The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  During that time, neither Frona nor Georgie called to check on her. It was heartbreaking to know that I really was the only one who cared if she lived or died.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marc

  Exactly a week after we found her, Angie and I were on the couch, where she’d walked to on her own after complaining that she couldn’t take staring at her bedroom walls anymore.

  It hurt her to lean straight back without support so I settled into the corner of the now clean couch and patted the spot in front of me. Angie slowly sat down and leaned back against my chest, sighing in relief. The pneumonia had settled into one of her lungs and she got excruciating pains whenever she tried to bend or breathe in too deeply.

  Douglas quietly came over to place a footstool under her legs, and then resumed washing the dishes. We still weren’t caught up on them. Douglas and I had decided to clean the trailer shortly after Larry arrived to take Frona to the farm. We couldn’t hack the smells.

  “Do you think it’s all preplanned, like Mary says?” Angie asked, staring at the window. I’d already opened the curtain so she could watch the snow come down.

  She’s been listening to my mother too much while we’ve been here, I thought.

  I was quiet for a minute, enjoying the feel of her sitting in front of me. I liked playing with her long braid.

  “Maybe,” I finally answered. “But I don’t think that we’re evil or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.

  “I was.”

  I gently shifted a little so I could view her face. “Love is not wrong.”

  Angie glanced up at me somberly. “You know that’s not true.”

  “No, I don’t,” I argued, hoping to convince her, and through her, myself.

  “We’re family!”

  Her horrified hiss tore at my heart. She was wrestling with the concerns that had twisted my insides a few years ago. “Do you remember when I left early? By my choice?”

  She nodded right away, lowly muttering, “I thought it was because of something I did.”

  “It was, sort of. You were making me feel like you feel right now–guilty, confused. I had to get away and wait until you were older or I couldn’t sleep, like being around you was wrong.”

  “But I can’t do that!” Angie clenched her fists against the pain in her lungs. “I can’t be away from you now.”

  Her tone evened out, but that desperate light didn’t leave her eyes. “What made it better?”

  My heart thumped and I chose to give her the honesty she was old enough to hear. “Because I love you and I realized that wasn’t ever going to change. I learned to live with the rest of it, not matter how much it bothered me. I’ll always pick being with you.”

  Her breath caught and I wondered how many times she’d heard that in her life. Ever?

  I gently held her close, ignoring our audience.

  “Forever, Angie. I mean that,” I whispered, surrounded by her sweet scent and the feel of her warm body against mine.

  “You promise?”

  “Just that long, though. Not a second more.”

  Angie got better quickly, much to my relief. As soon as she could shower by herself, I had to let her out of the house too. She’d been closed up for a long time, and her reckless nature immediately asserted itself. I tried to stay ahead of her, but most days the best that I could do was to keep up. Instead of being worn out or tired of the drama, I was delighted. I had my Angie back.

  Close your eyes for a moment. Concentrate. Search for the door in your mind marked with the date 1998. Was it a good year for you? It was the best one of my life then, and now, all these years later, it still is.

  “Gently, honey!”

  Teaching Angie to drive wasn’t fun. My car was one of the few things I owned that I loved. It ranked right up there with my leather jacket.

  Angie was rough on the brakes, hard on the gas, and indifferent to the other traffic on the road. Almost fully healed now, she liked to go fast. I didn’t mind that so much, but she swerved too wide on curves and she didn’t leave enough room when passing. However, she could drive better than I could. She had an instinctive feel for the machine around us that allowed her to manipulate through narrow, one-lane bridges, sliding between two other cars in the process. She cackled while I cringed, begging God to keep us alive. Angie had survived and that was now another line that was blurred for me. How could I not have faith in a higher power when Angie was alive and right here next to me?

  There were a few benefits to it, outside the adrenaline rush and relief when she finally ran low on fuel. When she was finished exploring the freedom of my car, Angie liked to pull off the road that branched off at the top of the hill. She found us a spot thick with trees and we parked. I’d done this with Jeanie, but it hadn’t been my Angie.

  “I almost died, you know.”

  We were sitting together in the front seat and I cringed at the words. “Yes, I know.”

  “And it showed me some things,” Angie continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

  “Like what?” I asked, intrigued by her slyness. I already knew where she was going with this. I could feel the heat building, but her delivery was new.

  “You made a sex schedule.”

  I coughed to cover my surprise, reddening at having it stated so plainly.

  “I know you did. I almost have it figured out.”

  “Have what figured out?” I asked, leaning back to look at her.

  “What comes next.”

  Heat flayed me at the images in my mind. Next was something I’d dreamed of doing for her since 1993. The guilt was heavy.

  Angie took my hand in hers, sighing at my frozen posture. “I’m older now, Marc, and I’m willing. I love you more than my own life. Please stop letting guilt come between us.”

  I ducked my head at the deserved scold. She was right on all of that. The guilt was my mother’s brainwashing fighting with my heart. “I’m sorry.”

  Angie smiled at me, shining in the way I adored.

  “You’re awfully cute when you don’t shave. Does your mother hate it?”

  I snickered. “That’s why I didn’t.”

  “Sweet. I kinda like it.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that, but I was glad. I didn’t always feel like shaving. It was nice to know that it wouldn’t upset my future wife.

  Angie blushed. “So, um, the schedule you have us on. Is it…negotiable?”

  I loved it that she was taking the adult approach, but I couldn’t give in. “Not really, baby-cakes. I can’t make love to you and still hide our relationship. The whole world will know, because the joy won’t ever leave my face.”

  Angie dimpled again, blushing prettily, and I congratulated myself on sidestepping that one.

  “What if I use Jeanie’s tactics and tell you there are a lot of boys who would do whatever I wanted.”

  That got me to sit up straight. I frown at her. “Is that what you want?”

  Angie’s shoulders drooped dejectedly. “No. I was tricking you.”

  She had almost no ability to lie to me. I loved that innocence.

  “Those boys wouldn’t care about your pleasure, baby.” I leaned over to hover near her lips. “But I do.”

  Fire flamed between us, and this time, Angie let me have the lead.

  I didn’t refuse it. I slowly melted my mouth to hers and slid a hand up her thigh. She’d worn a skirt and low top today, obviously trying to push me further than I wanted to go, but unlike Jeanie, Angie understood that I wouldn’t and didn’t force the issue. I didn’t mind that she’d tried to talk me into more, though. I was learning that Larry was right in some ways. Women did need guidance, but it never required hands-on or insults. It took love and years of careful tending.

  Angie burst out laughing. The sound wasn’t amused, however.

  Whatever it was had struck her so funny that she had a coughing spell and I had to help hold her up.

  “What was so funny?” I asked when she
was breathing normally again.

  Angie leaned against the steamy window, sighing. “You think women need guidance, but I’ve never been afraid of a female in my life. Do you know why? I’ve never been guided by one.”

  She frowned a little, scaring me.

  “Until now, I’ve been beaten into submission. That gives me a more accurate view on things.”

  I nodded, hating it that she’d been hurt so much.

  “You think you’re protecting me, guiding me, but what you’re doing is taking over Georgie’s role, and frankly, I don’t need the dad that I have. Why would I ever want another one?”

  While I sat there, stunned, Angie fired up the car and took herself home. She drove perfectly calm, better on all of her weaknesses than I’d witnessed so far, and I kept my mouth shut so that I didn’t dig the hole any deeper. She was telling me almost exactly what I had told my mother. It was her life and I had no right to plan it without taking her feelings and needs into consideration. And she was completely right.

  Angie gave my hand a squeeze as she pulled up in front of her trailer and put my car in park.

  “I need some time to think. Please don’t come by tomorrow.”

  And then she got out and left! After everything I’d done for her, been through to get time with her, she was ready to split us up because I wouldn’t have sex.

  As I slid into the driver’s seat, I could almost hear my mother laughing at me.

  Our next drive went very differently.

  Angie took my call and agreed that she needed to practice again. Her tone was so remote that it increased my determination to give her what she’d asked for. I’d spent three days stewing over it before finally deciding–based on myself. At her age, I’d been doing a hell of a lot more than we had so far. We could survive a jump in levels that would satisfy her. I just had to be careful that I didn’t let it go much farther or I’d end up spreading her legs in my backseat. She had no idea how badly I wanted to.

  I had Angie drive to a new spot along New Haven road. She carefully maneuvered through the woods, parking where I told her.

  As soon as the keys were in my pocket, I climbed into the rear.

  Angie regarded me in the mirror. “I’m not in the mood.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, right.”

  Angie snickered, letting go of her anger to join me. She settled into our favorite position–her on my chest–and laid her cheek against my neck. I held her for a few minutes, loving the feel of her, and the peace. But my body reminded me that it had been a while since I had a willing female laying on me, wanting pleasure.

  “Did you have enough time to think?” I asked carefully.

  Angie nodded against my chest. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. I love you no matter how you try to control me.”

  That hurt. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Just promise me that when we leave you’ll stop it. I couldn’t take it if you turned out to be like her.”

  That was an even harder blow, but I was a man and I sucked it up. “I won’t. Promise you won’t become a drinker?”

  “My word on it.”

  Her tone left no doubt. She’d seen enough of her mom to know that was a bad life.

  “Then I promise to stop holding back any more than I have to. Now. Today.”

  She peered up at me. “You mean that?”

  “Yes,” I answered, voice growing husky. “Can I prove it to you?”

  “Something new?” she begged eagerly, almost breaking my will to only do what I’d planned.

  “Yeah, baby. Something new. For both of us.”

  “You didn’t do it with her?”

  I lowered my mouth to her ear, lying, “No, I didn’t do it to her.”

  “What?” Angie whispered, breath catching.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “But we’ve already–”

  “Not here, I haven’t.” My hand went to her thigh and Angie’s body arched. I sent my other hand to her hair. “Come here, baby-cakes. I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.”

  “Can I try that on you now?”

  I stiffened as I understood what she meant. We were cuddled, and I’d thought she was about to fall asleep in satisfaction.

  “Please? I’ll be careful.”

  I wasn’t positive that I could breathe as her hands went ahead without my permission, freeing the hardening flesh I’d just gotten to go down. She had the strongest effect on me that way. With Jeanie, I’d had to concentrate to get aroused after only the first few encounters. Even when we’d had sex, it wasn’t that great for me. With Angie, I was still on fire after coating the inside of my jeans.

  Angie’s head lowered and I shut my eyes, ignoring the voice screaming at me to stop her, that she was too young. These moments were little compared to what we would do without everyone stealing our time. I would try very hard not to knock her up for a few years, though. She deserved a chance to pick her career and chase it before I saddled her with my kids.

  “You really do want children?” she asked, peering up at me in surprise.

  With my now fully hard manhood inches from her lips, speech was impossible. I wanted to fill her with my life and grow a dozen children that looked just like her.

  “That’s so sweet,” she purred, and then dipped her head to taste me.

  The afternoon flew by as we learned more of each of other’s likes, dislikes, and dreams. After each hot encounter, Angie curled under my arm and talked to me. It was like nothing I’d ever gone through. She actually cared about my dreams, my hopes! We spent hours talking, asking questions that meant the world to us at that moment. We asked, compared, and planned, but most of all, we touched and stared. We could have gazed at each other for hours. Always denied that liberty in public, we devoured each other in private, in any way that I would allow. And as the weeks flew by, I allowed more and more. I walked a delicate and sometimes vanishing tightrope that held our lives in the balance.

  I wouldn’t have traded those moments for anything.

  Marc

  We spent the morning of July 4th riding through the cornfield with Angie’s arms locked around my waist, her full breasts against my back. I’d never been more aware of the wind, the sun, of my life.

  “Faster!”

  I laughed at her shout, twisting the throttle, and we shot through the tall rows with no thoughts but of our fun.

  By noon, it was too hot for movement and we lay between the rows of corn in the cool shade. Our hands stayed close, sometimes brushing in agreement or comfort, but we kept space between us. When we didn’t, things got carried away.

  “Why a sniper?”

  I struggled with the question, but tried to answer it honestly. “Some people don’t deserve to live. I think I’ve got the stomach for it.”

  Angie brushed her dusty braid over the other shoulder. “I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I was.

  Angie was still and quiet for so long that I slid my hand over hers as I asked, “Can you love a man who does that? Kills.”

  I wasn’t certain she would answer, there was another tense quiet for so long after I asked. And then she regarded me in a way that was haunting.

  “Yes. I think I would still love you even if you murdered people. I wouldn’t want to, but I don’t think I can stop now.”

  That, from Angie, who hated to eat meat she was so against taking a life. It caused my heart to skip a beat. She’s perfect.

  I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. “Only the bad guys, baby-cakes. I swear.”

  She nodded, nostrils flaring as her eyes turned a smoky, roiling blue. “Kiss me? Really?”

  I hadn’t for a couple weeks now–not since we’d gone parking. I sighed. “You’ll stop things?”

  Angie blushed, but tilted her chin up. “Of course.”

  It was a challenge, something she liked.

  I braced my arm to crawl closer.

  Unable to wait, Angie lunged forward t
o claim my mouth. Lightning flashed and sank into my stomach, waking those hormones that wanted to take her in every way. I longed to love her.

  My tongue dipped, tasting, and her arms wound around my neck, pulling me down against her teenage body. She felt so good!

  Angie caught the thought, smiling, and I pressed soft kisses to her cheek, her jaw. And then to the base of her throat.

  She shuddered as my lips slid across her salty skin. “I like that.”

  Her whisper gave me chills.

  I did it again, hardening against her thigh. The shirt she wore was loose and it moved easily under my gentle efforts. I let my mouth ease into the cleft of her bra, dizzy from the scent, the need that was building faster than I could defend us against.

  “Mmm…”

  That sound did things to me that I couldn’t describe. I let my free hand come up to her waist. So sweet. So young. Forbidden. My hand froze before it could slide further. We have to stop.

  “Just a little more,” Angie mewled, body arching. She kissed me again before I could refuse.

  My hand began to move up as I kissed her back. Her body was warm, soft, her breathing ragged. I nuzzled her jaw, kissed her neck. She arched against me again, groaning lowly, and it sent the curve of her breast right into my hand.

  Alarm bells blared, but this time, I ignored them, extending my thumb so that I could slowly stroke the hard nipple so near to my mouth.

  “Ohh!”

  There was that response to her pleasure, and I couldn’t stop myself from doing it again.

  She shuddered, fists clenching as I pressed another kiss to the bare skin that I could reach. Vanilla invaded my senses whenever I got near her, but it was in the taste of her too. It wasn’t the chemicals of perfume, but the sweetness of nature and I let my tongue trail over her neck in delight.

  Her hands came up to tangle in my hair and it was only natural to give her what she was unconsciously asking for. I moved closer.

  Stopping shortly was still in my thoughts as I adjusted hard flesh and lowered my body onto hers. I’d been bracing on one arm, but now, I let her feel me.