Chapter Six

 

“What’s all this?” Carrie asked, pushing through my back door.

“Dinner for Carter,” I smiled.

She handed me a card and moved towards the meal that was on the stove. “This looks amazing.”

“I’m trying to keep it warm; he’s late,” I pouted.

“You two have become pretty close,” she acknowledged.

We had. It had been a week since we’d had sex and almost a month to the day since we’d met. I wanted to celebrate, but figured it may seem tacky or corny to Carter, so I used my acceptance into culinary school as an excuse to have a romantic night.

“I really like him,” I admitted, biting my bottom lip into my mouth.

“I know that look,” Carrie teased. “You more than like him,” she added with a grin.

I did. My feelings for him were growing fast, too fast. It was scaring me. I’d told myself I would take six months to get over Greg, and it was only a couple weeks since we’d broken up when Carter came walking into my life. How could I resist him?

My cheeks heated, and I knew they were turning pink from the stare Carrie was giving me. “It’s too soon for all that,” I scoffed.

“That’s not true. My grandma met my grandfather only six weeks before they married, and they’ve been together sixty-five years,” she boasted.

It was a story I’d heard time and time again, usually when she fell for a guy she’d just met, or had one date. “Yeah, it was nineteen-fifty, there weren’t as many options back then,” I teased.

“Oh, whatever. When you know, you know, end of story,” she snapped.

“Open your card,” she ordered.

I pulled the card from the envelope. It was a cute cat in a chef’s hat baking mice-shaped cookies. “I love it,” I said, appreciative that she’d been so supportive of me going back to school.

“Oh, so I heard Greg has a new girl, or at least that’s the rumor at the gym,” Carrie said.

It was a relief to know he was finally going to leave me alone, but still stung that she continued to go to his gym.

“Good, now maybe Carter won’t have to throw him in jail for stalking me,” I snapped.

“How late is he, anyway?” she asked, looking around at the pans all on low heat.

“About an hour,” I admitted, feeling sick as I said it aloud.

“Uh-oh,” she said, lifting her eyebrows high on her forehead.

“He’s probably just caught up at work,” I defended.

I’d been telling myself that he was just at work for the last couple hours, but it was becoming harder to believe. He’d always found time to text me while at work this past week, and I knew he’d call to ask if I needed anything before he headed my way.

Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but there was something wrong. My mind reeled with the notion that maybe he was a player. He had that perfectly sized bed, his condoms within reach for the position he had me in that first night, and the sex, my God, the sex was mind-blowing. There’s no way he learned how to please a woman like that without some serious experience: player experience.

Maybe he was bored with me already. Maybe he had a one month rule to avoid commitment.

Carrie’s phone beeped, and she quickly pulled it from her purse. I knew she was waiting on the last guy she went out with to call, but her face told me it wasn’t him when she stared at the screen. “He still hasn’t called?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, it’s just a news alert,” she said.

“A news alert? Since when do you care about the news?” I teased.

“Brian talked about current events all night long, and I didn’t have a clue. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t interested. So, I thought maybe, if he did call, I’d be ready this time,” she explained.

I tried my best not to look at her like she was pathetic, but it was tough. She was a beautiful woman, strong, smart, successful; the only thing wrong with her was her choice in men.

“So, what’s the alert?” I asked, trying to change the topic.

“Something about a bank robbery, and a standoff downtown,” she said.

My heart sank. “What does it say?” I panicked.

“I don’t know, I swiped it away,” she said.

I rushed into the living room and turned on the TV. It was all over the news. There were cop cars surrounding the small brick building, and vans, ambulances, firetrucks, and unmarked cars as far as the cameras could see. “My God, what if Carter’s there?” I gasped as Carrie’s arms wrapped around my shoulders.

I turned it up, listening to the updates as they happened. The robbery occurred several hours ago, but the news just got wind, and was blasting it on every station.

“Several hostages have been released, with only two remaining inside with what we believe to be at least three armed men,” the reporter said, her voice shaken from the chaos she was covering.

I moved back towards the couch, sitting down without taking my eyes from the TV. Carrie sat down beside me, sliding her arm over my shoulder to comfort me as I watched the mess unfold.

Gunshots went off and cops scurried everywhere. The reporter was out of breath as she ducked behind the news van, announcing what we’d all just heard. “Two gunshots, no idea if they were police or the gunmen inside,” she said, her voice still shaken.

The camera scanned the area, showing several of the officers as they readied their guns and took position. I didn’t see Carter, but in my heart, I knew he was there. “Two officers were shot by the gunmen, one in stable condition with a wound to the arm, no word on the other. They apprehended the suspects, released the hostages, and this is finally over,” she said, relief in her voice.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I gripped my phone, frantically calling Carter over and over, only to get the voicemail.

Carrie tightened her grip on me, squeezing me tightly as I glued myself to the TV, waiting for more information. My phone was gripped so tightly in my hand it hurt, but I couldn’t let go. I tried calling again; again I got voicemail.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Carrie offered her support.

The reporter looked a mess, her hair flying in the wind, her makeup smeared from her tears of fear during her coverage, but she continued on like the pro that she was, like Carter. He was a pro. I knew he was there, and I knew he’d be the one to volunteer to go in, to save those people and risk his life. He was that pro.

“Officer Harold Gehrig we’ve just learned was taken to the hospital to treat a gunshot wound to the arm; he is in stable condition and expected to be released in a few short hours,” the reporter said.

“What about the other one?” I yelled at the TV.

“We’ve not yet been given the name of the second officer shot, and have no information on his condition at this time,” she said sadly.

I knew what that meant. No name meant he was seriously hurt, or even dead. They couldn’t release his name until they notified the family. I wasn’t family. What if it was Carter? I didn’t even know where his mother lived to call and ask her, and she wouldn’t even know who I was. “I’m gonna be sick,” I said, rushing to the bathroom.

I leaned over the toilet, letting my stomach release the toxins created by the stress I was feeling. Carrie held my hair. “You can’t assume the worst,” she said softly.

“He would’ve called. He would’ve answered his phone,” I gasped, gagging out the last of my stomach’s contents into the porcelain bowl.

“This just ended. He can’t stop in the middle of a bank robbery to call you and let you know he’s okay. I’m sure he would’ve if he could’ve,” she said, handing me a cold, wet cloth for my face.

I leaned against the tub, placed the cloth on my forehead, and tried to believe her, tried to believe that Carter was okay and that he’d call any minute to tell me so himself.

My hand vibrated as my phone went off. Carter’s face lit up the screen, bringing me back from the doom I’d created as our fate. “Hello, are you okay?” I asked frantically as I answered.

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I wanted to call, but there wasn’t any time. I was afraid you’d see this mess on the news and fear the worst,” he soothed me when I should’ve been soothing him.

“I was watching. I mean, at first I just thought you stood me up, but then the news came on, and the gunshots…Carter, I thought it was you,” I sobbed into the phone.

“Naomi, baby, please don’t cry. I’m fine,” he insisted.

“They wouldn’t release the officer’s name, I thought he’d been killed, I thought it was you. They only tell the family; I’m not family, and I don’t know your family,” I rattled.

Carrie stroked my hair from my face and worked on getting me to slow down and breathe. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said.

I thought hearing his voice would’ve calmed me, but it didn’t. That feeling, that fear, it was real, it was strong, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I felt it if we stayed together. Could I handle this?

“I’m just glad you’re okay. What about the other officer?” I asked softly.

After a long pause, Carter took a deep breath, sighing into the phone. “I’m on my way over.”

The phone hung up and I fell into Carrie’s arms. “Yeah. You more than like this guy,” she whispered in my ear.

“I do,” I admitted.

“Can you handle this?” she asked.

I didn’t know. I was already questioning that myself. All I did know was I didn’t want to lose him.

“He’s on his way over,” I told her as she helped me to my feet.

I splashed cold water on my face and brushed my teeth. “I’m going to go,” Carrie said sweetly, kissing me on the cheek.

When Carter pulled into my drive, I ran to the truck, jumping into his arms before he could even unbuckle. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I didn’t. I just held him, knowing what he’d gone through was much more than what I had for those brief moments of not knowing.