by Xyla Turner
My parents thought I had post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) but that was ruled out. Well, they said I exhibited slight signs but ruled it out, since I was not reliving the events, avoiding situations that reminded me of war, had no negative changes of beliefs or feelings, and I wasn’t feeling hyper. I was quite the opposite. I wasn’t feeling at all.
Some of my military brothers, Key, Buzz and Jeb, had a hard time assimilating back into society. They said they'd rather just live in the world of war over there because it made sense to them. Nothing about living back here in the states made sense. Relationships seemed to be strained, loved ones distant, and of course the constant reminder that you are a product of your environment. The army life, the only way.
We lived it, breathed it, and became it. Then they wanted us to return to civilian life and function as civilians. It was fucked and so were many of us. Maybe we were the damaged ones? The ones that could mentally make it in the civilian, non-military world existing as a type of the living dead.
My mom said there was a TV show about the dead walking around after a zombie apocalypse. Apparently, they aimlessly staggered from place to place, hopelessly looking for their next meal, and starved at a slower pace than the humans. She told me that story as she cried for the umpteenth time because I didn't want to come out and eat.
I didn't like the daylight hours; it reminded me of the times while stationed in Baghdad we were all outside playing catch or a game of chess. The good times before we headed towards our various destinations. The sun was shining and the sand from the truck convoys was always in the air.
Why I moved outside of my hometown in Onley, Pennsylvania, I didn't know, but the beach was close here. Maybe it was to be closer to what was familiar from both worlds. I tried to stay with or near my folks for a little over two and a half years, but they were worrisome and I had to leave.
Why Lily? I wasn’t sure, but nothing mattered anymore. All my money from my time away had been put in savings so now my rent was paid in advance, my truck paid off, and I lived a simple life. All I needed were the essentials and that's how I lived.
My cooking skills were subpar, but my best and favorite meal was breakfast. Lunch and dinner were usually sandwiches or things that could be easily heated to make a meal. My grocery shopping usually took place at night right before the store closed. There were times when I had to make an appearance during the day, but I usually slept during that time and spent my nights awake.
I didn't have a television. I have an old radio that can only get a few stations. Occasionally, I turned it on and listened, while others times I just sat and read books.
My family tried to reach out on a regular basis and I tried to answer so they wouldn’t make a trip to find out what was going on with their only son. They wanted me to get a job and do something to keep my mind active. These were the words from my father, who was well-read on everything about war, especially the symptoms and ramifications of being soldiers. He usually informed my mother and she would cry, then curse the war and everything about it.
I was an only child, so this made everything about my family relationship intensified to ridiculous degrees and they could be obsessive.
When I was overseas she wrote daily letters, with my father’s insertions of course, even if it was just sharing her day; telling me about her latest pinochle debacle and some fruit combo that would be entered in the upcoming fair. As annoying as they might have been, it was probably the one thing of normalcy that kept me going or even in my right mind.
I had brothers who had no one, so Janice was their adopted Mom, to the point where they regularly wanted to know how she handled her cheating pinochle partner’s latest antics. Before long, the reading of letters from Janice became a communal event.
Guys would walk up to me and say things like, “Man, what did Mom say to Lois again?”
It was unreal but that was our life and we lived it and breathed it, until it was time to go. Some went on a mission and never returned. Some returned as less of a person than what they were and some returned, but they would never be the same.
To the army’s credit, they tried to keep us entertained, but the temporary pleasures of a benefit concert or a celebrity visit were fleeting. These events were appreciated but the lasting wounds that no one would ever see are far worse than anyone could imagine.
Knock.
Knock.
That couldn’t be anyone but that damn woman from upstairs. She had not showed up for breakfast like she did the week before, so I figured my debt was paid off. I hadn’t heard from her all weekend and that was good because her perky demeanor early in the morning was annoying as shit.
If it was her, she wouldn’t leave and at some point would start banging on the door. She needed her firm little ass smacked but that wasn’t my job. At this point, my job was to survive her visit. My hope was that she’d lose interest and move the fuck on. I had no interest in her and she seemed like she needed a friend or a pet.
“Yes,” I said as I opened the door.
“Ahh, you are here.” She beamed her white teeth my way.
Her eyes resembled those big eyes on the cartoon characters with long eye lashes that could occasionally get in the way. She was beautiful and fearless but she was also crazy as shit.
“Get your stuff, so we can go,” she said.
Yup, crazy.
“Go where?”
“To the nursery. We have to get some things for the backyard.”
We?
What?
I ran my fingers through my hair because I always felt like I had missed out on a conversation that took place only in her head. She just fucking makes decisions and then tells me like I’m supposed to read her mind and understand the words that she blabbers on and on about.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked.
She laughed out loud.
She always laughs out loud and it’s a contagious laugh that coats over you and seeps in to stay. I could hear her laughing even when she was not around. It’s not a sound that I can say I’ve heard before, but it is one that I won’t ever forget.
“Zou, our back yard.” She kept laughing but managed to point towards the back of the building. “It has food, flowers, and other things that we need to take care of. Ollie and I planted it a few years ago because the landlord didn’t care. This helps us to keep things organic and it’s another way we make income. Ollie isn’t at his best right now; the chick upstairs is never home so that leaves you.”
She pushed into my apartment, for the sixth time, since I never invited her inside.
“No, I didn’t sign up for this. I signed up for a place to stay. I pay my rent, mind my fucking business, and I just want to be left alone.”
I swore to God, if she laughed I would probably turn her over my knee. She was trespassing anyway, so spanking her ass would not be so out of line.
It must not have been the time because she did not laugh but said, “You have a truck, so come on silly. We need the extra space, otherwise I’d use my car. Go put on a shirt because I don’t want the women beating me up to get to you.”
Then she parked her ass on my couch and crossed her legs. Leaving no room for debate or even a counter argument.
What the hell?
I growled out loud, turned towards my bedroom and that was when I heard the laugh.
It was seeping into me and that was something I could not afford.
****
“Hey there, Phoebe. How ya doing today?” the clerk asked, as we walked into the humongous nursery filled with plants, vegetables and flowers sorted by the various products each one produced.
“Hey,” she sang and hugged the older woman standing in the middle of the dirt aisle. “How’s Emily? Is she over the ‘I hate Mommy stage’?”
“Ha, I wish. Now, it’s the ‘I hate Mommy and Daddy stage.” The woman with the salt and pepper colored hair laughed. “I welcomed Pete to the club. He’s walking around like a lost puppy.�
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The two women laughed out loud at the poor man’s misfortune and proceeded to go towards the end of the aisle.
I must be chopped liver because not only was I not introduced, but she didn't even turn around to see if I’d followed the cackling women.
I did, but the point was I had been ignored.
“So, who’s your friend?” the woman asked.
“Oh my God,” Phoebe shrieked and ran over to me. “I'm so sorry.”
Both arms snaked around my left bicep as she hung on and those big eyes landed on me. “Please, forgive me. I'm so used to coming here by myself. I just got caught up.”
Fuck.
What was I supposed to do or say when she was holding onto me like that and her face filled with remorse. My head nodded and her smile showed those bright teeth behind pouty lips, almost blinding me. Not literally, but figuratively. It was like her smile engulfed a person in warmth, much like her laugh.
Phoebe’s thumbs swiped my arm twice, then she let me go. I didn't realize I had inhaled her scent; it was a sweet warm fragrance. I didn't realize I’d kept it trapped in my nostrils until she let me go and I exhaled.
Holy shit.
Phoebe apologized again and said, “This is Zou. He's my neighbor and he's volunteered to help with the backyard.”
What world did she live in because she said that with a straight face? The woman damn near threatened to stay in my place until I put my shit on to leave. Parked her ass on my couch and everything.
“The name is Goliath,” I corrected her.
Phoebe turned her head with that fucking smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Ahh,” she nodded.
“So glad you volunteered. This girl right here has been running the project, practically by herself, and she does it well.”
What project?
I had scoped out the grounds before I actually moved in. When I went out back, there was a huge space but it was covered with black plastic, hiding what was underneath. I assumed there was construction being done and dismissed the view.
It was surprising that there was an entire garden out there where produce was cultivated and then sold. That took entrepreneurial skills, management, and a lot of other talents that didn’t jump out when looking at the annoying woman.
“Oh and my name is Rose. Yes, I know I work at a nursery and it's ironic, but I didn't name myself,” she chuckled.
“Nice to meet you, Rose.” I held out my hand.
She gripped my extended palm and the color rose to her cheeks.
“Oh my.” Rose fanned herself with her handkerchief.
Phoebe smacked my chest and said, “See what I mean. Now imagine if you would have come out with no shirt.”
What the hell was going on?
My groin tightened slightly as my eyes landed on Phoebe’s. Her smile caused a warmth to pass through my blood. Though I did not know what type of look I was giving her, for the first time since I met her, she blinked, stopped smiling, and turned her head to avoid my gaze.
“Oh yes,” Rose added.
“So,” Phoebe cleared her throat, “let’s get everything I will need because I have a lot to do before dark.”
We did not spend a lot of time there since my neighbor had everything already mapped out to the last nail needed to secure the tarp.
When we arrived back to the apartment building, I helped her bring everything into the backyard and it was definitely not the same as what I saw when I first moved in.
“Thanks, Goliath.” She put emphasis on my name. “I can handle it from here.”
“This dirt is kind of heavy. Do you need me to drag it somewhere?”
She looked around and my eyes dropped to her denim short-shorts, emerald tank top and the slide-on athletic shoes.
Damn.
Nope, I wouldn’t be able to handle much more of her.
“It’s okay.” She looked back up at me. “I think I can handle it.”
“Okay.” I turned and rushed to get away from the woman who was affecting me in more ways than I’d care to admit.
Thank you for reading the first three chapters of Extraction!
You can finish reading by clicking HERE!
Keep reading for chapter 1 from the current series Just Ride, Let’s Ride, Just Right, & Just Dream in The Legion of Guardians Motorcycle Series.
Just Ride: Legion of Guardians MC (Book 1)
Don't FUCK with Bikers
The night was perfect. I was riding the bull like a pro as my friends cheered me on. I clutched the rope while the big brown beast twisted right then left, tipped forward and back, and spun in a circle.
Granted it was mechanical, but I owned that machine. My tightly coiled thighs we were burning as I stayed on the bull, and my chest pumped with adrenaline knowing I could actually make it because I practiced. Not necessarily on a bull, but on a few good men back when I was still on the road.
The countdown music had begun over the country tune that was playing loudly in the background.
“Kylie, Kylie!” they chanted. It seemed like everybody was shouting for me to win. The two women before me had taken some nasty falls.
It was my first weekend back in the sleepy town of Manor, Pennsylvania. I had never planned to return, but once I did, I caught up with Lori and Shay for a ‘girls night out.’ Well, they caught up with me, since I was camped out at my mother’s house and daddy dearest had yet to know I was back.
My mom was diagnosed with cancer and needed additional help. She was actually too proud to tell me that she was sick, but once I pieced everything together, she swore me to secrecy. Nobody else was to know and especially not my dad. They had been divorced for nearly eight years, and I swear, all of the emotions and feelings they have towards each other still remain even after my mom walked out on him. A woman doesn’t just walk out on the mayor of a town and think there will be no backlash.
Kylie knew that Susan O. Rutgers, her mom, knew there could be consequences but the woman was a political machine. She was sassy in her own right and taught me to be the same. Her personnel team created a campaign that kept her out of town for months at a time and expressed that due to irreconcilable differences and their individual work schedules, they wanted to focus on their job duties and raise their two daughters. They separated for a year and then made the divorce final afterward. My mom was from Manor and had a corporate job in town. My dad was the mayor of Millersville, a small town near Manor, about an hour’s drive east.
Phillip Mills, my dad, would not dare taint my mom’s reputation because he knew how voracious she could be. He was no one’s fool. Susan would eat him alive and get him back for old and new. Even to the point of never admitting defeat or failure, that was the Rutgers’ way. Hence, why I was not to breathe a word about Mom being sick.
My sister, Sheryl, didn’t even know about Mom’s ailing health. She had moved away after college and never really came back. After marrying her college sweetheart, they moved to his hometown in Orlando right after Mom and Dad divorced. We rarely talked, but after I told her I was not on tour anymore, she finally agreed to let her son visit with me for a week.. Mom and Dad always chalked up her indifference to the family was because of our parent’s divorce. I just thought she had a life of her own that she wanted to be present for. The same was for me when I was on the road, I didn’t talk much to anyone back home besides Shay.
“Kylie, Kylie!” they continued to chant.
My feet were tightly tucked under each side of the mechanical bull and I had a tight grip on the worn leather strap. Those upper body workouts were really paying off and Ricky would be really proud of me for holding my own with the stubborn, meant to throw your ass to the ground, bull.
There was one more hard jerk and after twirling my hips around to taunt the crowd, the bull came to a slow stop. Everyone chanted and called my name.
The good news was at thirty-two years of age, I still had it; my figure, my stamina and my fight. The bad news was that the mayor of
the Millersville would know before the night was over that his daughter was back in town.
“Oh my God, girl! I cannot believe you just survived that. Every woman for the past three weekends hasn’t lasted thirty seconds on that thing!” Lori exclaimed.
“Yes, hon-neey!” Shay was shaking her head. “You got that right. I’m not getting my ass on there. A concussion is not in my future.”
Taking the bottle of cold water from Lori, I shook my head. “I see not much has changed. You are always thinking about the worst-case scenarios.”
“Somebody needs to.” Shay nodded her head in reference to her worrisome tendencies.
I had on a white tank top and the pool of perspiration now on my back was not a sexy look. Therefore, I stood in front of the large industrial fan to cool off as my blond hair began to fly all over the place.
Shay looked up towards the door and said, “I’ll be right back.” She quickly walked away toward the bathrooms.
“I’m going to get some drinks. Do you want your usual?” Lori asked.
“No, I’ll take a Sprite tonight.” I needed to be responsible and sober, just in case Mom was not feeling well later.
Lori nodded and moved towards the bustling bar. She would be a while because she never spoke up or used her sex appeal to get the bartender’s attention. That was fine by me because before I did another line dance or decided to climb my ass back up on that bull, I needed to cool off.
“See you can hold your own on a machine,” a raspy voice said close to me.
My entire body came to attention as I not only heard the words spoken near my ear but felt them pour over my skin. Slowly turning my head, my gaze met with piercing gray eyes that penetrated through me like a bolt of lightning. His face was chiseled like that of an angel. He had sharp facial features and high cheek bones that any model would kill for. That salt and pepper goatee promised wicked things along with the smirk on his gorgeous face. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which emphasized his face even more.