by Chloe Plume
“What do you think?” she asked.
All I could think about was tearing off those clothes. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll wear this now since we’re heading back down the rest of the riverwalk.”
I nodded. “Seems like the right thing to wear.” I wasn’t the verbose sort. I knew that. But boy did I wish I could say something a bit more effusive.
Sometimes though, words are cheap.
Chapter 10
The way the lights reflected off the water was magical. The town was a fusion of old and new, with the diversity of architecture merging with the natural beauty of the location. The mad frenzy of nightlife filled the air. Lights flashed, sounds reverberated down the long corridor of the river, and we made our way towards the end of the path.
It was there, overlooking the entire town from the far end of the Cape Fear River, where it splits off in two, that he touched me. Not like before, by accident, but with a deliberate force. His hand reached under the small of my back and he held me for a moment, as if deciding what to do next, and I was afraid the moment would end there and be lost forever.
To my relief, he pulled me closer. I could feel the pulse beneath his chest as I pressed into his shoulder and he tilted my head up with his other hand.
He breathed heavy. “I knew this was going to happen the moment I saw you.”
“I know.” In truth, I did. It had to. Fate had marked us from the beginning. I wanted him in the worst way the moment I laid eyes on him. And now, a full day after, it was worse. I ached from the tension between us. I begged for him to resolve it. “I need this,” I reassured him, sensing the hesitation.
And then he kissed me. And I knew there was no going back. In that moment, we erased our only sane option. We committed to facing the retaliation of a criminal world that controlled both our lives. It was only a matter of time—we both knew.
But his lips on mine, the tense muscle of his arms wrapped around me, and our bodies pressed together—that instant overcame all doubt and fear. His hand moved lower, down around the bend of my hip and drew me close enough that I could hear his heart beat faster and faster. His other hand held the back of my head, caressing gently with strong fingers while he locked his lips with mine and ran the edge of his tongue swiftly over the middle of the opening between them, gently easing my mouth open.
The scent of bourbon drifted over me with his warm breath, as if it were inherently a part of him. He gently nibbled on my bottom lip and his tongue reached past my teeth and into my mouth.
He groaned. “ Fuck, I want you.”
I reached up and around his broad shoulders, feeling the hardness of his body and the thickness of his tightened muscles.
“Let’s go back now,” he urged. His hand slipped lower down my body to where I wanted it. He firmly grasped my ass while devouring me with his mouth.
Holy crap…
I felt the moistness build between my legs as I thought about those strong hands and that hungry mouth devouring every part of me.
And that cock…
I’d only imagined, but now I felt it growing and pressing against me as Dean cupped my rear and pulled me closer. Hard and throbbing, it reached up and across my lower stomach as our bodies touched. I wondered at the size, knew it was big from the feel of it against me.
Suddenly, there was talking back up the riverwalk. Dean pulled away, and several people appeared up ahead. Without speaking further, we both followed the trail back the way we came, close together but quiet.
We stopped at the parking lot and the valet ran out to get the car. Dean put his hand on my arm, smiled—the first time I’d seen him smile—and went inside the small office to pay. I waited for him outside where the valet would pull the car up.
My heart still fluttered and my head still spun. I couldn’t believe this was happening, knew that it shouldn’t, but understood that it had to. I’d never felt anything like this. I needed him.
“Hey, how long have you been waiting?”
I turned to see a man standing to my side, moderately handsome in that generic sort of way, somewhere in his 30’s.
He smiled in an ingratiating way and came closer. “They always take a while with my Porsche. Between you and me, I think they’re in the middle of taking it out for a spin.”
“I’m sure that’s it,” I said flatly, purposefully avoiding eye contact.
Unfortunately, he stepped even closer. “Bill,” he announced, stretching out his hand.
Out of politeness I extended my own. His hands were feeble and clammy. I was glad when the handshake was over.
He stepped back as if surveying me. “You know,” he started, “you have a great look. Ever thought about modeling?” He smiled again.
“Um…Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say and honestly didn’t want to say anymore.
He pressed on. “Well, listen, why don’t I just give you my number. I, well, I have a lot of connections. They’re filming things around here all the time. So you never know.” He shrugged.
“Right. You never know.” I shrugged.
He smiled, again, all teeth and smug posturing. “Well, if you want to talk some options over, my meeting was just cancelled, so I’m free the rest of the evening.”
“I’m alright, but thank you.”
“Well,” he kept going, “I don’t want this opportunity to pass you by. I mean a girl like you—”
“What about a girl like her?” Dean interrupted, grasping the valet ticket and cash in his tightly clenched hand.
“Who the hell are you?” Bill spat out, nervously eyeing Dean. “Her boyfriend or something?”
“If I were her boyfriend, you wouldn’t be standing there on two good legs.”
I turned to Dean. “Let’s just go, okay?”
He didn’t respond. I could tell by the way he was crushing the paper in his hand and the way his arms tensed under the thin material of his t-shirt, that he was pissed. And, knowing what underground fighters were capable of, I was concerned that he’d be unable to handle the situation peacefully.
But he did. Bill backed off and the valet pulled up with the silver Pontiac, and Dean remained quiet and calm.
Too quiet and calm.
That brief but compelling moment shared between us, and the closeness we felt after, faded away as we stepped into the car. Thing were quiet between us and the tension was of a completely different kind. Dean was closed off again. The hardened angles of his face remained still as the light and shadows streaming through the windshield played off his features. He stayed silent, only speaking once to answer my question.
“You’ll take me to the Wildlife Resources thing tomorrow at Holden Beach, right?” I asked, wishing things between us were like they were back at the riverwalk.
“Sure, yeah.”
He didn’t say a word after that. The pebbled surface of the driveway crunched under the weight of the tires as we pulled up to his ocean cottage. He got out and I followed him into the house without so much as a look between us.
As we passed the bedroom door, he stopped and pointed. “You know where everything is. I’ll be here, on the couch.”
I searched for some sign of what he was thinking, some way to get through to him. But his eyes were dark and expressionless, staring out blankly as he reached into the fridge for a beer. “Alright,” I began, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Dean.”
Dean nodded and plopped down onto the couch, took a long swig from the bottle, and leaned into the cushions, away from where I was standing. I walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind me.
Chapter 11
Three Years Ago…
Shit, I thought it was hot in Fayetteville, N.C. But the Iraqi desert was a whole new level of scorching torture and ball-soaking humidity. I checked my military issue watch—yup, 118° degrees…awesome.
“Yo, Hunter.”
It was that guy, Evan. I met him two years ago at the Enlisted Marine Commissioning Program. Since then, I�
��d attained the rank of Captain while he was stuck with the single gold insignia of a Second Lieutenant for another three months. Ryan and Chase, my buddies from back home, ribbed him about it, calling him “nugget” and “butterbar.”
“Told you to call me Dean, Second Lieutenant,” I said, jokingly.
“Cut the crap, Captain.” Evan punched my shoulder. “Getting big my man.”
“Yeah. The Marine gyms are nicer out here in the middle of the desert than back home for some reason. We got some great equipment coming in.”
Evan laughed. “Man, thank all the corporations looking to get support-our-troops brownie points.”
“Well, whatever the hell we’re doing out here, I’m just doing my job. I don’t take sides. I serve the country.”
Evan laughed again, patting my back. “Oh man, you’re too much. They should put you on the poster.” He rubbed his eyes. “Oh man… Right, so anyway, we’re due in 5 over in the Colonel’s tent. Something didn’t work out during the flyover and the helicopter went down.”
I seized up. “Wait. That was the Red Dog squadron…Ryan and Chase were with that expedition!”
Evan shook his head. “I totally forgot. Shit… Man, I’m sorry.”
I sprinted the entire way to the tent, Evan jogging behind me. All seats were taken and we stood to the side as Colonel Graham made his way to the podium and withdrew the glasses from his right chest pocket.
“At 0500 hours, squadron HMLA-777, Red Dog squadron, passed into the Fallujah territory with the express purpose of aiding militia forces in the containment of an insurgency uprising.” He paused, squinting down at the papers in front of him.
“Shit, you think we’re going in?” Evan whispered.
“Multiple air units were grounded by insurgent strikes,” Colonel Graham continued, “and we have reason to believe Major Ryan Garson, Sergeant Lance Forman, Private Dex Ramirez, and First Lieutenant Chase Driggs survived and were taken possession of by enemy forces.”
A murmur spread throughout the small crowd seated under the tent.
Colonel Graham continued, louder this time to project over the mumbling voices. “As of now, this expeditionary unit will not undertake further action under direct orders from Washington.”
“What the fuck!” I said out loud.
The Colonel looked straight at me for a second and then turned back to the papers in front of him. “The territory has been deemed strategically unnecessary at this time and operations are being scaled back. Possible covert rescue missions are under review and we’ll keep the Unit posted as deliberations progress.”
“Fuck this shit.” I fumed in the corner of the tent as the Colonel stepped back from the podium and exited the tent.
“I mean, we can’t really do anything man,” Evan chimed in. “Our hands are tied.”
“Don’t give me that ‘our hand are tied’ bullshit,” I shot back. “Tell Chris to get the chopper ready.”
“Easy there Rambo,” Evan cautioned. “You know what this means. Even if you pull it off, you better hope no one hears about it.”
“As far as you know you’re acting under orders, got that?” I barked. “Tell Chris. As far as both of you are concerned, I have orders from the Colonel. It’ll be my ass, not yours.”
“Alright, alright.” Evan put his hands up. “Let’s do it.” He slipped out of the tent.
I went in the opposite direction. The Colonel was in the far end of the officer accommodations section of the barracks. I twisted through the narrow hallways and reached the front of his private quarters. I all but knocked down the door, banging relentlessly on the hastily constructed thin wood entrance.
“Who the fuck…” Colonel Graham stepped into the doorway. “Of course, it had to be. Captain Hunter. What the fuck can I do for you this magnificent day in the shittiest part of the whole wide world?”
I pushed past the Colonel, into the small but relatively well-appointed residence unit. “I think you know what,” I insisted. “We should be going after Major Ryan and his men right now.”
Colonel Graham put his hand on his forehead. He poured himself a glass of water and drank slowly as beads of perspiration coursed down his forehead. “Do you just not get it?”
“What?” I demanded.
“I launch some renegade rescue mission, the paper-pushers in Washington will catch wind and before you know it, every company under my command will be pulled back. This is the way politics works, Dean.”
I convulsed, my temper rising. “You can’t just leave them there. You wait even a day, you know what happens…”
Colonel Graham stared regretfully down at the glass in his hand. “Listen, Dean, you were the most decorated enlisted Marine in the history of this battalion. You earned a dozen medals in your last tour alone and were fast-tracked through the officer program. And let’s not pretend—you’ve made Captain in less than two years—you’re gunning for my job. And, you know what? I want you to take it. I’m tired of this.”
I was fuming. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“That’ll be ‘Colonel, Sir.’ Captain Hunter, don’t make me issue a report.”
“That’s all we’re going to do—Colonel Sir—sit around and issue reports?” I stormed back towards the doorway. “Figures that’s what they teach you in that War College in Virginia—all that abstract facts and figures bull crap, while real men are dying out there!”
“Watch it Captain!”
I spun around to face him one last time. “Fuck you Colonel! Just try and stop me!” I stormed off, wishing too late I hadn’t put on so much of a display.
I heard the Colonel buzz the base security detail: “Alert for Captain Dean Hunter—Considered AWOL and Order to Apprehend.”
The chopper blades thudded in the dark, thick night as we approached the cave formation. I saw a few campfires in the far distance, but if we landed to the other side, on the fields and under cover of darkness, we’d remain undetected.
“Evan!” I yelled over the thumping of the helicopter as it slowed and approached the patchy green and brown terrain at the base of the mountains. “This is thirty minutes tops, in and out, only me.”
“You sure you don’t need back-up?”
I patted him on the shoulder. “No. Remember, I told you guys I had orders from the Colonel. This is on me.”
“Get’em back Dean!” Chris shouted from the front.
“I intend to.”
I jumped the remaining distance as the chopper landed. The ground was hard, crusty, and swirling with dust. I held my M16A4 rifle high and pointed as I sidestepped towards the mountain.
I approached from the opposite side of the encampments I’d seen from the air, and easily made my way towards the tunnel entrance. I already heard muffled voices as I made my way around the narrow bends, and I made sure to step carefully and quietly.
There they are.
Two guards sat playing some kind of game to pass the time, while Ryan and Chase sat on the ground, a thick collar and chain around their necks. I bided my time, watching the two guards until one of them stood up and exchanged a few words of Arabic with the other. From what I could understand, he had to take a piss and the other one was telling him to go far away because he disliked the smell.
Finally, I lucked out.
When the other one went out the tunnel at the opposite end of the room, I slipped into view of Ryan and Chase, signaling for them to remain quiet.
Keep it quiet, that’s the key.
I tensed and sprang, brandishing my rifle as a club, slamming the butt of it against the very top of the guard’s head, maximizing the chance of a quick snap of the brain against the skull and a clean knockout.
It worked.
I reached for the waistband of his robes and withdrew the key. Ryan and Chase were quickly freed. We ran, quietly at first, but once we passed out of the tunnel system, it didn’t matter. By then, the other guard would have returned and it was all a matter of speed.
So
we bolted, we hauled ass down the slope towards the dusty patch of grass where the chopper was hidden under cover of darkness. I could see the metallic sheen where moonlight caught the side of it up ahead, just past the boulders, maybe 200 yards. It was going much easier than I’d thought.
A little too easy.
And then it hit me. How could I be so stupid? Some of the tunnels ran to exits on both sides. Some only accessed one side of the mountain. If they’d wanted to hold Ryan and Chase securely, prevent any possibility of extraction, they would have held them in a one-way tunnel accessed from the encampment side. These guys weren’t exactly worried about their own escape.
Fuck…
Which only left the obvious conclusion.
They were baiting us…
But there was no enemy fire and no one gave chase. We were a hundred yards away. I heard the chopper whir and the lights flash on as Evan and Chris prepared for a quick take off.
Shit, that’s it!
The moment I turned around, it was too late. I held my hands in front of me, warning Ryan and Chase, just as a flash of orange, yellow, and grey sprang from the mountain behind us.
Stinger missile.
The world exploded. I flew back. A searing pain in my chest and the taste of blood in my mouth were all I remembered. Hands dragged me back and hoisted me up. Thumping, thudding, heavy sounds.
Chapter 12
One Year Ago…
“Astrid Carmichael speaking, who is this?”
My mom’s voice intoned decorously over the phone, showcasing her recently acquired formality. Ever since I moved in with Ace, we spoke less often and I hardly every saw her.