Chapter 4
Evan came out first.
Rachel was right behind him.
I hadn't seen my wife in nine months.
For countless nights, I had imagined running toward her.
Holding her.
Kissing her.
Instead, I stood behind my living room wall while my brother looked through the blinds.
"They're coming in."
Charles whispered,
"Marcus, don't lose control."
I turned toward him.
"Don't tell me what to do in my own house."
Mom grabbed my arm.
"Please."
I looked at her frightened face.
That was enough.
I wasn't going to give Rachel anything she could use against me.
Not anger.
Not violence.
Not one mistake.
I stepped into the middle of the living room.
The front door opened.
Rachel rushed inside.
She stopped when she saw me.
For one second, she looked exactly like the woman I married.
Beautiful.
Familiar.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Marcus?"
Then she ran toward me.
I stepped back.
She froze.
That hurt her.
Good.
"Baby, I can explain."
I laughed quietly.
"Everybody keeps saying that."
Evan entered behind her.
My best friend wouldn't meet my eyes.
He looked older than when I left.
Tired.
Nervous.
Guilty.
I stared at him.
"You."
"Marcus."
"Don't."
He stopped.
Rachel glanced around.
She saw Mom.
Andre.
Then her father.
Her expression changed.
"What did you tell him?"
Charles stood.
"The truth."
Rachel's face twisted.
"You promised me!"
"I promised to help my daughter."
"You are helping me!"
"No."
He shook his head.
"I was helping you avoid consequences."
Rachel stared at him.
Then she looked at me.
"Marcus, whatever they told you—"
I held up the folder.
"Which part?"
She went pale.
"The apartment?"
Silence.
"The money?"
Her eyes dropped.
"The fake company?"
Evan shifted toward the door.
Andre moved in front of it.
I continued.
"The loans with my signature?"
Rachel's lips trembled.
"Marcus—"
"Or should we talk about the insurance?"
That did it.
Evan looked at Rachel.
She looked at him.
Neither had expected me to know.
I stepped closer.
"Two million dollars."
Rachel shook her head quickly.
"It isn't what you think."
"What do I think?"
"It's financial planning."
I almost smiled.
"Financial planning?"
"For military families."
"Stop."
"Marcus—"
"Stop talking to me like I'm stupid."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You were gone."
I stared at her.
That sentence landed harder than the others.
"I was deployed."
"I know."
"No."
My voice cracked.
"You don't get to say I was gone like I abandoned you."
She looked down.
"I didn't mean it that way."
"Then how did you mean it?"
She couldn't answer.
I looked at Evan.
"What about you?"
His jaw tightened.
"This got out of control."
I nodded slowly.
"When did it start?"
He looked toward Rachel.
I snapped,
"Look at me."
He did.
"When?"
"Two months after you deployed."
I felt something inside me die.
Two months.
Rachel had still been sending me photos.
Care packages.
Love letters.
Two months.
"Was the affair before or after the company?"
Neither answered.
"Answer me."
Rachel whispered,
"Before."
Mom closed her eyes.
I looked at Evan.
"You stood beside me at my wedding."
He swallowed.
"I know."
"You hugged me before I left."
"I know."
"You told me you'd watch my family."
His eyes turned red.
"I know."
"And you did."
He looked away.
I wanted to hit him.
Every muscle in my body demanded it.
But that would give them exactly what they needed.
So I stood still.
Rachel stepped toward me.
"Marcus, please."
I backed away.
"Don't touch me."
She began crying.
"I'm sorry."
"For which part?"
"All of it."
"You weren't sorry yesterday."
She froze.
"You weren't sorry when you called your father."
Her crying stopped.
"You weren't sorry when you talked about me signing insurance documents."
Evan muttered,
"Rachel..."
She turned.
"Shut up."
I noticed it.
Fear between them.
Not love.
Not anymore.
Something had changed.
I looked at Evan.
"Why are you scared?"
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
Rachel stepped in front of him.
"This isn't about him."
"It became about him when he moved into an apartment with my wife."
Evan suddenly said,
"We need the money."
Rachel spun around.
"What are you doing?"
He ignored her.
"We owe people."
"I know."
"No."
He shook his head.
"You don't understand."
He looked toward Charles.
"Did you tell him?"
Charles said nothing.
"Tell me what?" I asked.
Evan rubbed both hands over his face.
"The lenders aren't regular lenders."
Rachel snapped,
"Stop talking."
"Why?"
"Because you're making it worse!"
"It's already over!"
His voice exploded.
The room went silent.
Then Evan turned to me.
"We borrowed money to cover the company accounts."
"How much?"
"One hundred eighty thousand."
Charles whispered,
"You told me one fifty."
"It grew."
I stared at him.
"Who did you borrow from?"
Evan swallowed.
"A guy named Curtis Vale."
Andre frowned.
"I've heard that name."
Charles did too.
His face changed.
"Why?"
Andre looked at me.
"Local businessman."
Evan laughed bitterly.
"That's what he calls himself."
Rachel crossed her arms.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters if he's threatening my family."
"He isn't."
Evan looked at her.
"Stop lying."
That made Rachel nervous.
I caught it.
"What threat?"
Evan's voice dropped.
"He said if we didn't repay everything by next Friday, he'd collect another way."
Mom whispered,
"What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photo message.
I opened it.
My blood turned cold.
The picture had been taken minutes earlier.
It showed the front of my house.
All of us were visible through the living room window.
Below it were seven words.
WELCOME HOME, SERGEANT CARTER.
WE SHOULD TALK.
I walked to the window.
Across the street, a dark sedan pulled away.
Rachel stepped beside me.
For the first time since she arrived, she looked genuinely terrified.
"Marcus..."
I looked at her.
"What did you bring to my house?"
She didn't answer.
Then another message appeared.
This one included a photograph of Mom leaving a grocery store yesterday.
And beneath it:
May you like
FRIDAY.
OR YOUR FAMILY PAYS FOR YOUR DEBT.
