Fight Or Flight (Tempted Series Generation 2.0)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “Well, don’t keep him waiting,” Lauren pants.

  “I’m ready,” Riggs assures.

  “Oh, wonderful,” Maria mutters. “Whatever would we do if the camera boy couldn’t film? You do know they have phones that do this kind of thing.”

  “Thanks, Mama Leone. What would I do without you?”

  As they continue to bicker, Lauren squeezes my hand and urges me to go find Eric. Without a moment’s hesitation I turn and gaze at the sea of blue, my eyes passing over every proud soldier’s face until they finally land on my soldier.

  Standing perfectly tall, he’s the epitome of bravery.

  Of strength and resilience.

  He is the beautiful that stands tall and proud after the storm.

  My hand flies to my mouth, covering the gasp and tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision as I walk toward him. Reaching him, I touch my hand to his shoulder and step around him. Our eyes lock and his stoic face immediately breaks into a grin.

  The tears fall fast and furiously down my cheeks as I lunge for him. Wrapping his arms around me, he squeezes me with all his might, and I bury my face into his uniform. I will never underestimate the power of a hug as long as I live.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” he murmurs against my hair.

  I can’t help it, I don’t know that I can stop. The last fifteen weeks all come flooding back to me. All the lonely nights and all the worrying. The uncertainty and the longing. I’m afraid to let go because I don’t even believe he’s real.

  “Brook, look at me.”

  Sucking in a breath, I hesitantly lean back and stare up into those beautiful blue orbs.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi, my pretty little hurricane,” he says as he reaches up to cup my face. “I just want to look at you for a moment, is that okay?”

  I nod.

  “Please stop crying. I hate when you cry.”

  “They’re happy tears,” I defend as his thumbs work to rid my cheeks of any wetness.

  “God, I love you,” he rasps. Then he bends his head and takes my mouth and I swear it’s one of those kisses that make angels sing—but maybe I’m impartial.

  Someone behind us whistles and I’m pretty sure it’s Wolf. The man really is an enigma. One second you think he’s going to keel over and have a heart attack, the next he’s cheering on his grandson.

  When we finally break the kiss, Eric licks his lips and pats his pocket.

  “Will you do the honors?”

  Right—turning blue—I almost forgot.

  I tuck my hair behind my ears and reach into his pocket, but instead of the cord all the other members are pinning to their soldier’s uniforms, my hand closes around a tiny box. Those pesky little butterflies take flight in my belly and this time I don’t wish for them to go away. This time, I pray they never leave me.

  I pull the box out of his pocket and stare at it for a second. His hand closes over mine, and I lift my eyes to his.

  “How?” I whisper.

  Wolf clears his throat.

  “Never count the old guy out.”

  Eric laughs, but then he leans close and grimaces slightly.

  “I’m not sure if it’s acceptable for me to drop down on one knee, but just go with the flow, okay?”

  Laughing nervously, I nod, and he gives me the most perfect smile. It stretches across his whole face and when he winks at me, he flips open the box.

  “I once told you that every part of me was created to fit with every part of you and I believed those words then, but I’m even more certain they’re true now. These last fifteen weeks have tested me, and I don’t know that I would’ve survived without you. What I do know is that I never want to find out. From this day forward, I want to live to serve you. I’ll work every day to make you happy and make sure you feel how incredibly loved you are. And I promise you’ll never be alone because wherever I go, you’ll always have my heart. All you have to do is marry me.”

  My first.

  My last.

  My everything.

  My beautiful soldier boy.

  “Yes,” I cry, lifting on tiptoe to kiss him. Always yes. He fumbles with the ring, taking it out of the box and gently slides it on my finger. Then he kisses me again, sealing our promises. The ones we made and kept and the ones we’ll make and work to keep.

  Slowly pulling away, he murmurs against my lips. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind reaching into my other pocket, there is a blue cord missing from my dress uniform.”

  Finding it, I slide the cord around his right arm and fasten the stay-loop to the button on top of his shoulder. I check to make sure it’s secure before lifting my eyes back to him.

  “Congratulations, Soldier Boy, you’re officially noticed as an infantryman.”

  “I’m more excited to own the title of being your fiancé, but thanks.”

  He winks at me and I wrap my arms around him once again.

  I was a girl who lost her faith while watching her mom battle cancer, but God, he answered my prayers.

  He gave me the greatness of heart to see the difference between duty and Eric’s love for me.

  And when my soldier’s duty is in the field, he’ll protect him.

  He’ll be his shield and he’ll bring him back to me.

  Because near or far, we’ll be together forever.

  Standing tall and proud when the clouds clear and the dust settles.

  The brave soldier and his pretty little hurricane.

  Epilogue

  Eric

  We were married in a courthouse in Georgia the day after my graduation. There was no aisle for my dad to walk Brooklyn down, but he insisted on escorting her into the courtroom that day and he gave me my bride's hand wearing a pair of shades to hide the tears in his eyes. My brother, Robert, stood as my best man and my mom was Brooklyn’s maid of honor or in the eyes of the court, they were our witnesses.

  A honeymoon wasn’t in the cards because we only had three days before I reported to my base and we wanted to spend as much time with the family as possible. Have no fear though, the anaconda got his fair share of play those three days.

  In fact, six weeks later Brooklyn peed on a stick and you guessed it—my magical sperm got her pregnant. We weren’t all that surprised. I mean, we were going at it like rabbits and I never wore a condom. The days of suffocating the snake were over.

  He was free!

  Free at last!

  I finally understood why my mom was pregnant all the time—get your head out of the gutter—you will never hear the words sex and my mom come out of my mouth in the same sentence. But there was something amazing about looking at your wife, knowing you put a baby inside of her and in nine months she’d bring that baby into the world.

  I couldn’t stop staring at her and for three months that’s all I did.

  It’s a good thing too, because as Brooklyn approached her fourth month of pregnancy, I received orders to deploy to South Korea. Leaving my pregnant wife alone on a military base, knowing I’d miss the birth of my first child, would test my resolve far more than if I spent a lifetime encountering all the Burrows and Harfs in the world.

  But it was my turn to be strong.

  Brooklyn was an emotional wreck, and rightfully so. Those pregnancy hormones were no fucking joke. One minute she was humping my leg, the next she was crying buckets of tears. At one point I thought our baby was flipping a switch or something inside of her. It was wild and when I told my dad, he said, “Enjoy the ride, kid. It won’t be long before your wife is crying on the couch because your son is all grown up and you’re staring in the mirror wondering if you should cover all the grays with a box of that cheap hair dye she keeps under the sink.”

  It should be noted that I will never, ever dye my hair.

  But I understood what he was saying.

  Life is short and you gotta soak up those moments.

  I didn’t give a fuck about the time difference or duty—I did whatever I could to make sure I video called Brook
lyn as much as possible. In between my missions and drills in South Korea, I heard my baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

  Talk about mind blown.

  Picture being on the other side of the world when you hear the most amazing sound you’ll ever hear in your lifetime. I’m getting all choked up just telling you about it. Your man Eric is a softie in case you didn’t know.

  Back to my baby—me and Brooklyn did our best to make it work. We had our share of ups and downs, as I’m sure every military family has. Speaking of which, next time you thank your servicemen and women, look around them. If they’re sitting with their spouse or even better, their children throw up a hand and salute them too. Thank them for their service because it’s not just the men and women on the front lines sacrificing for our country. It’s the little girl who was born into the world and doesn’t know what her daddy’s arms feel like wrapped around her and her mommy who juggles every feeding and diaper change by herself.

  Oh, yeah, by the way, we have a daughter.

  Brooklyn gave birth to a beautiful baby girl four months ago. My mom and dad flew in a couple of weeks before her due date, and my mom held Brooklyn’s hand in the delivery room as she brought Laureline Montgomery into the world. I missed my little girl’s debut, but minutes after she was born, I was able to video call and see her pretty little face.

  I take it back—hearing my baby’s heartbeat is high on the list of life-altering sounds. But it didn’t hold a candle to hearing her cry. I never felt so much love as I did in that moment.

  Yeah, yeah, I know—softie.

  Whatever, man.

  I own it.

  Besides, you haven’t seen anything yet. Your man Eric is about to lose his cool all over the airport because I’m nearing the escalator. In just a few seconds I’m going to meet my daughter for the first time and because I’m not wise like my dad, I’m not even wearing sunglasses.

  There’s no saving face here.

  Not at all.

  Enjoy the show.

  Hitching my bag over my shoulder, I step onto the escalator. I don’t know when I start descending on my own, but I do. I’d fucking flap my arms like a bird if it got me to them quicker. Halfway down, I spot them. My beautiful wife and the little bundle of red, white, and blue in her arms. My pretty little hurricane and my baby.

  You’re home, soldier.

  Thank you for your service.

  THE END

  Bonus Epilogue

  Riggs AKA The Tiger

  If someone would’ve laid out my entire life in front of me and told me, Hey, Tiger, this is how it’s gonna go—I would’ve laughed in their fucking face. Let’s take a trip down memory lane with all you cool cats and dogs. First, I got my ass handed to me by that lunatic of a mother-in-law and if you think about it, that was probably a warning. You know, God’s way of saying DANGER ZONE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. But we like danger, right? For what is life without a little mayhem?

  Next came my ferocious little kitten. Boy, talk about a detour—she created a whole new highway. With those blue eyes and all that long dark hair—actually, I think it was the black framed glasses that really drew me in. I still catch a stiffy just thinking about them. Yeah, it’s those glasses that made me throw her up against that brick wall.

  People say brick wall and they think dead end.

  But for me and Kitten, we created our greatest detour of all against that wall. I can say that now, but man that kid put me through the wringer.

  When they’re little and run amuck, you think it’s cute.

  Oh, look Kitten, he flushed a toy car down the toilet—take a picture while I call the plumber.

  Babe! Quick! He taught Robert how to swing from your mother’s chandelier.

  And my personal favorite, how cute he gave his sister a haircut. My little Bella had a mullet for weeks, but man, was she adorable.

  Those were the days…the days when I thanked my beloved brother for giving me the greatest advice of my life.

  Take the detour.

  Own it.

  But the thanks didn’t stop there with those wise words.

  I got to marry the girl of my dreams, watch my son grow into a man, and I did it all while creating a beautiful little pack of cubs—none of which would’ve been possible without his sacrifice.

  For seventeen long years, I wished for a way to repay him. I donated thousands and organized rides in his honor, but it wasn’t enough. Then, I finally conceded, knowing I’d never be able to even the score in this lifetime, but in the next, I’d be there as the human shield.

  Turns out I didn’t have to wait that long. When Brooklyn and Joss showed up at Big Nose Kate’s, there was no denying who she belonged to. The second I looked into her eyes, I saw the brother I lost. I didn’t even the score, though. Brooklyn was just another one of Bones’ gifts. He was a generous motherfucker and even in death he knew what me and my family needed.

  Brooklyn completed the puzzle, and she continued the legacy—that’s why I’m here today.

  Crouching down in front of the headstone, I lay my hand on top of it and stare at the two names etched into the granite. We were the three musketeers and now I’m the lone man standing.

  “I hate that the both of you aren’t here and I’m forced to talk to a slab of stone. I mean, it’s not very cool for my image,” I joke, but there isn’t much humor to my tone.

  A shame, really, because I’m a funny guy.

  Ask anyone.

  “I hope you two are getting it on like a bunch of freaks. That your stamina matches one of a fierce predator! But back up buddy, I’ve already claimed the tiger. You can be an antelope or something. The point is, you’re going to want to hang onto your youth for as long as you can because I’m about to make you feel old as shit.”

  I reach into my kutte and pull out the photograph Lauren printed on our super high-tech printer. When your first grandchild lives in Kansas, you print every single picture your kid texts you and you decorate your refrigerator. It’s either that or you buy a fucking plane so you can visit every weekend. I don’t care how many miles that credit card is supposed to earn, we haven’t scored a free trip yet.

  Total scam.

  But, yeah, you print all the photos and then you print an extra one to show off to your friends in Heaven and you tack it to their grave so they can be just as proud of their granddaughter.

  “We’re grandparents,” I say hoarsely.

  It’s taken some time for me to own that one. But I’m the Mack Daddy of Grandpas and my Kitten has graduated from a MILF to a GILF. Granny’s gonna get railed tonight too. The Tiger is feeling frisky, and he’s got a few new mating calls he wants to try out.

  Hey, that’s kind of catchy.

  Isn’t there a Christmas song about someone’s grandma getting whacked by a reindeer?

  Coming this Christmas to families everywhere, Grandma Got Railed By A Tiger.

  Yes! I love it!

  Before I go in search for a record deal, I should probably do what I came here to do. I grab the roll of tape from my pocket and secure the photograph of our little princess to the headstone.

  “She’s perfect,” I say, giving into the smile that stretches across my face every time I see her chubby little face. She’s a perfect mix of Brooklyn and Eric. And even though those two gave me more gray fucking hair and heartburn than any one man should endure, they did me proud.

  They did all of us proud.

  I flip my shades on top of my head and look up to the sky.

  “I’ve got it from down here, but you keep doing whatever you’re doing for them up there. Look out for my boy, Bones, when he’s in the field, playing with guns and shit, keep him safe and make sure he always comes back to that little girl.”

  Fucking allergies.

  It’s no fun getting old.

  Oh, who am I kidding—I’m not old.

  But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a grandmother that needs tending to.

  Excerpt From Reckless Temptationsr />
  Riggs

  Join an MC, it will be fun, they said. But no one mentioned babysitting a bunch of mobsters or getting smacked in the head with a frying pan by one of their mothers. This shit was worse than hazing. I knew I was a prospect, and I had to eat shit for a while before I became a patched member of the Satan’s Knights, but this was fucking bullshit.

  “Does your mother know you’re part of a gang?” The Italian nutcase, Maria Bianci, asked as she climbed the stairs leading to her daughter’s apartment. It surprised me that I hadn’t killed the woman yet. I’m not going to lie, there was a time or two when I thought about it, but the bitch was mobbed up and I wasn’t a patched member yet.

  Her son, Anthony Bianci, was some wise guy in the mob and tonight he and his girl had been attacked. Bianci’s chick was the daughter of mob boss Victor Pastore, or “Mr. Soprano,” as I like to call him. Tonight was the grand opening of some fancy club of his but instead of dancing and drinking the night away they dodged bullets. How the fuck I’m in the middle of this shit, I’ll never know. Jack Parrish, the president of the Satan’s Knights, ordered me to grab “Mama Leone” over here and her grandkid, or half a grandkid, I don’t know the deal, but there was a kid and Bianci’s mother was watching it.

  I did as I was told, grabbed mommy dearest and the boy, delivered them safely to Anthony Bianci, only for him to take the kid and leave me with his maniac of a mother. Not even a thank you, Riggs. Say what you want about bikers, but these mob people were fucked. They were rude and their women were fucking violent. Imagine marrying one of these broads, she’d likely throw the fucking kitchen sink at you if you forgot to put the seat down after you took a piss. This one right here, would probably cut your balls off.

  “Well? Does she?” She asked, glaring over her shoulder at me.

  “I don’t know lady, she’s dead,” I sneered.