Rena: Code 143

1.7

"I need to borrow your car," blinking my eyes against the sunlight and slipping into our room. Kenny's voice startled me from my peaceful sleep. I saw him move around the room swiftly, in a hurry dressed in his police uniform. "The damn truck broke down now I'm running late." He explained. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes to wake myself up. I was okay with Kenny taking the car, but...

"If you take my car, how will I get to work?" I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

"You have to go in at about twelve, right?" I nodded. "Alright, I'll just drop you off on my lunch break. Then I'll pick you up after I get off work." It wasn't the best idea because Kenny tends to stay late at his job. But I didn't feel like arguing today and I was still extremely tired.

I had a long day yesterday, looking over patient files, cleaning the house, and trying to keep my thoughts occupied. It has been a few days since the incident at the restaurant-well, it was hardly an incident. Still, it's been a while. Kenny and I haven't gotten into arguments or anything. Oddly, he was calm. Not to say he rampages usually, but surprisingly, he is tame. He hasn't mentioned creating a child lately, not that I'm complaining. Yet, I was still on edge. Kenny wouldn't hurt me, but for some reason, he seemed off. I pray that he hasn't discovered the pills hidden in the bathroom.

"Ok," I said, looking up at him. He came over and kissed my lips quickly.

"I'll see you later." He bid farewell and rushed out of the room. I heard his footsteps thudding down the stairs before hearing the front door open and then close. Alone. I was alone and still tired. I dragged my eyes toward our bedside table to the right of me and saw my phone. Leaning over, I picked it up to check the time; it was six thirty in the morning. Placing the phone back down, I rolled over and sighed. Lifting the covers up above my head, I closed my eyes.

Just a couple more hours.

I jerked awake, startled. My heart beating a mile a minute. Harsh thuds reverberated through the house. Or at least that's what it felt like to me. My head was beginning to pound as the sound of banging reached my ears.

What's happening?

Quickly jumping out of bed, I grabbed my phone and dialed the emergency services. Not yet pressed the ring button, but waiting to see at least if I was being invaded yet. I quietly shuffled out of my bedroom before nearing the stairs. The banging sounded again, but this time I could make out that it was the front door. As I went downstairs, I looked around in case something jumped out at me. I soon reached the bottom of the stairs and darted to the kitchen quickly. I didn't want to die as an idiot without a weapon. I grabbed a kitchen knife and made my way to the front door again, gripping both my phone and knife tightly. Reaching the door I called out in a deeper voice, imitating a man.

"Who is it?" Looking out the peephole, I saw who it was, sighing in relief. I unlocked the door.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me Rick." There he stood in a police uniform similar to my husband's. Rick was older than Kenny by a few years, with a grey beard and equally thin grey hair. However, he became a good friend to Kenny and me when Kenny joined the force. He was a nice Caucasian man and occasionally visited for dinner. I beckoned him in, then closed the door behind him. "Why were you pounding on the door like the FBI? Is Kenny in trouble?" I asked.

He smiled, "Well hello to you too, Missy. Don't worry, your husband is o-k, but I'm running late. Kenneth sent me to pick you up." I still don't know why Rick insists on calling Kenny by his full name. I assume it's a country thing. But why would Kenny send him?

"What do you mean? Why did he-"

"Chief needed Kenneth to do a patrol, and he said you needed a ride to work. But judging by yous still being in your pj's, it looks like you don't." I glanced at the time on my phone and gasped.