe. Please Lord, don't take her."