Page 16 of Missing Marcus

“Speaking. What can I do for you?” he asked bluntly.

“I’m Jennifer, calling from Seattle Health. You’re listed as Gabrielle Hutchins’ emergency contact. I’m calling to inform you she was involved in an accident.”

His gut wrenched as his heart jumped in his throat.Gabby was here. “What happened? Why didn’t she call me?” he demanded.

“They’re running a few tests on her now. Come to the ER desk when you arrive and we can direct you where to go.”

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. How is she?” he asked desperately.

“I’m afraid I’m unable to give out information on the phone. When you arrive, someone will update you.”

“Thanks.” He hung up the phone and pressed the gas harder, racing toward Seattle. His heart pounded as he ran the call through his head. They refused to tell him about her condition. Did she die? No. Not dead or they would have used police to notify. Did she get gravely injured? He winced at thinking of seeing her in pain as he sped to her. Why didn’t she tell him she came to Seattle? Did she not want him to know?

Questions flooded his system as he entered Seattle and navigated his way to the hospital. He jumped out of his truck and ran inside. He only prayed it wasn’t too late.

11

Knight waited impatiently at the ER desk while the nurse triaged her next patient. He didn’t wait for niceties when she turned and motioned him toward the desk.

“I’m Marcus Hutchins. I received a call saying they brought my wife, Gabrielle Hutchins, here. They said she was in an accident,” he rushed.

“Yes, Mr. Hutchins.” She tapped a few keys on her keyboard. “They moved her to the sixth floor. You’ll need to show your ID when you arrive at the desk.”

Knight nodded as he raced to the floor. The elevator took too long and he sprinted up the stairs. When he arrived, he went straight to the desk and pulled out his wallet. “I’m Marcus Hutchins. Where’s my wife, Gabrielle?”

The nurse took his ID and checked it with the notes on the computer. “She’s in room 604. I’ll page the doctor and he’ll review your wife’s condition with you.”

Knight raced down the hall and stood in the doorway. The woman in the bed turned, and he noticed the swell of her stomach. He stepped back and glanced around, noticing for the first time he stood in the maternity ward.Gabby was pregnant?

Reeling from the shock, he barely noticed the doctor walking toward him.

“Mr. Hutchins. I’m Doctor Webber. Let me assure youyour wife and baby are doing well. She suffered a broken arm and she’s pretty banged up. Her left shoulder appears badly bruised and will heal with time. She has a few abrasions, two of which needed stitches. Mrs. Hutchins mentioned a doctor’s appointment in two weeks with her OBGYN. She’ll need to make it for next week. I’m keeping her overnight because her blood pressure remains high. She needs to avoid stress. Maybe since you arrived, she’ll calm down a bit more.”

Knight nodded. “Excuse me. Can you tell me how far along? I recently returned from deployment,” he lied.

The doctor appeared confused but answered the question. “According to her medical records, she’s twenty-four weeks.”

Knight swallowed. Twenty-four weeks. He knew the date. Gabby asked him to keep December twentieth free. She seemed excited. With the Christmas season upon them, he figured she bought a gift she wanted to give him early.

He met with his CIA contact in the morning and jumped in his truck to return home when Mr. Black called him. They greenlighted his mission. Hanging his head, he turned the truck around and drove back to base. When he arrived, the men prepped to spin up when new intel came in. Marghai slaughtered twelve women in the village as a message to anyone giving intel. The CIA showed the brutal photos. The images haunted him, knowing he played a part in their murder. If Knight discovered him sooner, after months of searching, he might’ve saved those women.

When he parked his truck in the driveway, he noticed all the lights turned off. Gabby always left one on in the front window to welcome him home. It appeared as if she no longer cared. He wanted to apologize to her. She never complained about his deployments. But the last few months she viewed him in a different light. The fun and lighthearted Gabby accepted his excuses and then walked away. Or they fought over something stupid like who did the laundry or where to go to dinner.

He silently made his way into the house and he heard the hiccup from her crying. Knight pressed his forehead against the wall. He accepted this job for Gabby and everything he did worked against him. Entering the bedroom, he felt desperate to show her how much he loved her. Unable to discuss his mission with her, he suffered in silence as the images of the women haunted him.

Gabby didn’t refuse him when he stroked her until she came on his fingers and he entered her slowly. Still dazed from crying, she sighed like a kitten when he slid inside and the dam broke within him. The vision of Gabrielle lying lifeless and bloodied in the street filled his vision, and he wanted to tear the monster apart with his bare hands. When he came, Knight slowly slid out and covered her with the blankets as he headed to the bathroom. He returned to the bedroom and watched his wife sleep. His jaw hardened as he recalled those gruesome photos of someone’s wife, mother or sister. Determined to give them justice, heal his marriage, and finish the job, he dressed in the dark and returned to base.

His thoughts jerked back to the present as he stared at his wife with a bandaged arm protectively over her protruding belly. When did Gabrielle sleep with the other man he discovered her with? Doubts plagued him as he remembered walking in on her in their bed. Did he play a part in pushing her away? No. He didn’t turn out like his dad. He provided her with a nice house, a car, and free reign on the bank accounts. Gabby didn’t suffer while he hunted terrorists. Then why did she cheat?

12

Gabby moaned as she rolled over. Her left shoulder ached and her arm throbbed like hell. She sat up on the bed, hissing as she moved.

A nurse walked in and put a breakfast tray down on the table. “Dr. Webber will make his rounds in about an hour. I thought you might like something to eat.”

“Oh. Do you think he’ll discharge me today?” she asked as the nurse moved the table closer.

“I’m sure he will. He spoke with your husband last night and reminded him to make your follow up doctor’s appointment for next week,” the nurse informed her. “Do you have the number? I can set up the appointment for you?”

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