by ANDREA SMITH
And so for the next few weeks, I was glued to him as much as possible. It was during my college spring break that he left for Parris Island. I’d driven him to the airport in Blountville, Tennessee where he’d take the short flight to Savannah, Georgia. From there the military escorts from Parris Island would meet the incoming recruits.
I held it together the whole way there. We’d kissed and held each other for a good ten minutes before he finally had to check in at the gate. “I’ll write, Avery. I promise. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to call you right away, but as soon as I can, I will. I love you.”
“I love you Bryce,” I whispered. “I’ll be thinking about you every minute, I promise.”
I was proud of the way I’d held it together in front of him. But I’d bawled the whole way back to the ranch.
And now here I was. I was meeting his parents and his brother for the first time. His mother had called me a few times, the first being when she’d received a phone call from him the day after he arrived at boot camp. She said it was some scripted message, not a real conversation.
I’d checked into the hotel this morning where they were staying. They’d been here since yesterday for Family Orientation Day. I’d delayed coming in until today since it was Family Liberty Day so we’d actually be able to visit one on one with Bryce.
He’d sent me pictures, so I already knew how super buff he’d gotten and how hot he looked even with his head shaved. He had a killer tan going on as well.
There was a knock on my door. It was Samantha. We hugged one another as if we were old friends, and in a way, that’s how it felt for me. “Are you ready?” she asked beaming. “Eric and Sid are waiting in the lobby for us. I’m so excited to see him again. It seems like it’s been forever. We’re so darn proud of Bryce.”
“I’m proud of him too, Samantha. And I’ve missed him like crazy. But I’m surprised he chose the Marines. I know his dad was in the military, so I presumed he was also a Marine, but Bryce said differently in his last letter to me.”
“Nope,” she said with a laugh, “Eric was in the Army. Special Ops. I think Bryce chose the Marines specifically because of its reputation for having the toughest military training of all the branches. I think he still has something he wants to prove to his father. But truthfully, there’s no need. Eric couldn’t be prouder of his son.”
And once we’d gotten to the base and observed the motivational run of the recruits as they sang cadence, and then listened to the military brass and their speeches, there was no doubt in my mind that Eric Slater was indeed proud of his son.
I immediately had fallen in love with Bryce’s younger brother, Sidney, the perfect one. He looked just like his mother, while Bryce favored his dad. Sid just finished his junior year of high school and was looking forward to his senior year.
“Did you ever think Bryce would become a Marine?” he asked me as we spotted Bryce in his Alpha Company platoon.
“No, it came as a surprise, but don’t you think he wears it well?” I replied.
“Yeah, no shit,” Sid remarked.
“Sidney,” his mother warned, “Language?”
And finally, the recruits were released for liberty and I felt my cheeks flush when Bryce made a beeline for me, scooping me up in his strong arms, and pressing his mouth to mine.
“I think he likes her,” Sidney commented, and I heard his father’s chuckle follow.
Bryce put me down, and immediately pulled his mom into a warm hug. He then moved to his dad and it did my heart good to see them man hug one another. He ruffled Sidney’s hair and gave him a playful one-two slug on his shoulder. “How ya doing Scrappy-Doo?” he teased.
The rest of the day had been spent with Bryce giving us a tour of the training camp, including the obstacle course and then the barracks which I swear looked cleaner than a hospital. Everything was spit-shined and in its rightful place.
We all had dinner with the rest of the recruits and their families and friends. Too soon it was over, but we’d see him again the following morning at the graduation ceremonies.
Bryce lingered outside with me until his father cleared his throat. “Will see you in the morning, son,” Eric said, “Better catch up with the rest of your platoon.”
The following morning we sat in the grandstands as the outdoor graduation ceremonies began. The pomp and circumstance was overwhelming, as was the heat and humidity. Samantha and I sat next to one another, fanning ourselves with the event programs we’d been given upon entering the park.
Finally, it concluded and the recruits were officially Marines. Bryce would have a ten day leave before reporting to Camp Lejeune for amphibious assault training. That was all I knew up to this point. As far as I knew, he hadn’t received his permanent orders yet.
Back at the hotel, I showered and dressed for dinner. We’d decided to have dinner at the hotel. Bryce was leaving with me the following morning to go back to Bristol. We’d have a couple of days together and then he’d drive his truck back to his family’s house for the rest of his leave.
I relished the time we would have together, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. And then what? I knew he’d said over and over that we’d be together, but how was that supposed to work?
He was going to more training, and then he’d be assigned a permanent base which could be anywhere in the country, or even overseas. I had another year of college to finish. I couldn’t help but wonder what our future would be.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out. At dinner Bryce proudly announced that after his training his orders were to report to the Marine base in Quantico.
His father dropped his fork as the news registered. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying Bryce?”
Bryce grinned. “Not entirely, Dad. I tested well enough to start Officer’s Training School there. After that, well who knows. But I’m leaning toward becoming a part of the DEA.”
I looked at Eric Slater. It was clear he was choked up. “Close enough, son,” he murmured, the pride in his voice evident.
Samantha was beaming, and Sidney was grinning ear to ear. “Way to go, dude,” Sid piped up.
And then Bryce’s eyes locked with mine. “And what about you, Avery? Quantico isn’t all that far. Lots of places around the area in need of Equestrian Science majors. And at least one guy I know there who’s in need of his best girl to be close by if she’s got a mind to, that is.”
I smiled broadly. This was the best news I’d had in a long time. “No, you’re right,” I replied, “I think it’s fantastic news, Bryce. I love your plan. And I always thought how cool it would be to have a ‘G-Man’ as my boyfriend.”
His family laughed. I felt him reach for my hand under the table, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you,” he replied. “Thank you for your love, your patience, and not giving up on me. I’d like to toast it.”
We all picked up our water glasses, and clanged them together. “To G-Men,” Bryce said. “And to not letting your past define your future.”
“Cheers,” the rest of us replied.
The End
Diamond Girl Preview
Book 1 - G-Man Series
By
Andrea Smith
Do you want to meet Bryce’s parents and read their story? It’s all in Diamond Girl. Here’s the synopsis and my favorite chapter from Book 1 in the “G-Man Series.”
Synopsis
Picture it: Indianapolis, Summer of 2012…
Something’s going down and it aint’ about racing. Outlaw Motorcycle Club ring a bell for you Hoosiers?
It’s about to get real for 35 year-old soccer mom Samantha Dennison - but not in a way she ever would’ve imagined. She’s finally decided to take a walk on the “wild side,” and when she does, she runs smack dab into Bad Boy Biker Slate.
Her instincts tell her to run fast and far, but her hormones tell her something completely opposite.
Adult Content
Introduction
“Diamond Girl,” is Book 1 in the “G-Man Series,” and can be read as a standalone.
This story is loosely based on actual events which took place the Summer of 2012, in Indianapolis, Indiana, involving the Outlaws Motorcycle Club and Federal agents.
The characters in this work of fiction however, are just that, fictional.
Chapter 8
Samantha
I spent Sunday trying to avoid Jack, most of it spent in the bathroom, trying to cover up the shiner I had around my left eye. It was bruised and tender, turning dark shades of purple and black by the hour. I hoped like hell that it disappeared before I worked again on Tuesday.
Jack never mentioned once what had transpired the night before. He acted no differently than usual.
He sat me down in the afternoon to show me how he handled the bill payments on line. Jack was extremely organized with his file folders, Excel files, and logging payments in with confirmation numbers provided by the bank, once remittance was scheduled. He was meticulous and expected no less out of me, now that this household task had been relinquished to me.
He packed his suitcase and his garment bag late in the afternoon. Giving me a peck on the cheek, he was off to the airport. He told me he would be calling to check in. No mention of anything else. No apology. No explanation - as it there could possibly be one.
I phoned Becky and chatted for a while, trying to take my mind off of the obvious. I didn’t dare mention what had happened between Jack and me, because she would’ve gone off about it and yelled at me for not reporting it to the police or getting the fuck out immediately, both of which were sane reactions. I needed to think this through on my own, to handle it in whatever way was best for me. I hadn’t been up against anything like this before.
Tuesday finally came, and I was in the chair while Margo was doing her best with applying a heavy concealer around my left eye. She was being gentle, which told me that this wasn’t the first shiner she had needed to conceal for one of the girls.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, as she gently dabbed make-up over the concealer.
“Not really,” I replied with a shrug. “It’s no big deal.”
“It’s always a big deal, sweetie, but I respect your right to privacy, so I won’t push. Hopefully, your perspiration won’t wash it off.”
I got through my first couple of dance routines without a hitch. Tuesday was generally a less-crowded evening. It was mostly regulars in during weeknights.
I’d just changed into another costume. It was shiny gold boy shorts, with a matching sleeveless gold vest. I accented it with four-inch black leather boots, and a glittery, sequined cowboy hat.
Kevin poked his head around the corner of the dressing room.
“Front and center, Diamond. There’s a dance request for you, followed by a customer-purchased drink.”
I prayed it wasn’t Harry.
I knew immediately when the first chords of the tune blared out from the speakers that this request hadn’t come from Harry. It was Steppenwolf’s ‘Born to be Wild.’
I took the stage and, immediately, my eyes met with Slate’s incredibly blue ones. I saw the shadow of a smile cross his sensual lips as I took the pole and twirled to the beat of the song. My heart fluttered as I watched him watching me. None of his biker buddies were around. He must have been flying solo.
The song ended, and I descended the three steps from the stage to the main floor. Slate was on his feet, nodding toward a table near the back. I saw Vince nearby. He was making sure Slate didn’t touch me. Vince seemed much more attentive when the gentleman was a biker instead of an old geezer, like Harry.
He held a chair out for me, as any perfect gentleman would have done. Renaldo took our drink order. Slate ordered bourbon straight up, and I requested my usual club soda. I was nervous, for some reason. His presence unnerved me.
“You have some nice moves, Diamond. Did the song justice out there. I like that.”
“Glad you got your money’s worth, Slate,” I said in my husky club voice.
I watched as he cocked an eyebrow, a slight smile gracing his lips. “I’m not sure about that, Diamond Girl. I guess that remains to be seen.”
I gaped at him, feeling myself flush. He didn’t talk like any biker that I’d seen around the place. There was a quality to his voice. His choice of words hinted at something more than biker lingo. I was certainly no expert on bikers. And maybe I was basing my opinion on stereotypical impressions.
The several moments of silence between us was making me more self-conscious.
“So, Slate, tell me about yourself? Where are your biker buddies tonight?”
“I really don’t give a shit where they are. We have separate lives, you know?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… . . .”
“Insult me? You didn’t. I’m used to the stereotypical comments. I’m sure you’re used to them in your line of work, right?”
Point well taken.
“Yeah, you got that right,” I said with a throaty laugh.
“How long have you been dancing in clubs like this, Diamond?”
“Not long,” I said with a sigh, “kind of new to this circuit.”
“You’re not from Indy?”
“No, Kansas,” I replied, “And then Chicago, and now here. How about you, Slate?”
He took a sip of his drink that had just arrived and shrugged.
“I’m from all over. I really don’t call anywhere home for long.”
It almost seemed as if Slate had a script.
Like me…
Or maybe it was a macho biker thing.
“So, are you a member of the Outlaws?”
“Do you see an OMC patch on this jacket?”
“No, but then, I’m no expert on biker gangs, either.”
“They’re called clubs, not gangs, Diamond.”
Whatever.
They were mostly criminals, from what I’d observed.
“So, what do you do outside of the club?” I asked, cautiously.
“I manage,” he replied with a shrug.
“Well, you must work. How else can you afford to make special requests and buy a dancer a drink at these prices?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You aren’t going to get rich off of me, baby. Maybe that old geezer can hook you up. He didn’t seem to lack for money.”
“Fuck off, Slate.”
His blue eyes were locked on my green ones. All humor had left his face. His eyes were as cold as ice instantly. He perused me up and down, and I saw his jaw twitch as his gaze came to rest on my left cheek bone. His eyes darkened.
He lifted his hand to my face. His thumb lightly caressed my outer cheekbone underneath my eye. Vince was immediately in the vicinity.
“It’s okay, Vince,” I called over my shoulder. Slate removed his thumb from my cheek.
“Who fucked you up?” he asked.
His gaze was now burning into me, waiting for an answer. I didn’t owe him a response, let alone an explanation. I finished my club soda, turning my face away from him.
“I asked you a question, Diamond. Who the hell left that mark on you? I want to know who it is that I need to fuck up.”
“My husband,” I replied, returning my gaze to his. “It was my husband, okay?”
I saw a quick look of disbelief cross over his face. He turned his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm.
“Christ,” he muttered. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Diamond? You put up with shit like that from your old man?”
“It’s none of your concern, Slate. Is our time up yet? I need to have my make-up touched up before the next set.”
“Yeah, babe. We’re done here.”
I scooted my chair back and hurried away from him. He was making me feel like trash. How in the hell could some biker dud
e make me feel like trash? But he had. I was certain he hadn’t meant to, but at the moment, it was how I felt. I also felt out of sorts with my departure. I realized it was when he said we were “done here.” What had that meant?
I quickly banished those thoughts from my mind. What the hell did it matter? I was certainly not going to get involved with some young biker. I headed into the dressing room as Margo was finishing up with Jade.
“Need a touch up, hon?”
I nodded, too frazzled by the brief time I’d spent one-on-one with Slate to try and make small talk with Margo.
“I saw you out there with the hottie biker,” she said, as I took the chair that Jade had just left. “I poked my head out when I knew your number was up to see who your admirer was. Just so you know, I can be nosy that way with dancers that I care about.”
I eyed her warily. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw the way she fussed over me like a mother hen. We had to be around the same age.
“Is he a regular here?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve seen him in here before, though. He just started hanging around with the others, I don’t know, maybe around last spring, I guess. The dancers here sure are crazy about him, especially Garnet. I think the old Diamond used to hang with the bikers before she was fired. Hell, that was probably her downfall. She started living a different life after she got involved with Slash.”
“Who’s Slash?”
“I think his real name’s Jamie. He’s one of the Outlaws, been in the club for a while. He took to the previous Diamond. He still comes in with the others sometimes. I think he’s one of the higher-ups in the Indy club. He acted like he owned her. That was her fault for letting it happen. I know he used to take her tips from her, the lazy son-of-a-bitch. Then he used to bruise her up nicely, if he thought she was dancing too provocatively for one of the customers. That girl was in a no-win situation. Janine banned them all from here for a while. She lifted the ban once she fired Diamond. She won’t stand for any of the dancers getting involved with that bunch, though.”