Free at last - Box Set

by Annie Stone

  We learn about the history of the Marines, the rank structure, first aid. We study formations and uniforms. We learn how to handle our weapon, clean it, and always have it with us. We start our close-combat training. Without weapons, with repurposed weapons, and with our rifle, which is going to accompany us throughout boot camp.

  We don’t talk much. Usually we’re half dead when they stop yelling in our ears. But the first friendships develop somehow. Killian Hastings is my bed neighbor. Cool guy. A natural-born soldier, a natural-born Marine. He passes every exam like he was made to do this. If he wasn’t cool, I would hate him. But he’s a team player, always thinking about others first. He is not a leader and never will be, but he is the glue you need to build a team.

  Joey Montana is the second comrade I would call a friend. He’s a joker, always up for some banter. And let me tell you, I need it—especially in the third week when we start our swimming and water survival training. The pressure is getting worse. Because this is the first time they can kick us out of boot camp. Fail twice, and you can forget about being a Marine.

  It’s enough to drives you to despair. But we don’t have time for that, either. We are not supposed to think, and our superiors take that idea seriously. And they’re really good at it.

  Our training gets harder by the day. The stronger we get, the more they expect from us. The more our bodies get used to the strain, the tougher it gets. We’re made to repeat everything, in order to engrain it into our brains and make it muscle memory—so that we’re able to do every exercise in our sleep. It’s tiring. But nobody ever said boot camp was going to be easy.

  It does help against heartbreak, though. The harder I work, the less I think of Mac, simply because my brain’s capacity is insufficient to deal with anything beyond survival.

  And then there’s the part of Phase One I dread the most. The gas chamber. I don’t want to go in. But we have to. If we leave it, they send us back in. If we don’t obey, they kick us out of boot camp.

  I’m standing there with my gas mask doing calisthenics when they tell us to take off our masks. I take it off and feel panic trying to conquer my insides. I can’t do this, is the only thought in my head. I can’t do this, but I have no choice. I can’t give up because I wouldn’t know what else to do. I can’t go back home, back to that situation. That might make me a coward, but the thought of it just rips my heart out. Every time Dad kisses her, I want to grab her from his arms and punch him in the face because he’s kissing my girl. But I don’t think the caveman method would sit too well with him.

  No, I need to stick to this. It’s all I have.

  There comes the command to put our masks back on.

  It’s over. My panic recedes.

  The thought of Mac has saved me, even if I wish I could entertain more positive thoughts of her.

  Before we go to bed, we get one hour of square-away time. It’s not every night, only when our DI says so. We have to make sure our gear is up to scratch, and while we’re not allowed to shower or sleep, we’re allowed to shave, which feels good. We’re also allowed to read and write letters. I keep getting letters from Carey, but I don’t read them, and I don’t write back. I just can’t. It makes me too sad. I feel horrible about leaving him. The only thing that makes me feel a little better is the idea that I’ve left him with Mac.

  “Hey, man,” Joey says, sitting down beside me. “There’s this girl I like. She wrote to me, and I want to write back, but all I can think of is the fact that I want to stick my dick inside her.”

  I smile.

  “Something makes me think that wouldn’t be such a good idea,” he says. “Can you help me out?”

  “It depends where you are in your relationship. Have you ever had your dick inside her?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Everywhere.”

  Across the room, Killian laughs. “I don’t believe you. If you’d actually been inside her ass, you’d know what to write to her.”

  “A sonnet to her juicy ass?” Joey asks, laughing.

  “Thinking of her juicy ass, I can survive the harshest gas,” Killian says with mock severity.

  “Oh man, that was horrible,” I laugh, wiping tears from my eyes.

  “When I see her juicy ass, I want her to blow my brass,” somebody else quips.

  “Dude, I lose my fucking wits, sucking on her awesome tits,” yells another bard from the other side of the dorm. I laugh because it just feels good to be young and stupid for a change.

  “Let me be blunt, I’d fuck her cunt.”

  “She sucks my dick, it’s hard as a brick.”

  “Good thing none of you have to make a living as a poet,” Joey says. “I actually like her, okay?”

  “Hey, man, there’s no need to wallow. She might like you too—does she swallow?”

  “Well, if she doesn’t suck it up, you can serve it to her in a cup.”

  We laugh and laugh until we hear: “What exactly is there to laugh about, recruits? Free time’s over. A hundred and twenty seconds to get showered. Go!”

  A hundred and twenty seconds isn’t that long, but you learn really quickly to only wash the important parts. Normally, this would include my dick—just in case it gets sucked—but there’s nobody here I would want on the job. And besides, I kind of swore an oath I would only ever let Mac do it.

  Fuck. I really didn’t think that promise through.

  Overall, it gets easier. A person can get used to anything. The tough training becomes second nature, and it gets easier to adjust to the whole drill. Phase Two is mainly weapons training. We’re sent to Edson Range, at Pendleton, for three weeks, where we practice marksmanship. We have to pass several exams, but they prepare us well. And let’s face it. We’ve been through worse. Still, when we get our first badges for marksmanship, it feels good to have achieved something tangible, to get to tick some boxes.

  I don’t know whether it’s because we’re going through the same experience, or maybe you just get used to each other more easily in times of crisis, but Killian and Joey become like brothers to me. I don’t want to put Carey down, but I would entrust my life to them and they to me.

  It also quickly becomes clear why the buddy system is such a hit. It is much easier to make it through difficult situations when you have moral support. We cheer and egg each other on—whenever we’re not too tired to open our mouths. Without my two buddies, this would be much harder.

  Killian is from Texas and looks like an all-American boy. Normally. There’s hardly anything left of his blond hair, but his blue eyes still shine, even at the ends of the toughest days. He’s tall, not as tall as me, but then again, few are. He has a sunny disposition, and nothing can faze him. He’s always cool, never reacts to people teasing him. Not that a lot of them would try. I guess with his looks, you’re predestined to be respected.

  Joey, on the other hand, is small. Sometimes I wonder aloud how he passed the minimum height and weight requirements—but only to tease him. He’s not actually that small, and he has endless strength and endurance. Where Killian and I have trouble with our height, Joey always gets through. Not that I’m jealous or anything.

  At the end of our marksmanship training, the platoons compete with each other, and we win, breaking out into enthusiastic cheers. This really lifts morale on our team, and it also earns us a bonus. We’re allowed to make phone calls. A privilege I don’t use…

  Still, the next week feels like we’re on break. They take our measurements for our gala uniforms, and any medical conditions are treated. It’s only four weeks left. Then we’re done. The goal during our final phase is to put everything we’ve learned together and polish our initial skill set. This includes an exam and a performance test that I pass with flying colors.

  I’m stronger than I was a few weeks ago, not just physically, but mentally, too. I no longer have any doubt: I know what my life is going to look like, and I have accepted it. Physically, I’m somewhat wider, having built up more muscle. And it’s made me feel more a
t home inside my body. Often, when you’re tall, you subconsciously hunch down in order not to stand out. And even though I’ve always been relatively confident, I’ve always had to bend down to communicate with other people. Which messed with my posture. And, in psychological terms, it does the same to you as walking through life with a bent back.

  But now? Now I have a completely different outlook.

  Boot camp has given me a new confidence, the type of confidence you can only gain knowing that you’ll be able to defend yourself in any situation you’ll ever face—be it with words, weapons, or your own bare hands.

  At the end of boot camp, we’re divided into groups to do a final exam lasting two days. It’s a combat simulation testing us in different stress situations, including sleep and food deprivation, and danger to your body and your life.

  It is difficult, but it’s surprising how you can turn into a completely different person in such a short period of time. Twelve weeks ago, I would never have believed I could do this. Now, it seems like I was born to do it, like I’ve never done anything else in my life. And it feels good. It shows what I’ve achieved, what I can achieve if I make up my mind. A lot of it is physical, but it is the mental strength I’ve gained that really surprises me.

  After twelve weeks, we’re done. Finally, I want to say. But that’s not how I feel.

  Now it feels like I’m leaving my family all over again. It’s not a good feeling.

  Joey wants to join the infantry, while Killian and I are going to do twenty-nine days of Marine Combat Training before joining the Marine Combatant Divers. At least it’s good to know I don’t have to leave everybody behind again.

  After graduation, we’ll get ten days off. Killian has invited me to Texas, and I’ve decided to accept because I still can’t imagine going home. And I have nowhere else to go.

  Everybody is desperate for our graduation ceremony. Not just because it means we’ve made it, but because they’re proud. They want to show their loved ones what they’ve achieved. Personally, I don’t care about that part of it, but I haven’t told the others that when I’m done here, I won’t have anybody waiting to congratulate for me.

  At the ceremony, we stand in formation to listen to the final talk, the finish to this chapter of our training. As Marines. All around me, my comrades are hugging their mothers, sisters, and girlfriends. All around me, there is love.

  But I’m all alone.

  “Hey, soldier!” I hear the voice behind me but don’t turn.

  For a moment, I stay completely still, certain I’m hallucinating. Finally, I turn around.

  And there’s Mac, standing in front of me in a summer dress. She is so beautiful my breath stops for a moment.

  “Marine,” I say softly.

  She smiles. “Hey, Marine.”

  She comes closer, somewhat unsure about how to act, before throwing herself around my neck. I hug her back, pick her up, and squeeze her really tight.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers in my ear.

  Fuck, hearing that from her really turns me on!

  When, after half an eternity, I put her back down, I look into her teary eyes. “How did you know?”

  She shrugs. “I’m stalking you.”

  I smile. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life. “Oh, really?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t tell me, but I wanted you to know how incredibly proud of you I am. I knew you’d make it.”

  Right now, I feel ten feet tall instead of six. No, wait! I’m not even mortal. I’m a god!

  My girl is proud of me. Is there anything in the world better than that?

  “Carey’s here, too,” she says.

  I look around and see him standing a little off to the side. He looks insecure, like he doesn’t know whether he’s welcome here. I hate myself for making my brother question whether I care about him. I run over to him and pull him into my arms.

  “I’ve missed you, bro,” I say quietly, patting him on the back

  “You never wrote back,” he says, his fingers clawing into my uniform like he never wants to let me go again.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t. I always wanted to, but I couldn’t. It would have broken my focus.”

  Carey nods. “I thought…”

  “I’m sorry, man. I always want you in my life. You’re my brother. The only family I’ve got.”

  “You’ve got Mac, too,” he says quietly, and I look over at her. She’s standing a few steps away, her cheeks shiny, looking at us but giving us privacy.

  I nod. “I’ve got Mac, too, but not like I want her.” Oops. That just came out. I wasn’t planning to tell Carey.

  But he says, “I know.”

  I give him a surprised look. “You do?”

  “I’m not blind. Your goodbye kiss was pretty obvious,” he says. “And I’m not deaf, either. Dad and Mac fight about you all the time.”

  “That bad?”

  He shrugs just as Mac steps closer. “Is everything okay, boys?”

  I nod, putting my arm around her shoulders to pull her close again. I plant a kiss on her head.

  “Hey, Tilman!” Joey calls, coming toward us. “You’ve never mentioned a girl.” He smiles at her charmingly and she steps closer to me.

  “Hands off,” I joke before I introduce him. He kisses Mac’s hand and smiles at Carey.

  “My parents want to go grab a bite to eat. They wanted to invite my friends. You coming?”

  I look at Mac and Carey.

  “They can come,” Joey says quickly.

  Mac shakes her head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet, but I need to go.” She avoids my eye, and I know she’s thinking about Dad.

  I make an effort to hide my disappointment as I tell Joey, “Carey and I’ll be there in a second.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mac whispers.

  “It’s okay,” I say, even though nothing is okay. In that moment, I realize—no, remember—that she’s never going to leave Dad for me.

  This needs to stop. Otherwise I will not survive it.

  “How long do you get off?” she asks.

  “Ten days.”

  “Are you coming home?”

  “Home. Nice word, but I no longer have one,” I say, shocked at the bitterness in my own voice.

  She nods, tears running down her cheeks. “I—”

  “Let it go, Mac. Let it go.”

  She quickly presses herself against me and runs away without turning around again. I look after her.

  “Hunt…”

  “She’s never going to leave him, is she?”

  Carey shrugs. “No idea, man. But I wouldn’t wait for it.”

  2

  Mackenzie

  I bury myself in work at the gym for the rest of the day. I would have loved to join Hunter’s friends for something to eat, but Carter’s jealous of his son and doesn’t believe me whenever I tell him I have no feelings for Hunter—other than friendship.

  I like Hunter, he’s a good man. I’m proud of him for surviving boot camp. I know he has other tough tasks ahead of him if he actually wants to join a special unit in the Marines. But I’m not in love with him. I didn’t lie to him when I said I could have fallen for him if we’d met under different circumstances. But that doesn’t mean it would have turned out that way, just that there would have been a possibility. Anyway, it’s futile thinking about it because this is how it is. Period.

  I never thought Carter was the jealous type. We’ve been together for more than two years, and he has never complained about another man before. Not about my colleagues, not about strangers whistling at me in the streets. Not that it happens very often—I’m not a supermodel or anything like that. I’m curvy, though not fat—at least I wouldn’t call myself fat—but I’m not exactly slim, either.

  Not that it matters. Carter has never let himself be bothered by any of that. Hunter, however, is a different story.

  When I get home in the evening, Carter’s sitting on the couch. I can h
ear music coming from upstairs, so I guess Carey’s home, too.

  “Where were you?” he asks, folding his paper.

  “At the gym.”

  “And before that?”

  Ah, so he knows.

  “At Hunter’s graduation ceremony,” I say. There’s no point in lying.

  “And when were you going to tell me that?” he asks, his voice sounding slightly sour.

  I sit down on the arm of a chair. “I wasn’t.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me?”

  “I knew you’d be pissed, but I wanted to show Hunter that I’m proud of him.”

  He laughs bitterly. “What’s there to be proud of? What he’s doing is suicidal.”

  “Carter, he’s an adult. He makes his own decisions. It’s his life. He has to be happy with it. But he needs his family.”

  Carter raises his eyebrows. “So he’s family to you, is he?”

  It feels like he’s just stabbed me through the heart. “He’s your son. I’m your girlfriend. That makes us family.”

  He snorts. “I’m his family. You’re not related to him.”

  “Family is not just marked by blood.”

  Carter laughs mockingly. “True, sweet Mackenzie. You can also be connected through other ties, such as sex.”

  It’s like he’s slapped me across the face. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Did you sleep with Hunter?”

  “No, of course not! I would never cheat on you. And I’ve told you more than once—I’m not in love with him!”

  “But he’s in love with you!”

  “That doesn’t change anything about my feelings, Carter! I love you.”

  He puts his head in his hands. I sit down next to him and put a hand on his back.

  “Carter, please. I know the situation is not easy, but you have to trust me. It’s you I love. You and nobody else.”

  He slowly sits back up and looks into my eyes. “I wonder what a beautiful girl like you sees in me.”