He snorted and opened the door. “I guess so. When she heard there was another disturbance she said maybe she would return home for the holidays. We might be stateside for Christmas.”
I grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve gotten all month.”
“I hear ya, Coram.” He slid into the Humvee and started the engine. I climbed up beside him, cocking my rifle and looking out the window. “Do you have a girl waiting for you back home?”
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes for only a fraction of a second, picturing Carrie’s sweet smile. I opened them when we pulled forward and onto the makeshift road. “You?”
“A wife and two kids.” He drummed his thumbs on the wheel. “If I could be home for Christmas for once, I’d be quite happy.”
“I’m sure they would be, too, sir.” I scanned the shadows for any movement, but all was quiet on the western front. Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy to make when I was in this fucking place. “God willing, she’ll realize she did enough pilgrimage and we’ll be all set to go home for the holidays.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Dotter said.
“I’m not seeing anything.” I looked over my shoulder. “What was supposedly seen here?”
“We had a report of a suspicious blue vehicle, lurking by the entrance of the compound. And someone heard some loud booms.” He shrugged. “Out here, that’s not exactly the weirdest thing in the world.”
“Damn straight.” I kept looking. Nothing. “I think we can head back, sir.”
“I think you’re right, but, first, let’s go west a little more.”
I nodded and turned back out the window, watching for any signs of life. But in my head, I offered up a silent prayer that God had been listening earlier. That we were going home early, and that this nightmare would be over.
But most of all? I prayed we walked away from this fucking mess alive.
Carrie
The night of the party, I stood in front of the mirror and smoothed the maroon satin over the tulle that made it poof out underneath. Mom had picked the dress, and it so wasn’t my style, but I wore it anyway. She’d gone through the trouble of finding it, so the least I could do was wear it once before I donated it to charity.
I looked at the necklace she’d bought for me to wear with it, but I didn’t pick it up. If I wore that, I’d have to take off Finn’s necklace, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Not even for Mom.
I picked up the necklace she bought and shoved it inside the drawer by my bed. Then I went back to the mirror and studied my reflection. I looked tired and miserable. There were humongous bags under my eyes, and my cheeks looked hollowed out a little, too, no matter how much blush I applied.
But besides that, I guess I looked okay.
The dress was pretty. My hair was swept into a pretty updo that Marie had coached me through, and I had soft pink lip gloss on my lips. I picked up my phone and snapped a picture, then sent it off in an email to Finn.
He would like this dress. It looked easy enough to remove.
I waited to see if I got a reply, but none came. That wasn’t a huge surprise. Communication from him was sparse at best, but I ached to get something from him. Anything. It was the only way I had of keeping track of him.
Of knowing he wasn’t lying dead somewhere. I shook my head, trying to ditch that train of thought before it ruined my halfway decent mood. My phone buzzed and I picked it up, my heart racing. It wasn’t Finn. It was Marie. How’s it going?
I sent the picture I’d sent to Finn to Marie. Good. Do I look okay?
A few seconds, then: Geez, girl. Have you slept AT ALL?
Yeah. I tapped the phone on my chin. Okay, not much. I miss Double-oh-Seven.
As soon as I sent the message, I deleted it. She wrote back. Ah. Well, it’s almost over. Then we can have some girl time. For now, go to that party (I’m assuming you’re going to a party) and have some fun.
I smiled. I’ll try. Thanks for the pep talk.
And SLEEP.
I tossed my phone on my bed and headed for my door. The guests would be arriving soon, and I had to be there to greet them, or Mom would have a heart attack. I walked down the carpeted stairs, my hand gripping the white bannister at the end in case my heels decided to slip on the marble foyer.
Dad turned to me and smiled wide, his blue eyes lighting up. He smoothed his graying hair and held his hands out to me. “Ah, it’s my princess. Don’t you look beautiful?”
“Thanks, Dad.” I walked over to him, and he grabbed my fingers, squeezing them tight. “You look wonderful, too, of course.”
He hugged me and kissed my forehead. His familiar cologne washed over me, and I hugged him, closing my eyes as I rested against his chest. “Thanks, princess.”
“Hugh.” I heard heels come up behind me, and Mom said, “Watch the dress, you’ll wrinkle it.”
I looked up at Dad, rolled my eyes—which made him laugh—and turned to Mom. She headed toward us, Tinkerbell at her heels. Even the dog had dressed up for the occasion. She wore a red satin bow around her neck. “Well, you both look pretty. Very festive.”
Mom wore a deep crimson dress that flowed to the floor in elegant swirls, and diamonds in her ears that would probably make the Queen of England jealous. She did a little twirl, her heels clacking as she did so, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“So do you, dear,” Mom said, smoothing her dress, even though it was flawless. Tinkerbell shot between her legs, tongue hanging out in excitement. “The first guests should be arriving soon. The house staff and guards are already drinking champagne in the dining room.”
“Should I go in there with them so they’re not alone?”
Mom shook her head. “No. You should wait here and greet our guests.”
“Did you tell her that the Stapleton boy is coming tonight, Margie?” Dad nudged me with his elbow. “That’s an excellent family if I do say so myself. Their son, Riley, is going to school in San Francisco.”
Now I knew why I recognized that freaking name. That’s the guy mom had been trying to marry me off to. No wonder she’d been so nervous when she mentioned their name yesterday. This was a setup. A date of sorts.
I turned to Mom and smiled, even though it probably looked more feral than kind. Her cheeks were flushed. “Oh, how lovely. I can’t wait.”
Dad patted my arm. “You’ll like him. He has the same beliefs as us.”
Then I probably wouldn’t get along with him. But I didn’t say that. “I can’t wait,” I said, smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks.
Laughter came from the dining room, and more joined in. The house staff and guards sounded like they were having a blast. I wanted to go in there with them and sneak a drink, but I forced myself to stand still. To play the part of dutiful daughter.
Soon enough they would see it was all an act. I loved them, and I was their daughter, but I wouldn’t be their pawn. Not anymore. I pasted a smile on when the doorbell rang. Time to play the part.
“They’re here,” Mom said, clapping her hands excitedly.
“I’ll open it, you two stand there.” Dad headed for the door, his steps wide and sure. “Ready, girls?”
“Ready,” Mom said.
They were acting like this was some huge thing, but we were standing here in dresses and heels like idiots. Even Tinkerbell stood at attention, for the love of God. This is why I’d never be like my mother. I felt like an idiot—and rightly so. I mean, why were we so freaking special that we were lined up like royalty on an episode of Downton Abbey?