RECYCLED MEMORY

by Richardson, SH

  Never again.

  “What do we know so far?” Sebastian asked, concern clear in his voice.

  “Not much.” I inhaled deeply. I needed to check myself. “We didn’t stick around long enough to debrief the situation. Got the fuck outa there before the cops showed up and came here right away. I left Pocket inside the house with Clover. Guess that’s why she called the other women to come over.”

  “We need to figure out what Maribel’s involvement is in all this shit. Let’s head back to the house and find some answers before we figure out our next move,” Max offered.

  Range threw on his shirt and started walking toward the main house. I loved that my brothers were all in without me having to beg for their help. Buck wouldn’t have had it any other way, not for his boys. He’d raised us to think of the next man, the one who stood to the left and right of you, first and foremost. If they were in trouble, you were in trouble, simple as that, and God help you if you didn’t have your brother’s back. We were taught never to operate on speculation and supposition; we couldn’t formulate a decent plan if we didn’t know what we were facing. Only Maribel could give us what we needed, but she and I had some other shit to deal with first.

  “Hey, baby.” Max kissed his woman, Haven, on the cheek as soon as we stepped inside. “How was work today?” he asked.

  “Don’t you hey baby me! You fucked that skank bitch Marci, and now you’ve got the nerve to kiss me with the same mouth you used to kiss her.” Haven folded her arms across her chest and jutted her chin toward Max.

  “What the fuck, Heaven? Are you kidding me right now?” Max was not happy.

  “Yeah, asshole, how could you fuck that bitch?” Clover shouted at Range, who just smiled.

  “Yeah, Clove, get his ass,” Shelly tried to join in the melee but was too busy puking her brains out in the kitchen garbage can.

  “Come here, Sebastian, my love.” Ashley held open her arms and embraced her man. “I’m so glad you had enough good common sense not to fuck that slut-monkey with your wonder dick. You put these other guys to S-H-A-M-E.” Jesus fucking hell.

  That’s when I noticed the setup, and it all made sense why the women were up in arms. Empty wine bottles scattered across the table, clearly meant they were all drunk off their asses or well on their way. Used tissues balled up and thrown around everywhere, including the floor, implied that one or more of them had been crying. Lastly, the chairs had been moved from their original spot at the kitchen table to circle around Maribel’s as a sign of unity. Any one of those things spelled disaster, but all three together? Yeah, we were definitely fucked. The women had worked themselves up into a feeding frenzy, and our stupid asses walked right into the bowels of the snake pit.

  “Tootsie baby, we really don’t have time for this shit right now.” Range prayed for patience.

  “Don’t you take that tone with me, Range Reardon, you… you man-whore!” Great, another one.

  Range tried to appease his wife, but she wasn’t having any of it. She turned her face just as he tried to kiss her, which caused an inhuman growl to leave his chest. The shit was getting out of hand, and the only one who didn’t seem to have an opinion on the matter was Maribel. She sat quietly and sipped her wine, never once making eye contact with me, or anyone else for that matter. She looked tired and nervous. The slight shake of her hand when she lifted her glass gave away the fact that she was scared. The one thing she hadn’t lost in the last eight years was her emotionally expressive face. She could never hide shit from me that I couldn’t read in her beautiful eyes. Maribel looked so small and alone. She’d drawn so far into herself you’d hardly even notice her in the room if you weren’t looking. I felt the weight of her sadness in the middle of my chest as if it were my very own. I needed to know her again, understand what her life had been like without me, and what I hoped it could be with me. That couldn’t happen here; not now. I picked her up from her chair, forcing a yelp to leave her mouth, and cradled her in my arms as if she weighed nothing. She tried to protest, but it was of no use. I knew what I wanted, and it was her. It was always her.

  “Mem? Where you going, brother. We need to talk,” Range tried to stop me.

  “Deal with this shitstorm.” I flicked my chin at the crazy-ass women going nuts in the kitchen.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll sort it.” If they manage to live that long.

  I walked out with Maribel in my arms and slammed the door behind me. It felt so good to feel her again. Her sweet smell that I never forgot no matter how hard I tried permeated my nose and filled me with a sense of calm. She snuggled her face into my chest and breathed in deeply, the heaviness of today’s events finally taking its toll on her tiny limbs. We had so much to talk about, things she needed to know, but where would we start? My squad and I had a saying out on the battlefield.

  Forget about yesterday. Tomorrow is what really counts.

  Fitting. It applied to civilian life and the situation I found myself trapped in with Maribel. How could we forget when it was yesterday that robbed us both of ever having our tomorrow?

  TWENTY-NINE

  Maribel

  I DIDN’T HAVE TO look up from Marcus’s warm, muscled chest to know exactly where he was taking me. I knew the route from the main house and exactly how long it took us to get to the destination. The peaceful quiet of the lonely woods was just what I needed to clear my head and consider all my options for getting out of this fucked-up situation. Those men were going to come back. Sooner or later, they’d want their money. The thought of them making good on their threats gave me a shudder, and I couldn’t stop the silent tears from flowing down my cheeks. Once again, I found myself alone in an unimaginable situation with no discernable outcome. Drew bet money and lost. He told some unknown bookie that I had the cash to bail him out, and then he disappeared. Those were the cold, hard facts. The sooner I accepted them, the better off things would be. He was yet another man in my life who let me down, broke my heart, and ran away like a fucking coward, leaving me to clean up his mess. Just like Marcus.

  We made our way inside the cabin, and Marcus sat me down on the cot wrapped inside a blanket. He dimmed a small utility light low enough to cast a shadow on the wall but not enough to sting the eyes with brightness. From my viewpoint, the playhouse hadn’t changed much on the inside and even had my pink pillow in the same spot where I’d left it. There was a military-issued sleeping bag on the floor next to the cot, and I wondered if Marcus had been staying here since his return. Déjà vu? Or just a horrible nightmare that continued to play over and over again until it finally ruined me forever. Fate dictated that we would end up back here together someday, unfinished business and all that. But was it worth my sanity to rehash the past? Or was it best to just let it go and move on?

  “You should try and get some sleep, little pocket. You’ve had a rough night.”

  “I’m scared, Marcus,” I whispered to him inside the dimness of the room. “What am I going to do when those guys come back and I don’t have the money?’

  “Shhhh. Rest easy, baby. I promise nothing is going to happen to you. I swear on my life.” Marcus used his strong hands to help tilt my body sideways and lie down fully against the once familiar cot. Would I seem weak if I begged him to hold me and never let go? I was suddenly so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, even though I was afraid of what might happen if I closed them. Gun shots and blood spatters. How could I sleep with so much shit running through my head? My mind might have said no, but my body screamed ‘Hell yes, bitch.’ Lights out.

  “I missed you so much while you were gone, tough guy.” That was the last thing I said aloud before darkness took over and everything went completely black.

  _______________

  Daylight arrived much too soon, and with it came the gruesome flashbacks of the night before. Marcus shot a man in the leg, Granted, he was an asshole, but what if the police had a warrant out for his arrest? I threw back the blanket and noticed that he wasn’t inside the ca
bin and his sleeping bag had not been disturbed from its original spot. I rushed outside into the cool morning air and right into a vision that was truly sent by the gods. There, just past the clearing, was Marcus Mecken, shirtless and glistening with sweat as he posed and flexed his muscles. I cursed under my breath that my downhill vantage point had only afforded me a view from the back. I could only imagine the look on his handsome face against this gorgeous backdrop. His movements were measured and fluid, like a dance with no partner. The sheer beauty of it took my breath away. Gone was the lean body of an eighteen-year-old; in its place were the scarred remnants of a warrior god who’d seen his fair share of violence and death. I shivered with a sudden need to feel his heavy weight between my legs, to draw from his strength and experience that small taste of freedom once our bodies joined. Marcus held the power to destroy me. Letting him back into my life when I’d fought so hard to forget him would surely mean my end. My only chance was to resist those long-forgotten feelings and turn away from him once and for all.

  “Morning, baby.” He finished his sexy dance, threw on his shirt, and then turned to face me. “It’s cold out here. Where’s your blanket?” Shit. Bring that sexy back.

  “I’m fine, Marcus,” I answered with an unintended edge to my voice. “Do you think those men called the police last night, you know, after you shot one of them? They could be out looking for you with a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Humph! That’s the last fucking thing I’m worried about. Men like that don’t use cops to handle their business, Pocket,” he answered with certainty.

  I guess that made sense. Why would a criminal who was involved in illegal underground fights want to engage the police and risk getting themselves in trouble? I stood there fidgeting with my blood-stained uniform. The awkward silence stretched longer than I felt comfortable with between the two of us. I had to think of something to stop me from gawking at his perfectly chiseled body before I did something stupid and ruined my plan.

  “Thanks for that, by the way, showing up when you did. Saving me.”

  “Don’t thank me for that shit, Pocket. I’ll always be there when you need me.”

  “Sure, Marcus, whatever you say.” My sarcastic tone was far too telling.

  “Care to fill me in on what that shit was all about last night? You borrow money from a loan shark or something?

  “No, Marcus, I didn’t borrow any money. My boyfriend, Drew, probably asked them to stop by the diner and forgot to tell me about it.” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m sure he sorted it all out by now.”

  “Really? Is that the same boyfriend I saw smack you around a few weeks ago and steal money from your purse? He seemed like a real fucking gem, Maribel. Husband material, that one,” Marcus snarled with displeasure, and I knew a change of subject was definitely in order.

  “What were you doing out there? It was beautiful.” I pointed to the spot in the clearing.

  “Tai Chi,” he replied.

  Marcus walked a few paces and stood in front of me. He was so fucking handsome I was seconds away from dropping to my knees and begging to lick the sweat from his balls. When had he gotten so big and tall? Focus, you idiot. Focus.

  “Buck took me to train with Master Lim to help with my anger issues, so I’d stop fighting in school. Lim used to say my aura was at war with my heart, and if I didn’t do something about it, I’d end up dead. Guess it worked out.” Stop staring. Resist, resist, resist.

  “I never knew that. Master Lim sounds like an interesting man, and from the looks of things very good at teaching tough guys Tai Chi.” I grinned.

  “He was. Died a few years back at the ripe old age of one hundred and three.”

  Marcus smiled warmly at the memory. My mouth watered at the sight of his signature dimple poking out of his chin, daring me to stick my tongue in it. Resist, resist, resist.

  “I’m sorry, Marcus. That must have been hard.”

  I reached out and placed my hand on his bicep. Big mistake, huge mistake. The electric current from touching his warm skin was immediate, so much so, I drew back and studied my hand for powder burns. He felt it, too; the sly smirk on his beautiful lips told me as much. I took a step back to create some much-needed distance between us and get my shit together.

  “Yeah, it was, but that was yesterday, little pocket… Today is what counts.” He licked his full lips, and I almost fainted dead away right there on the spot.

  He really knew how to turn on the charm.

  Cocky bastard with his sexy dimple.

  Time for me to exit, stage left.

  I wasn’t exactly sure of the time—early was my first guess—but I was scheduled for a shift at the diner by eleven, and I couldn’t show up late. I’d almost rather face off with the goon squad than tell my best friend Odie the shit that Drew was mixed up in. If she needed another reason to hate his guts, that was definitely gonna put her over the edge. She’d begged me months ago to dump his ass and move on, but I’d been too stubborn to listen to reason. Loosing another person I cared about wasn’t easy for me; it was the reason I kept my circle of friends so small. Without Drew, I would’ve had no one. His occasional declarations of love helped me feel less alone and afraid. I owed it to him to stick and not abandon him at the first sign of trouble.I couldn’t afford to spend any more time alone with Marcus if I had any chance at all of keeping my vow. The man was my greatest temptation then, now, and always.

  “I need to get back to town. My shift starts soon, and I need to shower and change.” I pointed to my dirty uniform.

  “Not fucking happening, Pocket. Get that shit the fuck outa your head. You’re not going back there,” he demanded.

  Marcus closed the distance between us and glared down at me with an absolute lethal look in his eyes. This wasn’t the old version of Marcus, the undisciplined tough guy; this was the trained killing machine who had no problem shooting people in the leg if that’s what it took. As deadly as he appeared, I knew, deep down, he would never hurt me; not physically anyway. His insistence that I follow his orders was enough to fuel my old feelings of hatred toward him. He needed to know I wasn’t the same girl he’d left behind.

  “You can’t tell me what to do, Marcus. Who do you think you are? You think you can come back here after all this time and boss me around? Fuck that! I’m not sixteen anymore, and you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.” I turned to walk away, but I didn’t get far.

  “YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME!” he yelled at my retreating back, halting my escape mid-stride.

  “What did you say?” I blanched.

  “I said… You. Fucking. Lied. To. Me,” he growled. “Harvard fucking Medical School, Pocket. Ring any bells? You never told me you got accepted early to the best fucking Ivy League college in the world.” Shit. How did he find out about that?

  “Because it didn’t matter, Marcus. I wasn’t going to accept the scholarship anyway.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? Why the hell not?” he pushed.

  “Because I loved you more, you big idiot,” I screamed in frustration. “I loved you more than some stupid school with stupid people and stupid classes. I wanted to stay with you and be happy for once in my life. Instead, you decided I wasn’t good enough and left me high and fucking dry.” I stabbed him in the chest with my finger.

  I wasn’t about to tell him the heart-wrenching consequences that took place after he enlisted into the Marines and left for boot camp. He didn’t deserve to know. Eight years, and the only thing he had to say was I didn’t tell him about Harvard Medical School? It was as important to me now as it was then; the expectancy of greatness? I no longer coveted its greedy embrace. I might be younger than Marcus, but I knew what I wanted and was willing to fight for it. Too bad he couldn’t say the same.

  “You think I left because I didn’t love you? I left because—” he tried to engage me again, his tone much softer than before, but I’d had enough.

  “Look, I don’t care ab
out the past anymore. What’s done is done. I need to get home and change before I’m late for work. Now, are you driving me, or am I calling a cab? Your choice, tough guy.”

  “It’s not fucking safe, Maribel, don’t you get that?” he pleaded.

  “Then I’ll do what I’ve always done and take care of myself.”

  Marcus was right, of course. I wasn’t safe, not by a long shot. My false bravado was enough to convince him to drive me home, but it wasn’t enough to stop my palms from sweating or the panic I felt when I thought about going back to the diner. With any luck, I could finally gethold of Drew and get this mess figured out before it was too late.

  THIRTY

  Marcus

  I WANTED TO PUT her over my knee and spank her sexy ass till it turned bright pink under my palm. Maribel was in deep shit, and she damn well knew it. Boyfriend made a mistake, my ass. The guy was a fucking pussy. Any man who left his woman to take the heat for his fuckup wasn’t worth jack shit in my book. Maribel had always been a stubborn mouthy little thing, which was cute when we were teenagers, but that shit could get her ass killed if she wasn’t careful. Behaving irrational by going back to work at that diner with total disregard for self-preservation was plain fucking reckless. I hadn’t learned nearly enough about the big boss who’d sent those two muscle-headed fuckers to collect, and it was only a matter of time before they’d take another crack at it. Our little skirmish brought out a side of Maribel I had never seen before, and I didn’t like it one bit. She was bitter and resentful towards me, emotions I understood considering the way things had ended between us, but we were in the trenches together now.