Get Your Gun and Meet Me by the Door

I sat on the couch for a few minutes, thinking about what had happened. Then it clicked. I got up off the couch and went looking for Frank. I found him in our bedroom, pacing around nervously. He stopped when he saw me in the doorway. I could see all sorts of guilt in his eyes.

"What did you do?" I asked. He looked away. I moved closer. "What did you do, Frank?"

He flinched slightly at the increase in volume of my voice.

"You shouldn't get upset," Frank said quietly. "You don't want to hurt the baby."

"Damn it, Frank," I said. "Just tell me what the fuck you did?"

"I didn't do anything," Frank said, finally looking me in the eye. I saw that what I thought was guilt in his eyes was actually a mixture of emotions. He looked worried. He knew something and he wasn't telling me.

"Then tell me what's wrong," I said, lowering my voice and trying to remain calm. Frank ran a hand through his hair pulling on it slightly.

"They caught up to us," he said quietly. I felt my blood rush from my face.

"The police?" I asked. Frank nodded.

"FBI too," he said.

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"Some guy at work was talking about it," Frank said. "He didn't know much but the description he had sounded like us."

"Then we should leave," I said. "Go to Mexico."

I started to frantically find my suitcase, but Frank stopped me.

"Come on, Frank," I said.

"We can't go anywhere," he said.

"What?" I asked. "Why not?"

"The police are stationed around here," he said. "They know where we live and the moment we leave, they'll follow us."

I felt tears slip out of my eyes and shook my head. I placed my hands protectively on my stomach.

"But the baby," I said. I started to sob. This is exactly what I had been worried about. Frank hugged me as best as he could. He didn't say anything. There's nothing that he could say that would make me feel better..and we both knew that.