Air Force Hero

by Weston Parker

  No, I thought sharply. The kiss in the storage room had been just as passionate as the time we shared in that scummy hotel. Sure, she regretted it after, but that was because she didn’t like that she had betrayed Brett. It didn’t have anything to do with me.

  Or did it?

  Ryan returned just in time to save me from the dark road my mind was wandering down. “What are you thinking about, man?”

  “Do you think Jo is safe to be doing this alone?” I asked. No point in telling him everything I was thinking. He didn’t need to know my concerns about Sam right now. The priority was Jo and making sure she would be safe going after Brett on her own. I knew she was a fighter. She was strong and more than capable of fighting her own battles, but a man nearly twice her size with a bad temper is bad news. Especially if he’s drunk.

  Ryan was quiet for a while. He studied me, wheels turning in his head. “I think if he tried something, Jo would straighten him out real quick.”

  “And if that goes badly?”

  Ryan glanced up when the hostess called his name. She was holding the phone in her hand. She pointed at it and then mouthed “for you.”

  “Hang on,” Ryan said, stepping back to pluck the phone off the back wall. He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Hello? This is Ryan Hart.”

  Whoever was speaking to him on the other end of the line said something that made his brow crease. Ryan cut them off. “Slow down, Rosie. What did you say?”

  I was already on my feet and fishing my motorcycle keys out of my pocket.

  “Yeah, no,” Ryan was saying. “It’s all right. Don’t worry.” He looked at me, and I waggled my keys. “Zach is on his way. Just get Sam out of there. Bring him here.” Rosie said something else. “Rosie, my dad owns the bar. I’m allowed to break the no minors rule for a situation like this. Don’t wait for Zach. Just get Sam in the car and come here. Okay?”

  The phone call ended, and Ryan hung up.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, worry spreading in my gut.

  “Jo went in the house and brought Sam out. She’s confronting Brett, and Rosie says she has a bad feeling.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll call once it’s handled.”

  “Hang on, Zach,” Ryan said, and he grabbed a napkin and pen from somewhere behind the bar. He scrawled an address on it and passed it to me. “If you get the chance to knock some of his teeth out, don’t hold back, all right? He deserves it.”

  I chuckled and tucked the napkin in my back pocket. “You got it.”

  The laughter died away as soon as I turned and headed out the front door. I rushed down the steps and hurried to my bike, where I pulled my helmet and then my gloves on.

  I glanced at the address on the napkin. I knew the street, but I didn’t know how long of a drive it would be to get to Jo. I’d cut through traffic if I had to. There was no part of me that liked thinking about her alone with that asshole. If he were drunk, which I assumed he most likely was, he would lack restraint, and his pain sensitivity would be really low. He’d be slower, sure, but if she hit him, it would be hard for her to hurt him.

  And if he hit her…

  I forced myself not to think about that. I had to trust that Jo would be able to handle herself until I got there. Best case scenario, nothing would get physical. Maybe I would show up, and she would be in complete control of the situation, and he’d be leaving.

  I’d spent plenty of time in the Air Force around guys like Brett. Ghoul was a perfect example. They thought everyone was beneath them, and they had no respect for women—or anyone else for that matter. They loved themselves more than anything else, and they prioritized their needs over those who loved them. They were classic manipulators, and when pushed too far, they almost always got violent.

  “Fuck,” I growled as I swung my leg over the seat of my bike. I started it up, revved the throttle, and then tore out of the parking lot like a madman. I received plenty of dirty looks from people heading in and out of the pub and heard one person yell at me to slow down.

  There was literally nothing that could make me stop. Even if a cop tried to pull me over, I’d keep going.

  The wind tugged at the sleeves of my jacket and raced over my shoulders. I hunkered down low, pressing my chest to the gas tank to make myself more aerodynamic. I weaved in and out of cars and passed on the right—for which I received several middle fingers and more than a few honks.

  It didn’t matter. Jo mattered.

  It had been a while since I felt such adrenaline rushing through me. My senses were heightened, and my body was itching for a fight; for a release of some kind. I needed it.

  I thought back to the other day when I saw Brett drop Jo off at the pub. I remembered the way he’d grabbed her and yanked her toward the truck. He’d scared her. He was big and powerful, and at that moment, she had submitted to him. Would he do the same shit to her today? Would she crumble when he pushed back, or stand her ground?

  I feared she would stand her ground and make things worse.

  In fact, I knew she would.

  Her son had been threatened. She was a mama bear in full fight mode now. She would be standing her ground for the sake of her son, not herself, and a woman with that cause was immovable. And that had a potential to get really, really fucking messy.

  I drove down the dotted line of the road, slipping between cars as they slowed for a yellow light. I opened the throttle and tore through the intersection. Brakes squealed to my right, and I didn’t bother looking over. I kept going, heart racing, jaw clenched, hoping for the best when I showed up at Jo’s place.

  18

  Josephine

  I pulled up to the curb and stomped on the brakes. The car came to a sudden halt and Rosie braced herself against the dashboard.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered, following my lead as I unbuckled my seatbelt and rolled out of the car. She got out, and I tossed her the keys over the roof. “What do I do?”

  “Stay here,” I said. I was already hopping up onto the curb and crossing the grass of my front lawn. My strides were long and determined. “I’ll send Sam out. Then you go somewhere. Anywhere. This won’t take long.”

  “You sure you should do this alone?” Rosie called after me.

  I was already halfway to my front door, which was wide open. “I want to,” I growled.

  I didn’t look back at her. Instead, I marched inside and left the door open behind me. Brett was definitely home. I could smell him. Body odor and alcohol. I strode down the hall and paused in the archway to the living room.

  Brett was slouched on the sofa. His feet were up on the coffee table, and he was still wearing his boots. They were caked in dried mud and little pieces of it were in the carpet and on the table. There were four empty beer cans scattered around the floor, three more on the coffee table, two on the sofa, and one in his hand. He was watching cage fighting on television.

  He didn’t even look up when I cleared my throat and planted my hands on my hips. “Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re home early. Does this mean you’re cooking us dinner?”

  I wanted to lay into him right then and there. I wanted to go apeshit on his ass and make him regret the day he ever asked me to go out with him.

  Instead, I took a deep breath and blew it out evenly. “I’m going to say hi to Sam. Then you and I need to talk, okay?”

  “Okay.” Brett chuckled. “I have to talk to you, too. ‘Bout that brother of yours. He’s got a bad attitude, you know? I don’t think we should let Sam stay at his place anymore.”

  My anger pounded inside my skull, desperate to be unleashed. “Stay here.”

  “Sure thing, babe. Can you bring me another beer from the fridge when you come back?”

  I ignored him and went to Sam’s room. The door was open a crack, so I knocked softly. His little voice called for me to come in. I pushed the door open to find him on his hands and knees on the floor. He was doing exactly what Ryan had said: playing with his new chemistry set.

  He loo
ked up at me, and his face lit up. “Hi, Mom!” He sprang to his feet and launched himself forward to wrap his arms around my thighs. He squeezed me tight and then looked up at me, grinning. “You’re early.”

  I stroked his hair and dropped to a crouch in front of him when he released my legs. “I missed you,” I said quietly.

  Sam smiled brightly. “I missed you, too.”

  “Did you have fun with Uncle Ryan last night?”

  Sam nodded.

  “What did you guys do?”

  “We had a contest,” he said eagerly. “Uncle Ryan had stuff to make mini volcanoes. Did you know you can use Pepsi and Mentos to make volcanoes? It was so cool, Mom!”

  I laughed and cupped his cheeks in my hand. He looked back at me with those perfect hazel eyes of his—eyes that matched Zach’s. “I hope you didn’t blow the roof off of Uncle Ryan’s house.”

  “They’re not that powerful, Mom,” Sam said like I was being incredibly silly. “But they went really high. And then we had mini pizzas. And then we watched a movie. And made a fort. And next time, Uncle Ryan says he has a surprise for me.”

  I giggled and pulled Sam close to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m glad you had fun.”

  “Was work good?”

  I smiled. Sam was wise beyond his years. He would be five in a few months, but sometimes, he acted like he was closer to eight. He was quick, eager to learn, and the most compassionate little guy around. How I had gotten lucky enough to have a son like him, I would never understand. But I was immensely grateful. His good soul had gotten me through the last few years with my head still attached to my shoulders.

  “I need to ask you something, honey,” I said, sitting down cross-legged in front of him. “And I want you to know that there are no wrong answers. Mommy needs you to be really honest. Can you do that?”

  Sam blinked but nodded. “Are you okay?”

  I took his hands and pulled him close. “I’m great. I promise. But I think it’s time we make a change, and I need to know what you want in order to do that. Does that make sense?”

  Sam nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Don’t answer right away. You can think about it. But remember, I want you to tell the truth. I won’t be upset no matter what you say, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you like having Brett live in the house with us?”

  Sam immediately broke eye contact with me and looked at his feet. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and made an unsure sound in the back of his throat. Then, about fifteen seconds after I asked the question, he looked back up at me. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? Because now is the time to tell the truth. I think things might be a bit better if he weren’t around anymore.”

  Sam nodded before he spoke. His reaction was all I needed to see. “Yes.”

  “Yes what, kiddo?” I prompted.

  “It would be better.”

  I ran my thumbs over the back of his hands. “Okay. Then I’m going to handle it. Auntie Rosie is outside. I’m going to walk you to the front door, and then you’re going to meet her by the car, okay? She’s going to take you for a drive.”

  Sam nodded, and I rose to my feet. I held his hand in mine and led him out of his room and down the hall to the front door. This seemed to catch Brett’s attention because I heard him shift around on the sofa, and then he called my name. I ignored him and gave Sam an encouraging pat on the back while I pointed to Rosie, who waved at us from where she stood by the car. She was on her cell phone.

  “Go see Auntie Rosie,” I said, pushing Sam out the door. He looked back up at me, uncertainty written all over his face. “She’ll take you for a drive, and when you come home, it will be just us. Sound good?”

  Sam nodded once and then put his back to me. I watched him walk to the car. Rosie opened the back door for him and buckled him in. Then she slid into the driver’s seat, buckled up, and looked at me through her window. I gave her a reassuring nod and lifted a hand in a wave. She waved back and then drove away, leaving me in the doorway.

  The anger returned, hot and fresh and wild.

  I went into the living room.

  Brett was perched on the edge of the sofa. His elbows rested on his knees, and his beer hung in his hands between his legs. He was looking at me, blonde eyebrows furrowed together, eyes narrowed. “What the fuck’s going on, Josephine?”

  “Ryan told me that you tried to drive Sam home this afternoon.”

  “Yeah. I went to pick him up. Like I do almost every week.”

  “You were wasted.”

  Brett scoffed and got to his feet, tossing aside his empty beer can. “I’d had a few, but I was more than capable of driving.”

  “No, Brett. You weren’t. And I’m done with this charade. I want you out.”

  Brett’s eyebrows crept toward his hairline. “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” I said firmly, taking a step into the living room. “You and I are done. It’s no secret that things haven’t been good for a while. Let’s just call it quits before it gets ugly. Pack your shit and leave.”

  Brett burst out laughing. Spittle flew from his lips, and he rocked back on his heels with amusement. “You’re kicking me out? After all I’ve done for you and that weak boy of yours?”

  “He’s not weak.”

  “He’s pathetic!” Brett shouted. “The two of you need a man around to take care of you. You’re lucky I’ve put up with your shit for so long. Lucky I haven’t done anything about your attitude. I let you get away with loads of shit. Flirting with guys at work. Showing your body off like it’s—”

  “Brett,” I said, my voice dripping from my mouth like acid. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. It’s over. Get the fuck out.” I pointed to the still open front door.

  He moved toward me with more speed than I would have expected for a drunken man of his size. I stood my ground and was forced to tilt my head back to look up at him. He towered over me, eyes burning with hatred. “You don’t tell me what to do, woman.”

  “This is my house. Sam is my son. And I’m through with you.” I stepped forward too, closing the couple of inches of space left between us. My chest was pressed to his rib cage, and my neck was craned so I could look into his eyes. I was not afraid. “Leave.”

  Brett prodded me in the chest—hard. “You think you’re too good for me now? You let some guy between your legs, and you’re gonna move on to him? Fuck him over like you fucked me? Huh? You little—”

  I shoved him back with two hands planted firmly in his chest. In his drunken state, he stumbled back a few steps before he was able to steady himself. “This isn’t about anyone besides me and you,” I hissed. “This isn’t working. Go find a girl who likes to get wasted at three o’clock on a Tuesday with you. Preferably someone without a child.”

  Brett came for me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me back with enough force to send me into the wall at my back. My shoulder blades hit first, and the wind was knocked from me. Brett pinned me there with a hand on either side of me. I could smell the liquor on his breath as he roared at me like a feral beast. “You are nothing without me, you little whore! Nothing!”

  “Fuck you!” I bellowed back in his face. “I’m not afraid of you, you fucking coward!”

  The back of his hand struck my cheek. The blow burned, and I held a hand to my stinging skin. I glared up at him as he pointed a finger in my face. “You won’t speak to me like that, woman. I won’t allow it. Now hold your tongue, and accept that I’m fucking staying. You hold no power over me. You jump when I say jump.” He reached up and grabbed my jaw with one hand, squeezing hard enough to crush my cheeks against my teeth. “Understand?”

  I spat in his face.

  He roared with anger and shoved my head back into the wall. The pain was sharp but temporary. My fury was too bright for me to be concerned with such small matters. “You’re a joke, Brett,” I growled.

  His lips peeled off his teeth in a
snarl.

  “You get off on pushing me around,” I hissed, writhing in his grip. “You can’t last more than four hours after you get up before you have a drink. Do you hate yourself that much? You can only tolerate your own thoughts that long before you have to drown them in liquor? I’m repulsed by you. I hate you. You’re. A. Joke.” I annunciated every word and stared him dead in the eyes as I spoke.

  I was fearless. I was ready to fight. Whatever it took, however badly it hurt, I was ready to take it. I craved it. I wanted him lying at my feet, begging me to stop. And even then, I knew I wouldn’t. He deserved to be punished.

  And so did I for letting him stay for so long.

  Brett slammed me into the wall again, and then, like a lunatic, he started laughing. “You think I’m a joke?” he whispered.

  I nodded and then decided I needed to act. I lifted my knee sharply, aiming for his groin. He twisted sideways, and my knee struck his hip. He laughed harder and grabbed my face again.

  “Take your fucking hands off me,” I yelled.

  “But, sweetheart,” Brett grinned, “the party is just getting started. You had it good all these years. I held back. I treated you well. But you fucked it up. You want to see how much of a joke I really am?”

  “Bite me,” I spat.

  “Maybe later,” he mused, eyes sparkling with a devious madness I had never seen in their blue depths before.

  19

  Zach

  I was pulling my key from the ignition as I swung my leg off the bike. I pulled my helmet off, and as soon as my ears were exposed, I could hear yelling coming from Jo’s house.

  The front door was wide open.

  “Fuck,” I growled, tossing my helmet on the lawn as I rushed up the curb and toward the door. I didn’t bother taking my gloves off. The yelling was getting louder. I could hear Jo screaming curses. Brett was yelling back. Something slammed into something else.

  I blew through the front door and slid to a stop on the hardwood of the hallway. To my left was a living room. Both Brett and Jo were there, and each of them looked up at me.