I Never Asked You To Save Me: Book 3 The Wakefield Romance Series

by Hewitt, Theresa Marguerite

  I can see one of the groups ‘terms’, our nickname for interrupter, up a couple of spaces conversing with a group of men. The same old questions with the same old answers. Have you seen anything? Do you know where the IED’s are? It turns my stomach as the men shake their heads, denying any knowledge; when I know that they would just as soon rather kill us right here, right now. Don’t get me wrong, there are those who are thankful that we are here, but the majority dislikes us. They look at us like monsters, disturbing their way of life. We are just mere tyrants to them.

  They don’t want us here as much as some of us dislike being here. It’s our job. This is what we do, what we love to do and we just suck it up and do it. We take their nasty looks, muttered curses and thrown rocks in stride. We learn what really means the most in life and when we get back to the states, we live it up. We cherish the friendships that were just every day before. We connect with those friends from the past and don’t hesitate to make new ones. Being here changes you.

  “We got something over here Lieutenant,” I hear come over the radio and I snap out of my musing. We all stop what we‘re doing, waiting for instructions with our guns at the ready, scanning the crowd. The other Team was three streets over already, meandering their way through abandoned buildings that were marked for inspection. The LT waves me forward and I nod to Uclid, seeing him hand off the cheap little yo-yo to one of the little boys he was playing with.

  The Grunts fall into line and we make it back to the Hummers in less than a minute, getting in and roaring off to meet up with the others. As we pass a group of children, they smile and wave with one hand, yelling for us to throw them candy or coins. When we don’t they pull out the other hand that was behind their backs and whip rocks at our passing vehicles. “Damn demon kids,” I hear the Lieutenant issue and a few of the Marines laugh, but I just shake my head. I’m so sick of this place.

  Weaving through the crowds of people and dodging the darting children and dogs makes what would have been a minute march into a two minute drive as the grunt driving swears and yells at everything and everyone in his way. Over the radio as we pull up in front of the building where the other Team is located I can hear the members describing a suspicious group of locals to the lieutenant.

  “Sounds like just a bunch of guys trying to get away from their women,” jokes Uclid as our boots hit the dirt, the rancid smell of urine and rotting garbage hitting my nose as I make my way around the front of the vehicle to stand beside the LT.

  “At least they have a woman,” one of the Marines jabs back and everyone, including me, laughs. Elliot swears at all of us, throwing out a handful of insults ending in a rib on me about Ellie, but I just laugh it off.

  “Heads together boys,” the lieutenant orders and we all go silent, straight into combat mode. One mistake, one slip up can mean you or your buddy’s life, so when in an un-known situation we need to be on our toes. Taking up a position behind the LT and in front of Uclid, I follow the snake pattern into the building, my M4 tight to my shoulder.

  Checking the rooms in formation as we get to the other Team is like clockwork. Check the corners. Check behind the doors. Keep your eyes and ears open with your wits about you. Passing a large graffiti covered wall and weaving to my right we meet up with the other Marines, who have seven kneeling Afghan males before them. They are all facing the far wall chattering amongst themselves.

  “What ya got KK,” the lieutenant asks one of the men as I survey the room, peeking out the windows and seeing the street below. Standing just down the street are three men, talking close together, looking and making arm gestures up to where we are. It makes me think. It makes that ever-present skeptical bone itch in my body and I turn to face the room again.

  As the terms question the men, Uclid and I stand in the hall joking back and forth with some of the grunts. “Yeah, well Timmons here has been ‘ga-ga’ over this girl back home,” Uclid jabs at me and I mock chop him in the neck. “He’s got it so bad that half the time he can’t function.” As all of them laugh I look back to the kneeling men and note how nervous one of them looks. He’s sweating profusely.

  “Yeah, well at least I have a prospect,” I puff out my chest, sticking a verbal knife in the always open wound of Elliot’s love life, or rather lack thereof. They joke and jab, but their banter fades as I focus back in on that one man. His scraggly beard is dusted with dirt and his clothes are tattered and torn, filthy through and through. The sweat is just pouring down his forehead as his dark brown eyes dart from right to left, not staying put for more than ten seconds at a time. The others aren’t sweating as bad as him. There’s something up.

  As I step closer into the room, only an arm’s length away from Uclid and the grunts, I hear the most un-mistakable sound ever. It’s like a baseball being hit with a metal bat, but muffled. The air seems to thicken and as I look at the ground I hear the first “Grenade!” alert, spotting the round orb only a step away.

  I’m not thinking about me, the grenade is close to Uclid. Not caring where I am in relation to the explosive, I plant both of my hands on Elliot’s vest, shoving back as hard as I can. He’s one of my best friends. He’s my Team mate.

  I can see him falling back as the flash of light fills my vision. Pain shoots up my leg and through my back as bits and pieces of debris pelt the back of my neck and face. I can feel myself being thrown through the air, then hitting something hard and unyielding. My ears are ringing. High pitched and screaming, making my head feel like it’s vibrating. I’m numb. I’m cold. Everything is dark.

  I hope Uclid is okay.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Virginia Beach

  Ellie

  “Who the hell opens a nightclub on a Sunday?” I complain as Melody shoves a few more pins into my hair, trying to tame the short locks into an elaborate display that I had tried to protest. Sitting in the massive bathroom of Marco’s Virginia Beach penthouse, I look into the mirror to see her push one more pin into place and then hear her sigh in happiness.

  “Marco Patuli does hun,” she smiles, tapping me on the shoulder telling me to get up from the stool. Standing and stretching, I spy the dress I’m supposed to wear and let out a moan of my displeasure. Melody taps me on the butt as she takes the stool to do her makeup and I slump into the huge bedroom, pulling the designer dress from the bed.

  It is royal blue, three quarter length sleeved and covered (and I mean covered) in sequins. I can just tell it’s going to be itchy and as I unzip the side so that I can pull it on without damaging it, my dislike of the dress grows. It’s a short dress to begin with, but it has a slit up the right thigh. As I shimmy it up into place, tugging on the zipper, I notice the slit comes all the way up to my hip bone. Guess I won’t be doing too much sitting tonight and if I do I’m going to have to remember to angle myself to the right.

  “Besides, we don’t have to work tomorrow,” I hear Mel mumble from the bathroom and I nod to myself, silently agreeing. Looking at myself in the full length mirror, I gently run my fingers over my dark hair, smoothing out a few flyways’. Then I lean in close to make sure my blue-green eyes are framed just the way I like them in liner and shadow. Finally I smooth out the sequins in the dress by running my hand down over my hips, doing a turn and sighing heavily. Slipping into the matching stilettos Marco had set out; I click my way back into the bathroom getting a whistle from Mel.

  “Okay, but I’m probably going to take a cab back before either of you. I still have a headache.” I rub my temples, trying to ease the slight pounding. Sure, I was playing it up for a little more than it really was, but they don’t need to know that.

  I’d rather be back in my bed on this Easter evening rather than going to a club at eleven o’clock. I had gotten up early and gone to church with Rhea, Chad and little Charlie, then had a nice lunch at their house with Dana, Kendall and Harlan. I’m exhausted.

  “Oh stop you’re belly achin’ and take this,” Melody gripes, holding her hand out to me with her perfectl
y manicured bright pink nails. I give her a raised eyebrow in return and she bumps her mocha skin into mine, prying my hand open and dropping two tiny pills in my palm. Starring down at the little pink tablets, I look back up at her with my mouth open ready to question her.

  “Just take them and be quiet.” She smiles, returning to applying her makeup. “They’ll make the headache go away.”

  “Are they aspirin?” I ask, still not wanting to put these strange looking things in my mouth. I’m not saying that I don’t trust my friend and co-worker, but I know she’s into some drugs and I’m not feeling that. As I bring my palm up to get a closer look, the two little pills look more and more like generic baby aspirin, easing my nerves that had spiked at first.

  “Yeah. Aspirin,” she mumbles as she slides bright red lipstick across her lips, rubbing them together and giving a loud pop as she inspects them in the mirror. As she runs her pinky along the edge of her bottom lip she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, pushing a small glass of water my way on the countertop. “Well? Go on and stop complainin’.”

  “Alright, alright,” I mumble, sticking my tongue out at her as I take the pills, drinking the glass of water as she babbles on about the new club Marco is opening tonight. I just wander back out into the bedroom and plant myself on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish.

  Marco’s new club was named ‘Legacy Lounge’ and situated right on the beach amongst other clubs and restaurants. In the advertisements it stated that it is ‘the hottest place in town’ offering ‘top bottle service and exquisite décor’. It has one of the largest dance floors in the area as well as an enormous horseshoe shaped bar. Melody and I had stopped in earlier, letting Marco know we were heading to his penthouse but he was too busy running around like a crazy person, bossing everyone around. He spared us kisses on the cheek and enough time to hand us the keys and then he was off again, yelling and shouting, rolling up the sleeves of his European tailored dress shirt.

  “Alright girl, you ready to dance the night away?” Melody smiles and I take in her outfit. Since she’s taller than I am, the six inch heels she has on making her tower over me, the bright red of her skin tight dress reflecting off of the light colors of the bedroom. She gives me a little spin and I just laugh at her. Her pastel pink hair is curled and pinned to the side, studded with the jeweled hair pins Marco had set out with her outfit. That’s another good thing about Marco. He knows how to pick out clothes to make us look damn good.

  Down into the ornately decorated front room, I spy the car waiting for us at the curb. Right on time. Yet another reliable and great thing about my boss.

  Grabbing my little clutch and sharing the hallway mirror with Mel as we do one last makeup check, we take each other’s hands and laugh about the night to come on the way out to the black Lincoln Town car. The lights of the Virginia Beach scene pass us by as we immerse ourselves in the bottle of Dom Perignon that was chilled and waiting for us. My headache seems to be going away, even though like I said, it wasn’t as bad as I had played it up to be, but I’m still thankful that it’s leaving.

  I know Bobby’s apartment is somewhere nearby; we had talked about it once. Sitting and listening to Melody sing along with the radio, I zone out and can’t help but think of him. His killer smile that seems to make my knees weak even now just thinking about it. His awesome hazel eyes that looked at me out of amazement the night of the party when I climbed into bed with him. I can feel the smile creep onto my lips when I think about how good it felt to have him hold me and the way I had to fight the urge to tilt my head up and meet his lips with mine when I felt them touch my hair.

  As we pull up to the curb I can see the spot lights spinning into the night air and the lines of people waiting to get into the new ‘Legacy Lounge’. I feel like a rock-star when an usher opens the car door and helps us out, having us wrap our arms around his as he leads us past the large lines, the velvet rope and through two large glass paneled doors. Just like Marco’s style, the doors are inlaid with gold leaf spelling out the name and covering the handles.

  The music is pounding throughout the club, shutting off any chance of talking normally to Melody as the usher leaves us at the coat check. Looking to my friend, a giddy little smile splays across both of our faces as we take in the packed scene. Marco has outdone himself, again. I think this club might even rival his Las Vegas one and as I hand the man my clutch, taking a ticket in return, I turn in a slow circle surveying the room. Red, blue and purple where the dominant colors played across the walls and floor in fabulous patterns, along with swirling through the air from the lights above.

  Mel takes my hand again, leading me through the dancing and talking crowds to the bar. During our visit earlier it had just looked normal, but now in the lowered lights it was fantastic. Lighted from underneath, the gold tones glowed as if it was on fire. The bar top had lighted tiles embedded into the wood, changing and flickering with the music tying the bar to the dance floor effortlessly. As Mel leaned over close to the bar tender, ordering us only God knows what, I can’t help but look out onto the dance floor and want to be out there. “I’ll get the chance” I tell myself and turn back to accept the drink from my friend.

  We chatted and ran through our first drinks in no time, turning back to the bar tender and ordering another as I feel hands come around my waist. Thinking its Marco, I just lean back as the white dress shirt clad arms encircle my waist. I know it’s not Marco when a scruffy chin brushes against my ear and the deep, smooth voice whispers in my ear, “Well, fancy seein’ you here darlin’.”

  Spinning around, almost spilling my drink, I come nose to nose with the smiling Garth Cobb releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I kiss his cheek over the scar that runs across his face and look right into those gorgeous green eyes of his. He winks, a heart melting grin caressing his lips and I hug him tight to me.

  “What the hell are you doin’ here cowboy,” I say into his ear, spotting his boyfriend Brad Muncy weaving his way through the crowd towards us.

  “We needed to see this new hot spot,” he laughs, his hands still at my waist holding me to him as Brad wraps me in a hug just as tight. I introduce them to Mel, putting their drinks on our tab that Marco had in place for us and we settle into a VIP area reserved for us.

  These two guys have been so welcoming to me since I found Rhea last summer. As I sit between them on the velvet couch, Garth throws his arm around my shoulders as Brad puts his hand on my knee. A normal position for these two. They are always overly touchy-feely, but it’s okay with me. Besides they aren’t interested in what I have to offer anyways.

  The music pumps away as we’re served another round of drinks, Melody obviously flirting away with Brad as Garth and I are lost in conversation about my favorite little guy, my ‘nephew’ Charlie. My headache is totally gone and I’m feeling rather good, actually having to fight off the urge to have Brad move his hand up my leg further, which is weird, but I just shake it off and carry on talking to Garth as he runs his fingers over the back of my neck. It feels so good that at one point I catch myself leaning into his touch and slap him in the chest as he chuckles.

  “Well, here’s my two favorite girls,” Marco’s familiar voice rings out over the music and I turn to see his tall, muscular frame leaning over to kiss Mel on the cheek. I have to bite down the urge to tip over from moving my head and slightly shake myself out of it, feeling woozy.

  “Looks like Ellie here is already tipsy,” he laughs, kissing my cheek and whispering, “and who are these two fellas?”

  I try to introduce them calmly, but as I’m telling him where I know Brad and Garth from, Brad squeezes my knee and a lightning bolt of desire shoots through me, stopping my words mid-sentence. As Marco gives me a strange look, his lips quirk up in a smile and he shares a look with Melody, getting me to question what they are laughing at.

  “Let me borrow my friend here,” Marco says to Garth and Brad as he takes my hand, pulling me to my feet and out
closer to the bar. “Did Melody happen to give you some pills little girl,” he says in my ear, the feel of his breath on my skin making it tingle and my breath catch in my chest. What is wrong with me? What was in those drinks? I think to myself, answering Marco with a ‘yes’. I’m confused at the burst of laughter that leaves him, his dark brown eyes smiling down at me as he apologizes to those around us for disturbing them.

  “Well girl,” he laughs some more and I hit him on the arm. “Well, it looks like Mel slipped you some Molly.”

  “Who’s Molly,” I ask as my words slur together and I wobble slightly in my heels. What the hell was he talking about? I don’t know anyone named Molly.

  “It’s not a ‘who’ silly girl, but a ‘what’,” he smiles again, wrapping my shoulders in his strong arms as he leads me back to the table. I still have no freaking idea what he is talking about as he plops me back down between Brad and Garth, leaning into whisper one more thing after kissing my cheek. “Molly is ecstasy. Have fun,” he laughs, waving a quick goodbye before disappearing into the writhing bodies out on the dance floor.

  Was he serious? I can’t seem to make any sense of the thoughts rolling around in my head right now as Garth’s lips touch my cheek. “You wanna dance hun’?” he smiles and I can’t help but nod my head yes. I shouldn’t want to dance or be close to Brad and Garth, I should want to beat the hell out of Melody for giving me drugs. I should want to rip every strand of pastel pink hair out of her head and slap her in the face with it, but instead I follow Garth out onto the packed dance floor, flanked by Brad.

  I lose track of time and of myself as the music plays on, the three of us dancing and grinding out on the middle of the floor. I should tell them about the drugs, but soon enough I don’t remember what it was that Marco has told me and I’m lost in the feeling of their attention. Their hands on my hips. Garth’s lips on my neck. Brad’s fingers running up my thigh pushing my dress up slowly.