SEAL'd Trust (Brotherhood of SEAL'd Hearts)

by Gabi Moore

  “You would murder me? After we’ve had such a nice coffee date together?” I said and pretended to pout. He smiled big and broad as the sunshine.

  “Murder you? Well, easy there, we’ve only just met, I mean I haven’t even decided if I like you yet.”

  The next thing I knew he had twirled me around and clasped me by the shoulders, and before I could say anything he planted firm, soft lips against mine. I froze and then went limp under his kiss. Somehow, all his raw magnetism seemed to condense to a single point somewhere on the tip of his sweet tongue, and as he leaned down and pulled me up into him, I whimpered and kissed back eagerly. His lips were slick and soft and warm.

  He pulled back and I looked up at him, astonished.

  “There, I just wanted to get that out of the way” he said, straightening tall. “Should we get going?”

  He extended a hand and I took it, and then he guided me out of the park and back into town, where we hugged and parted ways without speaking much. Though the entire date had taken just less than an hour from start to finish, I spent all of that night tossing fevered in my bed, half resisting the dark, strange dreams quietly seeping into my mind, and half welcoming them in.

  Chapter 6 - Zack

  I can remember overhearing two of the prison guards talking one day, soon after I went in. They had been doing that kind of friendly griping that only people on lonely night shifts know how to do, and one had chuckled and said, “Man, we’re right here in prison with these fuckers. We’re all in one prison or another,” and I had smiled sourly and thought nothing more of it.

  Until now.

  The standard issue trousers and heavy-duty work shirt were at least comfortable; I’d give them that. They were dusty dark blue and made to look like an officer’s uniform, only not so flimsy or restrictive, and they felt warm against the chill night air. The 9mm Glock they had given me was in good nick but had probably never fired a shot, and it hung down heavy on my hips together with a pair of handcuffs and a flashlight, both bobbing a little as I walked all the way to that end of the corridor, and all the way back again.

  It didn’t look much like it to me, but it’s what my counsellor had called ‘progress’. It was the graveyard shift at a draughty domestic terminal at the airport, but it was also, like I remembered that old prison guard saying, a prison.

  Hands behind my back, I paced up and down restlessly like a jaguar at the zoo, and thought of her lips.

  Against the cold tiles of that terminal hall, and the darkness outside and the relentless clink clink clink of my handcuffs hanging behind me, there was one damp, hidden spot inside my mind, and that spot was the memory of her warm lips.

  I had kissed her, and for the last few days I had been feeding off that same kiss, pulling it out every few minutes, examining it, seeing that is was still hot and beating and alive, then putting it away again, shocked that I owned such a memory at all.

  “Jesus, what part of no don’t you understand?”

  I turned to find the source of a distressed female voice, and immediately saw an angry looking woman marching across the mostly empty terminal, an equally angry looking man shadowing her.

  She had been crying.

  In another life, I would have called her a ‘civilian’.

  The guy caught up to her, yanked her by the arm and spun her to him, then hissed a warning under his breath at her while she scowled and tried to wriggle herself free.

  I walked over sharply, and the guy released his grip at the sight of me.

  “Everything all right here, ma’am?” I said.

  She flashed angry eyes at the guy, then at me, then at the guy again.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said, mortified. “There’s no problem officer, I’m sorry,”

  That’s women for you. The really damaged ones are even humiliated by their own debasement. This dickhead didn’t seem to have much shame himself, and why would he, when she was doing double?

  “Ma’am, if this gentleman is harassing you…”

  The both of them exchanged a fiery, loaded glance at one another and then looked back at me.

  “There’s no problem,” the guy said. Weedy looking fucker, too. I looked at her, but she only gave me a thin-lipped smile and they both hurried off, looking embarrassed.

  As I paced over again to my area, I felt angry. Angry that he was angry. Angry that she wasn’t. She couldn’t know it, but I would have gladly torn that asshole limb from limb if she had just given the word. The Glock would stay virgin – for an asshole that treats women like that, only a swift, thorough beating would do. Men like him were animals, and what they deserved was a fist, not a bullet.

  I watched them scuttle off.

  Then I got sad.

  That would probably be the most exciting thing to happen to me that night. I paced to the edge of the corridor and paced all the way back again. I wouldn’t go home for another two hours. Fuck, I hated this.

  Instead of taking out my kiss memory and examining it again, I found myself thinking of my ex instead. When she had looked at me, had she really seen nothing but a pushy, weedy guy, the same as the one I had just politely warned?

  I clenched my fists in my pocket and paced harder. She was in the past now, fuck her. I had done my time, my slate was clean and even if there were some smears of her left on my heart, I was done with all of that. In the eyes of the state, according to law, I was a free, redeemed man.

  And later on, I’d go home and put myself away and to sleep in a little room with a quilted duvet cover and a Virgin Mary on the wall and move another day further from her. What more could she possibly want from me? One prison to another. Fuck them all. I’d serve out my second, longer sentence out here in the world, and I’d guard against remembering her whenever I could, but hell, I guess I didn’t have to like it.

  Against my clenched fist, I felt the buzz and ping of my phone. A message from Maddy. I paused for a second before opening it. She didn’t message often, but those sweet little bubbles throughout the day were precious to me, and I wanted to savor them.

  Maddy: We still on for tomorrow? Jasper says he’s packed and ready for his new home :)

  The phone buzzed again in my hands and a picture appeared of a black kitten with a desperately cute, worried face, nose poking out from inside a little carry bag of cat toys and blankets.

  I had only known Maddy – in the flesh, at least – for two weeks, and already she was filling my world with warm little bubbles. And with kittens. Must be nice, I guess, being a vet and swanning around without a care.

  I wrote her back.

  Zack: My mom will love him to death. Can’t wait to meet him!

  I hit send and slid the phone back in my pocket.

  Women can be prisons, too. I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing with her, to be honest. Did I really want to get involved? Get drawn into a big… relationship? I tried not to think about it. So I thought about other things.

  In my imagination, my security guard uniform morphed into a kind of samurai’s outfit, and my firearm into a ruthless sword. The random people straggling in and out of the terminal were all innocent civilians, fearful and helpless in the face of a vast war that was unfolding around us all, and I stood, heart filled with vengeance and a howling lust for the blood for my enemies, for true justice, for the glorious chance to cut down an army of weedy, simpering men, one by one, with my sword.

  The walls of the building crumbled and fell away, and all that remained was a platform, floating in outer space, only the stars there to witness a clash of unspeakable proportions. My real weapon would be my body, not clothed in regulation overalls but wild and free, and my sword would be my singular, divine instrument, slicing away at closed doors and locked rooms, forever…

  My phone buzzed and shook me from my daydream.

  Maddy: I hope Jasper’s not the only one you’re looking forward to seeing tomorrow… :D

  I read the message, put my phone away again.

  In my fantas
y world, there were no coffee dates. No dating apps or ironed flat shirts or manners. In my fantasy world, I didn’t ask Madeleine which way she wanted to go at the fork in the road in the park. I just picked her up and carried her off with me into the shady grove of trees, far away from the city, and held her there, and gave her exactly what she needed.

  Chapter 7 - Madeleine

  I loved this feeling. Just on the threshold of sleep, on the verge of almost, almost waking up. As long as I squeezed my eyes shut and kept still and quiet, I could draw out that slow waking feeling, and sort of ooze and ease into the day. And there was something sexy about it too.

  I’d been nothing but a cloud since he kissed me. All weightless and floating around and filled with sun, and the memory of his lips was best in the early mornings just before I woke up.

  In my half dreamy-mind, I saw the tiny triangle of tanned flesh at his neck, and imagined slowly peeling it away, to reveal that broad, muscular chest underneath. When he had hugged me, I had felt it press firm against me but for now that part of him existed only in pictures.

  Nestled in the blankets, only one or two morning rays poking through the drapes, I slid a curious hand down over my belly and slipped it between my legs. A new discovery: just the thought of him could make me wet. I slipped careful fingers over the nub of my clit and rubbed sleepily, stroking up those sensations he had first put there that day in the park when he tilted his head and slain me with that cheeky grin of his.

  The animals were probably all still snoozing, and the house was mercifully quiet. I exhaled loudly and nuzzled my face deeper into the pillows. I never wanted to wake up, if it meant staying here in this dreamy haze with him a little longer.

  “Can’t even wait to get started, huh?”

  My heart stopped. I jumped so quickly out of bed I nearly flew, yanking the covers with me and screaming in panic at the alien voice that had appeared in my ear a second before.

  Alex.

  It was fucking Alex, curled into a ball on one side of my bed, smirking like the Cheshire cat.

  I stood on the far side of the room, speechless. Like I was going to throw up. Or cry.

  It had been almost 3 full months now since we had broken up. How long had been lying there like that? Had he…? Had he been watching me while I slept, while I… touched myself?

  “What are you doing in here?” I said coldly. I felt the rage prickling at the back of my throat, bitter. He smiled and tucked the sheet round himself, looking very pleased with himself.

  “Was I interrupting anything?” he asked with mocking eyes, and I realized with horror that he had been watching me. I felt violently ill, and pulled the covers tighter around me. He already knew I was naked under those covers, but I pulled them tightly round me anyway, so tight I’m sure my knuckles whitened with the effort.

  “You… you have no right to be in here, Alex. Just get out. I have to work,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it.

  I hated how shaky my voice sounded. I wanted nothing but for him to take his stupid face and his stupid grin and get out… so why did I sound so unsure when I said so?

  “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

  I could feel my skin begin to sweat under the covers. If I dropped the blankets now, I could probably run and make it to the kitchen door and slam it closed. But then I’d be naked. And I’d still have to run past him. I tried to think if I could run to the bathroom instead, and shut myself in there. If it came to it. I gulped and tried to think. Alex had a way of making you picture the worst-case scenario.

  “If you don’t get out I’m calling the police,” I said, my voice a little firmer now.

  His grin stuck to his face. He looked me up and down.

  “Can you just chill out? I thought I should just speak to you in person, you know?”

  I laughed bitterly. “You have to leave now.”

  “Have you found someone else, baby? I don’t get it.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Alex, don’t call me baby like that. We’re broken up. I’m sick of this,” I said, hearing the threat of tears as I spoke. With him, I never knew if I was more tired or more scared. Tired of being scared, maybe.

  His expression hardened.

  “So you have then? You have found someone else?” he sat up in the bed and my breath twisted inside me.

  “Even if I have, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re not together anymore.”

  He peeled off the covers and climbed out of the bed, like a spider, and took a few steps towards me. He was fully dressed, right down to his scuffed Converse trainers. I hated him for that. For getting into my bed with shoes on. How the fuck had he gotten inside? Didn’t it mean anything to get locks changed anymore?

  His upper lip curled a little as he looked me over again, this time with something nasty in his expression.

  “Do you think that just because some losers show you a little attention, that you’re hot shit all of a sudden? How many people are you screwing anyway? Tell me. God, you always were in such denial.”

  He came round the side of the bed, killing my hopes of dashing past him and out of the house. I felt my blood pumping cold through my veins, but I tried to stare him down. To keep my calm. Underneath the soft duvet, I was ready to fight him. Or die trying.

  “Do you get that? Can you actually understand that most guys just want to use you?” he said, stepping closer still, so close I could smell the sourness on his breath. “Guys just use girls like you, Maddy, for fuck’s sake, think.” He curled his forefinger and tapped hard on my forehead.

  I winced and pulled back.

  He laughed.

  “Don’t give yourself airs, baby. You’re a pushover and you don’t know what’s good for you. Tell me… tell me how many guys you’ve been dumb enough to fuck since we went on our break? Huh?” He turned his head to the side, making me think of some kind of deranged parrot.

  “My sex life is none of your business, Alex. Get. Out,” I spat, the words taking every last shred of courage I had.

  My therapist had coached me about conversations like this. I was wiser now. Stronger. And I now knew what to call these little episodes: abuse. I knew that I didn’t have to do this anymore. That Alex had problems, and that they weren’t my problems. But still, the words stuck in my throat and needed to be forced out.

  His facial features tightened.

  “You’re pathetic,” he hissed, and smiled as he watched me squirming. In an instant, he had yanked the covers away from me, tossing them aside. My nails burned where I had clawed at the fabric, and now I stood naked and cold, the warm Zack-flavored feelings between my legs completely evaporated.

  He took a step back and looked me up and down.

  God, I hated him.

  My phone was on the opposite bedside table. I could make a dash for it and try to call someone, but who? And what would happen, once I tore off? Alex was an animal – and I didn’t want to activate his prey instinct. My body coiled up inside itself. He was not going to pour poison onto me again. Not again. Not today.

  “Christ, have you gained weight or something?” he said, and shook his head.

  I took a deep breath and tried to squirm away from his gaze, casually making a move toward the bedside table. He thrust out his arm and blocked my way. I would have rather died than let my bare body touch him. So I recoiled.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I was done talking to you,” he said, with the same twisted mouth.

  “Alex, I will not allow you to bully me like this. I’m going to call the police.”

  The words felt like a miracle to say, but the sad truth is that they weren’t all that magical. He just kept staring at me all the same. His eyes just glided over me again and again. I squeezed my eyes shut as he extended a hand and stroked a long, horrible line down from my ribcage to my navel. I had nowhere to go. I was backed into a corner and couldn’t run. I wanted to cry. He saw my reaction to this and smirked.

  “God, I’m just trying to be nice here, can
you not be so rude? You always were so dramatic,” he chuckled, and repeated the same movement, this time drawing it out. The word ‘no’ stuck in my throat, choking me.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” I mumbled, and instantly hated myself for saying it.

  Did I have to be so fucking weak? The flash of anger on his face was too quick for me to process. All at once, his fist came flying through the air and landed hard against my cheek, knocking me dizzy. The room spun as I realized with horror: he’d hit me.

  Hard.

  His lips were curled again as he looked at me with disgust.

  “I told you not to flatter yourself. I’m not going to lie, I definitely thought about it on the way over here. You know, for old time’s sake. But fuck me if you’ve turned into a goddam whale. You make everything difficult, you know that? I can’t even bring myself to try.”

  He turned on his heel, kicked the blankets aside and went to stand on the other side of the room.

  Slowly, a painful ache began to radiate through the bones of my cheek, but my fingertips shook so much when I lifted them to touch the skin that I couldn’t tell if I was bleeding or not. For a second, the room went quiet and all I could hear was the pump of my heart in my ears. It hurt like hell. How the hell had he gotten inside?

  “Why did you have to go and mess everything up, Maddy? Everything was fucking perfect,” he said, and as he screamed that last word he upended my bedside table with a kick and sent it flying across the room, my phone with it. Benji started barking outside.

  “Please just leave,” I said with a shaky voice.

  His face was dripping with poison as he looked me over, shook his head and slowly backed out of the room.

  Benji was still barking nervously as I heard Alex bluster out of the kitchen and slam the front door. With keen ears, I made out the sounds of him getting into his car, starting the ignition and taking off.

  I stood frozen all the while, cradling my splitting cheek in one hand, naked, staring down at the discarded blankets that only a moment ago had been a safe cocoon for me, a place where if I closed my eyes and imagined it hard enough, Alex didn’t exist.