Page 103 of Ripple Effect
My wife’s head snaps toward mine. Her eyes, which were desolate just a moment ago, are full of fire. “You wouldn’t dare.” Libby is at the point in her pregnancy where she is craving food, and everything she wants involves chocolate as a side item. Even when she wants pickles—which is seriously gross. I power through and give it to her though. She could ask me to eat it for her, and I would. But I hold firm on this.
“All the 3 Musketeers, the Hershey’s, and if you think I won’t eat your hidden stash of Milky Way Dark…” my voice threatens.
She pouts. “That’s just wrong. You’re supposed to be pampering me.”
“I’m not taking away your peanut butter and milk,” I remind her. Next to the chocolate, she’s been living on Jif and skim milk. She can take and leave most other food—all but those three things.
“We’d be headed back for divorce court if you even thought it,” she grumbles.
Dr. Powell grins. I just shake my head. “As you can see, we don’t let each other cast blame,” I start.
Libby joins in. “And if we start to think the other one is, well, we know how to find the right way to bring each other back.”
“So, taking away chocolate works with you?” Dr. Powell asks.
“Actually, Cal goes out of his way to make sure I have everything I need. We’re just teasing.” She looks up at me like I hung the moon and the stars. My chest compresses because for so long, I received that look when I didn’t deserve it. Now, I never take it for granted. “He’d never take away anything from me.” She shifts against me restlessly.
“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned.
“Fine. Just getting more comfortable.”
“We can take a break if you two need one,” Dr. Powell offers.
“I’d rather not,” Libby says.
“Are you sure?” My hand releases hers to cup her face. I check for unusual signs of distress. Instead, I find wrenching sadness and determined resolution.
“I’m certain.” Her hand reaches up to grip my wrist as she begins to wrap up the story. “My family confirmed my identity by going public with a press conference,” she starts.
74
Calhoun
Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day October 23 2300 Hours GMT
“We interrupt your broadcast to take you to Charleston, South Carolina, where the family of Elizabeth Akin Sullivan is holding a press conference.”
My arms are crossed over my chest while my eyes are glued to the screen hanging in the center of the bridge. Josh steps up to the microphones amid the clicks of what must be hundreds of cameras in front of the gates outside the entrance of the estate, which almost drown out his voice. “On behalf of the Akin family, as well as everyone who works for Akin Timbers, I would like to confirm my sister, Elizabeth, is among the individuals presently being held for ransom on board theSea Force. We have received a formal request for her ransom.”
A flurry of questions immediately hit Josh in the face, including the one we all prepared him for. “How do you know she’s still alive?”
“Do you know who else is still alive?”
“Is anyone else confirmed dead?” That question causes a hush to whip through the crowd.
Josh turns a face haunted by fear toward the voice though it’s unlikely he can see it amid the flashing bulbs. “At the advice of federal law enforcement and legal counsel, I am not at liberty to discuss how I am aware my sister is still alive. Suffice it to say, we’re confident she is. We will do whatever is necessary to bring her home safely. On her behalf, and on behalf of those on board theSea Force, please pray for those still on board the ship.” His composure almost breaks on those last words before local law enforcement guides him off the platform and safely behind the gate.
Thorn steps up next to me. “He handled it well.”
“Yes.” Much better than I would have. I likely would have shoved my way through the reporters to wring each and every one of their damned necks.
Thorn stands silently next to me for a moment before saying, “Sam read me in.”
My jaw clenches. “It’s my fault…”
Thorn steps in front of me. “Cal, you can’t say that.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Sure, I can. She thinks I’m having an affair with her cousin’s wife, who happens to be her best friend.” I scrub my hand over my face. “I can’t do this now. Not if you want me to keep it locked in.”
