Iron Soldier

by Katie Ford

“Why didn’t you just drop a bottle of vodka in front of me?” I cautiously sip the hot tea.

  “Because you had more than enough to drink last night, thank you very much.” Mandy sticks close to me on the couch, stroking my hair and rubbing my back. “So, what happened? I didn’t hear from you after you texted me his address and that you’d gotten there safely.”

  Last night was such a blur after I left the bar with Brent, I’m glad I did at least that much. The lump in my throat is hard to swallow, but I do it and then tell her what happened.

  Mandy’s jaw dropped open and stayed that way. “You mean he fucked you, treated you like a stranger, and basically kicked you out of his apartment this morning?”

  My heart hard-knocked in my chest. When she put it like that, I couldn’t deny it. That was exactly what Brent had done. Even when I had seen that brief flash of concern on his face once he saw I was upset, the concern had been...I don’t know...like I could’ve been any girl on the street, or any one-night stand.

  “That’s fucking crazy,” she hisses. “Who the hell does something like that?”

  Not the Brent I once knew. But now I know he’s not the same boy I once loved with all of my being.

  “Just like he’s acting like he doesn’t know me, I don’t know him. Not this version of him, all angry and hurtful.” And, oh God, had he ever hurt me this morning. “Part of me wants to pack up and run off and never see him again,” I confess softly.

  “You can’t do that,” Mandy replies, squeezing my hand not holding the hot tea. “Claire, you’ve already run from him once!”

  “Yeah, and I can do it again, too,” I say, swallowing another scalding sip of the tea along with an all too familiar flavor. The taste of Brent is still in my mouth–like a delicious poison that I can’t get rid of. I lick my lips and wish I could forget everything about him, just the way he seems to have forgotten everything about me.

  “You’re a grown-ass woman,” Mandy says, her voice rising high and sharp. “Why not…” She trails off and crosses her arms over her chest, sitting back in the sofa with a fierce frown on her brow.

  Something is on her mind. And from the look on her face, it’s nothing but trouble. “What? Tell me,” I insist. Whatever it is, I still want to hear it.

  “If…maybe if you can make him remember, you could hurt him, too,” Mandy finally says after a few seconds of tense silence.

  Hurt Brent? No! I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that.” I bite my lip and cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself tightly. Then I remember that brief look of concern on his face this morning just before he practically shoved me out of his apartment. “But…”

  Mandy frowns. “What?”

  With a sigh, I put down the tea and turn to face her. “Maybe if I can make him remember, it’ll be what I need to finally move on,” I say, reaching for her hands, searching desperately for support. “Maybe it’ll be like a cleansing, like I can heal and finally learn how to open my heart again.”

  Mandy stares at me long and hard, doubt obvious in the sudden tension in her hands holding mine.

  “I--I know it sounds totally crazy, nuts off the tree,” I stutter. “And kind of New Age-y.”

  “You said it, not me,” Mandy says. She squeezes my hands. Her eyes fill with all of the love I know she has for me. “But… I feel like if you don’t do it, then you’ll never know how this story of yours ends.”

  “Yeah.” My word seems to echo in the air. Slowly, I let go of Mandy’s hands and lean back into my side of the couch. My heart is beating faster than ever. Can I do this? Can I keep on seeing him, knowing that he doesn’t remember me or our love?

  I nibble on my lip, wondering.

  “Okay–I’m dying to know,” Mandy says a moment later. “Not to be creepy or anything, but how was it? You know, the sex. How was he?” She eyes me slyly, making a motion with her hips. “He looked really hot. And fully capable.”

  Oh my God! Why is she even asking me this? I never tell her anything about my sex life. Well, I’ve never had one before either.

  I flush. In the four years that Mandy and I have been best friends, she’s never known me to hook up with anyone. I was never that kind of a girl. Brent was my first – and only – lover. While Mandy partied and drank, I was the quiet one. It was easy for me to be that way. Men didn’t interest me. Never in all of the time since Brent has been out of my life have I been curious about what it was like to hook up with another man. He was my life. Without him, my heart was dead, and so was my sex drive.

  But now...

  “Brent was good,” I say softly. Images from last night bombard my brain, and the remembered sensations sink between my legs, making me instantly wet. I squirm against the couch. “He’s good. The best I’ve ever had.”

  Mandy raises an eyebrow. “You mean the only one you’ve ever had.”

  Yes. The only. A shudder ripples through me, arousal mixed with dread. And maybe he’ll be the only man I’ll ever have for as long as I live.

  Chapter 9

  Brent

  Claire.

  She’s in my thoughts. She’s in my dreams. And whenever I have my cock in my hand, she’s all I can think about. Her round ass. Those plump hips. Her tight pussy. Wide brown eyes that threaten to see into my soul and discover all of the secrets I’m hiding from even myself.

  I don’t know why my mind won’t leave her alone. She was crazy the morning after we had sex, her attitude running hot and cold and nuts as fuck. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about her. A gorgeous girl like her is damn unforgettable, but normally that lunatic attitude would’ made me dismiss everything about her. But no, this chick is in my mind to stay.

  “You’re grunting more than usual, my friend.” Across the table from me, Nick fixes me with a look. He picks up his glass of red wine and takes a long sip.

  Around us, the sound of the expensive steakhouse is a constant hum, soothing background noise from where we sit high up on the second floor. I look over the railing, down to the rest of the packed restaurant below us, and make a vague noise.

  “Another ape-y grunt actually doesn’t tell me anything,” Nick says.

  He’s trying to bribe me. Again. Whenever he wants me to do something connected to this wedding—or just wants to get me out of the house and away from the giant TV that can take up my attention for days at a time—he drags me out for food and drinks. This place is actually really nice. Hundred dollar steaks, more fancy beers on tap than even Nick can sample in one night, and a nice atmosphere where two guys can talk without shouting at each other.

  “There’s nothing to tell, man.”

  “Right.” Nick’s raised eyebrow tells me he’s not buying what I’m trying to sell. “Well, since you don’t want to talk about what’s bugging you, let’s deal with the bachelor party stuff. You are my best man, and that is your job after all.”

  “I thought I was supposed to plan everything and make it a surprise.”

  “I don’t want you to surprise me with a damn thing. Tell me everything so that I can decide whether or not I want to go along with it.”

  Controlling asshole. Then again, it’s nothing I didn’t know before I’d agreed to all this best man and bachelor party nonsense.

  My beer glass is warm in my hand when I lift it to my mouth to take a drink. We’ve already been through our steak, broccoli, and potatoes meal and mostly just shot the shit to unwind from the long week at work. But now that the food is gone and we’re down to just the drinks, he wants to get serious.

  “So, what do you want to know? You’ve got strippers, a gymnast jumping out of a cake, and a trip to a cigar bar at the end of the night. Easy. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about. And as long as you don’t touch the girls, nothing that will stop your wedding from going forward as planned.”

  The girls I hired for Nick’s bachelor party aren’t my idea of hot, not like Claire with her plus-sized body and thick brown curls. Crazy or not, this girl has ass for days. But Ni
ck likes the regular, boring stuff. Blondes in G-strings. Silicone tits and flat asses. Blow job lips fresh from the plastic surgeon’s office and acrobatic bodies that can turn into pretzels with the right motivation. Like cash.

  So that’s what I got him. He’ll be in hog heaven when the bachelor party goes down, and I’ll be bored as hell, but I’m not the one getting married, so it’s all good.

  “Okay, cool.” Nick reaches for his wine glass again. “So now that we’ve got that out of the way, tell me why you’re growling like a bear with a bee stuck up its ass.”

  “I’m not growling,” I growl at him.

  My best friend rolls his eyes. “Just tell me what the fuck is going on before we have to arm wrestle or some other macho bullshit.”

  I have to smile at that. “But I like that macho bullshit.” I do. It helps me get my aggressions out, and it feels damn good.

  “Too bad,” Nick mutters. “Now spit it out. I see how distracted you’ve been lately. Is it work? You feeling restless again and want to move out of Virginia?”

  Yeah, he knows me too well. And normally, he’d be right. I’ve been feeling more restless than usual, but it’s nothing compared to this damn...obsession with Claire.”

  “Naw,” I say. “It’s--” And I cringe just as I get ready to say the words. “It’s a woman.”

  Nick practically drops his wine glass. “A woman? You?”

  He knows I don’t get attached to women. I have the occasional one-night stand, but otherwise, I’d rather chill at home with my right hand. Or go out for drinks with his soon-to-be-married ass.

  “Yeah, me,” I grunt at him.

  I’m shocked about it too. Once I’d realized what was going on, it had taken me days to even accept it. Well, to be fair, I’m still trying to accept it now.

  He ducks his head and looks around the room like he expects the ceiling to fall down on us at any second. “Is the world coming to an end? What’s going on here, Brent?”

  “Don’t be a smart ass,” I grumble.

  “Sorry,” Nick says after taking a good look at my serious expression.

  My whole face feels tight, and my game is completely off. It’s been that way since I took Claire back to my place to fuck. Maybe even before, when I first saw her at the bar that crappy night that chick tried to pick me up with free drinks.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

  “What’s going on, Brent?” He leans closer, frowning. “Getting attached to a woman is not really your thing. In and out and gone—isn’t that your motto?”

  Damn, he makes it sound like I just go around pile driving chicks then running out the door.

  “It’s this chick, this woman,” I tell him. “The one I went home with the other night. Claire.”

  “Damn, you even remember her name.” He looks amazed. “Must be serious.”

  “Come on, man...”

  “Sorry, it’s a hard adjustment to make. I’m the monogamous one who can’t wait to get married. While you’re...you’re you.” Nick shrugs, looking confused as hell. “You’re the one who draws women like a magnet to steel but can’t be bothered to get into a real relationship because you think dealing with them, and people in general, is more trouble than it’s worth.” His eyebrow does that thing again. “This Claire must be a really unusual one. If she’s even truly human.”

  “Shut up.” I chuck a breadstick at Nick, but he easily catches it, laughing his head off.

  He’s right, though. I’m not a people kind of guy. Most humans annoy me. I wouldn’t pour gasoline on them if they were on fire. But Claire is a weakness I can’t explain. There’s something about her that’s completely captivated me, and I can’t seem to forget about her, even though I know I should.

  She’s sweet, intense, and gorgeous. And yeah, a little bit crazy, but I guess crazy is what does it for me now.

  “The lone wolf finally found somebody worth coming out of his cave for,” Nick says. “Hell, sometimes I’m surprised you’re even friends with me.” He raises the wine glass to his lips. “Then I remember what an awesome guy I am and think, of course this crazy hermit wants to be my best bud. Who wouldn’t?”

  I roll my eyes and blow out a laugh. “Everything always comes back to you, huh?”

  “Why not?” He shows off his teeth in that familiar grin I’ve come to trust my life to over the years. “So tell me, what’s so special about this woman who’s stuck in your brain?”

  “Hell, I wish I knew.” And I did wish that with all my damn soul. “It would probably make it easier to refocus on work and everything else I’ve been distracted from the last few days.”

  “You mean like my wedding to the most wonderful woman in the world?”

  I laugh again, shaking my head, and reach for my beer. “Yeah, like that.”

  But soon, Nick’s smile disappears. “Seriously though, Brent. You should just go for it. Don’t fight the feelings you have for this girl. If she’s gonna be the one to bring you out of this self-imposed isolation, I’m all for it. You deserve happiness, man.”

  My own smile slides off my face. Happiness. Is that I’m risking finding with this girl? I sigh and take one last drink of my beer. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

  Chapter 10

  Claire

  My boss sits behind the desk, looking through the folder I just gave him. Hours of research condensed down to a few sheets of paper, essential phone numbers, and legal precedents. Yay, me.

  Despite being distracted like crazy since I made the decision to keep seeing Brent, I managed to get all of the work done for Dave and get it done on time too. Before I left work a few days ago, I started to doubt I could actually do it. All I could think about was Brent.

  Yes, I’ve already decided to keep seeing him and basically force him to remember me, but the whole thing feels just...strange.

  Why doesn’t Brent remember me? Had I meant so little to him in the first place that I was so easy to dismiss? What’s going on with him?

  I’m a born researcher, so once I pull myself together from that night of blazing hot sex at Brent’s place (along with the compounded heartbreak) I fall back into my old habits. Social media. Google. The newspapers. I search everywhere online for signs of Brent, but nothing comes up.

  After that giant wild-goose chase, I call my mom back home to see if she or anyone in town has heard from Brent since he enlisted. Not a word, no sign. Not that I’d expected there to be.

  If Mandy hadn’t been there to see Brent in the flesh, I probably would’ve convinced myself that I had imagined seeing him. Imagined being with him and making love to him.

  But no, he’s here. Aloof and cool in a way he has never been to me. As gorgeous as ever. Making love to me in ways that are both familiar and different. Yet he doesn’t remember me at all.

  The whole thing is such a mystery to me. A mystery and a firestorm of pain.

  “Claire?”

  My head snaps up at the sound of Dave’s voice. He’s done looking through the file I gave him and is staring at me. Flushing hotly, I try to look as if I was hanging on his every word.

  “Yes?” I adjust the glasses on my nose that I only wear in the office and try to match his serious expression.

  “I asked if you had the Paulsen case completed,” Dave says. He slides the manila folder with the work I was so proud of off to the side on his overcrowded desk. So much for that.

  My cheeks grow even warmer, and I shake my head briefly. Of course, he would ask about that case after assigning it to me a few hours ago. Granted, under normal, non-Brent circumstances, I would’ve had it done already, but still. “No.” I twist my fingers together in my lap and force them to stay still. “I mean, almost–I’m just waiting to hear back from one doctor’s office, and—”

  “Claire, look, I don’t know what’s going on.” Dave sits back, and the leather hydraulic chair squeaks under him. “But you’ve been far too distracted lately.” He narrows his eyes at me like I’m a hostile witness on the
stand. “Is there something you’d like to speak to me about?”

  For a moment, I almost consider it. Dave is probably the smartest man I know. To be honest, other than Mandy, he is one of the only people with whom I ever exchange more than pleasantries. And it would be nice to have an outsider’s perspective on the matter.

  But he’s also my boss, and just because we have a decent working relationship doesn’t mean I can tell him about the tornado of confusion in my head. God! I just told Mandy about Brent and everything I went through with him. I can’t even begin to stumble through a similar story with Dave. Not right now.

  “No,” I say softly. Talking to Dave about Brent would be a giant mistake. Work boundaries exist for a reason.

  Dave nods but still looks concerned.

  I force a smile. “I’m really sorry about the Paulsen case, but I’ll have it for you soon.” I pick up the pen I’d put on his desk earlier and stick it in my neat top-knot just over my ear. “And I swear that I won’t be as distracted in the future.”

  Dave looks relieved. “Good,” he says with a warm smile. “Glad to hear it.”

  As I walk away from his desk, I suppress a sigh. I can’t believe that I had actually considered talking to my boss about my personal life! What kind of a freak does that?

  A freak at her wit’s end, maybe.

  At my desk, I sit in front of my computer and hold my hands poised above the keyboard. The day is almost over, and I know I have to make the most of my time if I want to finish up that case file. But before I can even start working, Brent’s scowling face comes to the front of my mind.

  Dammit.

  Why can’t I just stop thinking about him?

  But since there’s no one out there ready to answer the question, I force my mind back to my immediate problems. Like work.

  Chapter 11

  Brent

  My giant BFTV (Big Fucking Television) is perfect. It has every channel I could ever want. All of the football, baseball, and basketball games I want to watch. HD Porn at the touch of a button. The incredible sound system I bought with the TV projects all of the yells and moans into every inch of my living room. It’s man heaven. Or at least, it usually is.