[Conduct Unbecoming 01.0] Conduct Unbecoming

by LA Witt

  “You heard me.”

  His eyes flicked from mine to my hand and back to my eyes again. I knew I was right now, knew it without a doubt from the way he fidgeted. I was surprised I couldn’t hear his heart beating a million miles a minute.

  Barely whispering, he said, “Off the record?”

  “Off the record.”

  He hesitated, but finally shook my hand.

  After he released my hand, I sat back but kept my voice low. “Now, tell me what really happened.”

  He squirmed, avoiding my eyes. “I was at Palace Habu,” he whispered. “Heard about it online, seemed like a good place to—” He cut himself off abruptly, flinching like he thought he’d already said too much.

  “It’s a good place to meet guys,” I said softly. “I know.”

  He stared at me, eyes wide.

  “I’ve been there,” I said. “Go on.”

  He relaxed a little more. “This guy, he bought me a drink, and we…we were talking. Flirting.” Aiden’s face colored, which deepened the shade of the bruise on his cheekbone. “But the more we talked, the drunker he seemed, and he ordered us both another round. And, I don’t know, he wanted to take things faster than I did.”

  My blood turned colder with every word.

  He went on. “He wanted to go back to his place, but I wasn’t sure. So he said we should go to a different club. Said there was one, I don’t know, up the street.” He gestured as if we were standing on Gate Two Street now and he could indicate the club in question. “It was even farther off the main drag than the Habu, so I figured I could live with that.” He shivered and closed his eyes.

  A phantom throb marked the part of my arm that jackass Marine had grabbed when I’d tried to leave the club without him a lifetime ago. I shuddered, imagining how things might have happened had I not snarled in his face and stopped just short of threatening the structural integrity of his balls. This kid didn’t strike me as nearly aggressive enough to make someone like that back off, not without some physical force.

  My gaze drifted to his shredded knuckles. Barely whispering myself, I said, “What happened next, Aiden?”

  He tightened his jaw and spoke through clenched teeth, probably trying to keep himself from losing his composure. “We got outside, and he…” Aiden closed his eyes again and forced out a breath. “I don’t remember exactly what happened, but he grabbed me, told me the drinks he’d bought me weren’t free, and…” He waved a hand. “I panicked. We fought a bit, and as soon as I got away, I ran like hell.” He laughed bitterly. “My dad would be proud if he knew I didn’t let a fucker that big overpower me. I think I even busted the guy’s lip.”

  The chill in my veins ran deeper. Aiden wasn’t a big guy, but he was no slouch. If someone was big enough to overpower him…

  I swallowed. “Do you remember his name?”

  Aiden’s eyes darted toward the pen and pad that remained on the floor.

  “Off the record,” I said.

  He took a breath. “I think he said it was Glenn.”

  Fury swelled in my chest, and that phantom throbbing in my arm intensified. Why was I not surprised that son of a bitch had been the one to fuck with Aiden? This was both the problem and the advantage of a tiny island with a tiny military population--the gay community was microscopic, and if one person knew your face, others probably did too. Shane knew Glenn’s reputation. I’d experienced it firsthand. Now Aiden had stitches courtesy of the jackass Marine.

  Aiden closed his eyes. His Adam’s apple jumped. “If my command finds out I was even there, I am so fucked.”

  “I know,” I said. “Believe me, Aiden, I understand. But you’re doing the right thing here. By telling me.”

  “Except this is off the record, and if I name him,” he said, speaking quickly now, “I’ll have to say what happened. Where I was. My chain of command, I don’t want them to—”

  “Easy, Aiden.” I patted the air with both hands. “Your chain of command isn’t going to find out.”

  “Then…”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But how do I explain this?” He gestured at his face.

  I thought for a moment. “You do much around the island? Outdoor things?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Go hike to Hiji Falls this weekend,” I said. “Take some pictures. Post them on Facebook. Make a few offhand comments about the rocks being slick, and you fell and busted your ass.”

  “Or my face?”

  I shrugged. “The rocks are slick, and it’s steep. Trust me, it can be done.”

  He chuckled. “I suppose the guys I work with would buy it if I busted my ass.”

  “Good,” I said.

  His humor faded. “What about Glenn?”

  “I want you to take a weekend or two off from going to Palace Habu,” I said. “Three to be safe. After that, I don’t think he’ll be a problem.”

  He raised his uninjured eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  I smiled. “He won’t be a problem.”

  I thought he might press for more information, but the ensign just exhaled, rolled his shoulders and then extended his hand.

  “Thanks, MA1.”

  “Anytime, Ensign.”

  ~*~

  I strolled through the door of Palace Habu, giving the crowd of featureless silhouettes a disinterested scan before continuing toward the bar.

  This was my third attempt to find him, and the third time was the charm, because there he was, healing lip and all.

  He wasn’t such an asshole when he first started chatting someone up, and he was still in his pleasant, charming mode. Tonight’s prey was a young one too. Judging by the shaggy haircut, he wasn’t a service member. In fact, he was probably someone’s kid, because the drinking age here was twenty, and if this kid was of age, it was by the skin of his teeth.

  I scanned the crowd once more, gauging where everyone was, everything that was going on in the club. I hadn’t noticed it the first time, but Glenn unsettled the whole place. There was a kind of palpable tension in the room that suggested every man was uneasy, and no amount of booze could settle everyone’s nerves. Eyes darted toward Glenn and the kid. Guys paused in their conversations to glance his way. The bartenders, the deejay, the guys trying to flirt with each other—probably half the men in this club kept an eye on the loose cannon and his target. I imagined a few of them wanted to do something about it, but what could anyone do that wouldn’t draw the JPs in here and get us all in hot water with our chains of command?

  I took a deep breath and started across the room toward him.

  Any other guy, I’d have brazenly put my hand on his elbow or his waist, but this was a drunk, volatile Marine. Unexpected physical contact was only a good idea if I wanted to wind up lying on the floor and spitting out my teeth.

  Instead, I went from the front and sidled up to him.

  “Glenn?” I said with a huge grin. “I thought I recognized you.”

  He looked at me and did a double take. His expression darkened, but before he could snarl something at me, I beat him to the punch.

  “You know, we really got off on the wrong foot last time.” I winked and laid a hand on his forearm, leaning in just right to put my shoulder between him and the kid. “I wondered if I could buy you a drink, and maybe we could try again?”

  “Um, excuse me?” The kid shoved my arm. “Could you be a little more rude? He’s talking to me.”

  “You know, you look a little young for this place.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why don’t you go see if the bartender can mix up a Shirley Temple for you?”

  He looked at Glenn, lips parted and eyes wide. Glenn just shrugged.

  The kid rolled his eyes and stalked off.

  Be pissed all you want, kid. I just did you a bigger favor than you can imagine.

  Turning my attention back to Glenn, I smiled. “So, about that drink?”

  He eyed me suspiciously, but then shrugged. “I’ll take an Orion.”
<
br />   “Why don’t you go find us a booth, then?” I nodded toward the other side of the room, pretending my skin didn’t crawl with both nerves and disgust. “I’ll get our drinks.”

  At that, he relaxed, and his suspicious look turned into a slimy grin.

  As soon as he’d gone, I flagged down a bartender. “Orion and a Coke.” No alcohol for me this time.

  Drinks in hand, I moved to the booth where Glenn waited, his arm slung across the back of the bench, just waiting to coil around my shoulders like a goddamned python.

  I slid into the booth, and it took everything I had not to shudder or visibly cringe at the thought of him wrapping that snakelike arm around me. Fortunately, he didn’t.

  He took a long drink. “So,” he said, breathing beer fumes in my face, “we did get off on the wrong foot last time, didn’t we?”

  “We did.” I put a hand on his knee and leaned in as close as my already queasy stomach would allow me to. “I wanted to apologize for that.”

  “Well, I’m less concerned with apologizing,” he said, running his hand up my arm. “I’m more interested in seeing if you’re willing to make up for it. Especially after you chased off my friend over there.”

  “Your friend?” I laughed. “He’s a kid. Seems like you’d prefer a man, wouldn’t you?”

  He chuckled and shrugged with one shoulder. “If he can get in this place, he’s man enough for me.”

  The shudder almost came out, and I had to remind myself to stay focused. I put my arm around his wide shoulders and moved a little closer. “Before we go any further, there is something I want to know.”

  “Oh?” His hand slid up my thigh, and it took everything I had not to snatch his wrist away or squirm right out of my own skin. “And what’s that?”

  I raised my chin and leaned in until my lips were almost touching his ear. “How much do you value your career, Devil Dog?”

  He drew back and met my eyes. “What?”

  “You’ve been in the Corps awhile, haven’t you?”

  “What the—”

  “You want to make a scene?” I snarled. “Because I assure you, I can make a bigger one.”

  He blinked, his jaw going slack, and I had him where I wanted him.

  I inclined my head and narrowed my eyes. “I have eyes and ears all over Gate Two Street, Glenn. And in this club. You set foot in this part of town, I will know about it.”

  He laughed. “You think you’re some kind of mob boss or something, fuckhead?”

  “No.” I kept my expression and voice even. “I’m some fuckhead who doesn’t want to see some idiot Marine fucking around like every ass is his for the taking.” I paused. “And I’ve got people watching.”

  He looked past me, and his posture stiffened a little more. I didn’t have to look to know a few guys had thrown glances our way.

  “One guy calls me,” I growled, “and I promise you I will make sure PMO, the Eighteenth, the MAs, none of them get anywhere near your ass before the JPs do. And I will make sure the JPs hold you until you’re UA. You know they can do that, don’t you? How do you think an unauthorized absence would go over with your command, especially tied to an international incident?”

  He gulped.

  “And that’s if I’m feeling generous,” I said. “Do not fuck with me, Marine. Do not fuck with anyone else in this bar or any other bar around any base on this island. Do you know where I’m attached or even which branch of service I’m in? What I do?”

  He laughed. “You told me you’re at White Beach, genius.”

  “You told me you’re at Futenma.” I raised an eyebrow. “And we both know that isn’t true.” Something flickered across his expression, and it was close enough to fear to satisfy me. I leaned in closer and went on, “So I’ll ask you again, do you know where I’m attached or what I do?”

  “I…no, I don’t.”

  I grinned. “Then you have no idea who I know or what I can do. So might I suggest you take your happy Devil Dog ass back up to the base you came from, keep your head down and your dick in your pants, and just lay low until your tour here is over. Do I make myself clear?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “I asked you a question,” I snapped.

  He glared at me. “Motherfucker…”

  “Call me whatever you want,” I said. “But if I ever see you on Gate Two Street again, or I hear of you laying a hand on someone who’s wisely decided he doesn’t want to sleep with you, I will fucking end your career and make sure the only job you ever stand a chance of holding involves paper hats and fry grease.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are we clear?”

  He scanned the crowd again, and I hoped a few more guys had turned to check on us just then.

  “Are we clear, Devil Dog?” I snarled.

  “Yes,” he threw back. “We’re clear.”

  “Good.” I started to slide out of the booth. “And by the way, that kid you were fucking with?” I gestured toward where I’d interrupted the two of them. “That was a colonel’s son.”

  It was hard to tell in the low, flickering light, but I was pretty sure Glenn blanched.

  I stood and beckoned for him to get up too. Avoiding my eyes, probably thinking of about four hundred ways to break me in half, he slid out of the booth.

  I nodded sharply at the door, and if the man had a tail, it would have been between his legs as he lumbered through the crowd—which got out of his way—and got the fuck out of Palace Habu.

  The door closed behind him, and all the air left my lungs at once. I dropped onto the bench in the booth, closed my eyes and just took a few slow, deep breaths. It was done. It was over.

  A hand on my shoulder startled me, but when I looked up, I smiled.

  “Mind if I sit?” Shane asked.

  I scooted over, and he sat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he said, grinning. “I’m surprised he didn’t piss himself.”

  I laughed. “Come on, I’m not that scary.” I kissed him lightly. “Thanks for keeping watch.”

  “You really think I’d let you near that asshole without me supervising?”

  “Supervising?” I scoffed and picked up my untouched Coke. “Please. I just needed a little backup in case things got out of hand.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He kissed my cheek and murmured in my ear, just loud enough for me to hear him over the music, “And I think every man in this bar was a little turned on watching you make that jackass your bitch.”

  I laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Trust me.” He let his lower lip brush my skin. “Everyone in the room noticed.”

  “Doesn’t mean—” I sucked in a breath through my teeth as he kissed the side of my neck. “Doesn’t mean they were turned on.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” He nipped my earlobe. “But I was.”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shane

  “Oh my God.” Eric dropped onto his back beside me, panting and soaked with sweat.

  Breathing hard, I wiped my brow and grinned at him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He laughed. “Oh, it was. Believe me.”

  “Good. Give me a few minutes, and we’ll do it again.”

  “You’re gonna kill me before this night’s over,” he said with a hint of a slur in his voice.

  “Should’ve thought of that before you went all badass cop with me in the room.”

  He looked at me, grinning. “I didn’t realize that kind of thing turned you on.”

  “Neither did I.” I ran a fingertip down the center of his chest. “But apparently it does, so keep that in mind.”

  “I’ll make sure to have you come along next time I do any ops.” He winked. “So you think he’ll come back and mess with anyone?”

  I snickered. “I think you put the fear of God into him. I’d be surprised if he left his base between now and wheneve
r he transfers.”

  “Good.” He slipped his hand into mine. “And all joking aside, thanks for being there. It was good to know I had backup.”

  “Looked like you had it under control.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s a little easier to go into something like that knowing someone has my back.”

  “You know if he’d even tried to fuck with you,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his face, “I’d have fucked his world up.”

  Eric smiled. Then he sighed. “It’s too bad the kid I talked to the other night didn’t have a wingman.”

  “I meant to ask you,” I said. “What happened with that?” Eric had been gnashing his teeth and seeing red since that night, focusing entirely on either kicking Glenn’s ass or scaring the shit out of him, and he hadn’t given me the whole story. Just that Glenn messed with some kid, and Eric was going to rain hell upon him. When that man was on a mission, he fucking focused.

  Eric lay back on the pillows, lacing his hands behind his head. “We got a call last weekend. Some kid was at Lester. Said he got caught in the shuffle when some drunk Marines got into it over on Gate Two Street, but the corpsman didn’t think his story checked out. So she called us in.” He ran a hand through his short, sweaty hair, leaving it slightly spiked. “It took me a while, but I got it out of him that he’d actually been at Palace Habu and had a run-in with Glenn.”

  “Oh, shit,” I said.

  “Yeah. I promised I’d keep it on the down low,” he said. “I didn’t take an official statement, and I said I wouldn’t notify his chain of command. And”—he met my eyes, and I could only imagine the intense, determined look he’d given that kid—“I promised him I’d take care of it.”

  “Good,” I said. “And I assume his chain won’t ask questions?”

  Eric shrugged. “They might. He had some visible injuries, and we had to at least document we’d been there to talk to him. I just kept the actual facts to myself and gave him a cover story to tell anyone who asked about the marks.” He laughed quietly. “Told him to tell people he’d busted his ass up at Hiji Falls.”

  My breath caught in my throat. A memory from early last week flicked through my mind. My coworkers and I had been at a meeting with the department on the floor above us, and one of the ensigns had an impressive bruise on the side of his face along with a few stitches in his eyebrow.