Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  “How about I start with six?” Jim answers coolly.

  “This isn’t a fucking negotiation!” Knox thunders.

  Jim clamps his mouth shut, but he doesn’t shirk back. My eyes travel over his ropy muscles, dipping down to the bulge of his pants. He’s packing, and I know from Knox’s pat down routine, that it ain’t a gun. I don’t mean to squeeze my thighs tight. I don’t give my pussy permission to get wet. I’ve just never seen someone challenge Knox so nonchalantly. There’s something about his quiet confidence that’s hard not to admire.

  “Fine, man. Four it is. You’re the boss,” Jim agrees. His tone is flat though. His ice blue eyes flicker between my legs and he quickly licks his lip before returning his focus to the job. It was a second, less than that, but it was enough to make my nipples turn to pebbles. Who is this guy?

  “Take yer shit and get out.” Knox nods to the brick. “You’ve got one week. Don’t make me send someone collecting.”

  “I won’t.” Jim quickly snatches the block of blow from the table and thrusts it into his jacket pocket.

  We all stand up. The men don’t shake hands. Instead Knox and Jim stare at each other like a couple of dogs ready to fight.

  “Let’s go, man,” Tommy nods toward the door.

  Jim doesn’t move. Tommy grabs him by his elbow and leads him away. As Tommy turns the knob on the door, Jim turns and looks back at us.

  “I’ll see you in a week.” His eyes are clearly locked on me.

  “Bye.” I’m not sure why the word escaped my lips. Let alone why it came out all high-pitched and singsongy.

  The men disappear through the door and Knox quickly walks over to it, locking it behind them.

  I start to make my way to the bathroom when Knox marches up to me.

  “You fucking little slut!” Bright white light jolts over my eyes as he throws me into the wall.

  His hand squeezes around my throat, locking me in place and cutting off my air.

  “You think you’re here to flirt with my guys, bitch?” The back of his hand slices across my lip and I can instantly taste my blood.

  “Knox,” I sputter, “please.”

  His fist is wrapped in my long brown hair and he tosses me to the floor. I hit it with a thud.

  “That’s right, Holly. You’ll be begging me all night.” He unbuckles his belt and quickly flicks the leather free, snapping it toward me like a whip. “You’ll beg me to stop. Then you’ll beg me to fuck you.”

  2

  Holly

  With a quick jerk of his wrist, Knox snaps the leather belt across my bare leg. The pain spreads over my flesh like wildfire. My eyes water, but I don’t cry out. I’ve learned he likes that more. I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction.

  Knox sneers down at me. His brown eyes flicker with a rage I’ve seen more times than I’d like to admit.

  SNAP!

  Tears spill onto my cheeks as welts begin to rise on my calf. I desperately try to get my feet under me. I push myself up, attempting to stand.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Knox’s foot lands square on my stomach. I collapse back onto the floor, gasping for air. He knocked the wind out of me.

  “I’m not even close to being finished with you, Holly.”

  Knox wraps the belt tightly around his tattooed fist, his shoulders hunch over as he towers me. The silver buckle of his belt dangles menacingly before me, promising pain to come.

  “Knox, please… “

  SNAP!

  The buckle hits my arm like a rock.

  “No! Please! I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry!” I choke out the words, tears flooding my face. I hate myself for begging him. I hate myself for ever staying with him. I hate… him.

  Knox stands taller, proud that he broke me down. I frantically look to the lone exit from his condo. It’s behind him. The only other escape is the balcony. I’d never survive. Eighteen floors up would kill me.

  Wouldn’t that be better?

  I push the thought away. No. I won’t let him kill me. I won’t go down without a fight. Not anymore.

  Knox lifts his arm again; I scuttle back on the floor. I won’t lie here and let him beat me. I need to try.

  His belt buckle comes down, but doesn’t bite my skin. I scurry backward as I see the fire in his eyes blaze out of control.

  “Fucking cunt! Where do you think you’re gonna go, huh? You want me to chase you around the room?” He snarls.

  “Knox, please. Put down the belt,” I plead.

  “After what you did? I brought you into my home and took care of you, for how long? Years! Treated you like a little princess and you sit on my lap with your pussy leaking for some other guy?” He leaps toward me, the belt buckle glistening under the light.

  “I didn’t!” I protest, shifting backward as quickly as I can manage.

  SNAP!

  “Fuck!” The buckle meets my ankle and blinding pain sears through me. I don’t have time to hold it. To check it. To see if it’s broken. I need to get away.

  I move back and thump into the coffee table. Quickly, I cower under it, then tip it over, trying to barricade myself from Knox’s abuse. The table hits the floor with a thud. My mind reels for a better plan. I silently pray for help when the cool metal slides against my hand.

  His gun.

  The gun I’ve never seen him without, a single day. The one that’s always out. Always loaded. The silencer, always screwed on tight. It just slid from the table to the floor beside my hand.

  I blink, uncertain of how the gun ended up in my hand. I don’t remember picking it up. I don’t remember aiming it at him. My brain is in survival mode.

  Knox is perfectly still. The smug smile on his face tells me just how serious he thinks this is. He hasn’t even dropped the belt.

  “Oh, come on,” he smiles. He’s clearly amused. “You gonna shoot me?” He takes a slow, deliberate step forward.

  “Stay back!” Hot tears blur my vision. I raise the gun to his head and cock it. It’s heavier than I imagined.

  Knox’s smile fades. “You won’t,” his voice is confident but he doesn’t move. “You need me, Holly. We need each other.”

  My hand trembles. If I drop this gun, I know how this ends. My body covered in welts as he roughly fucks me. I know that tomorrow, he’ll buy me expensive clothes, and that we’ll never talk about this. About what he does to me. Until next time. When it happens again.

  And again.

  “No!” My voice is steadier than my hand. “I don’t need you anymore.”

  “If you shoot me, you better fucking kill me, cunt! I’ll fuck you with that gun, you understand me?” Knox booms.

  I drop my hand, and Knox sneers as he thinks that he won. Instead, I aim between his legs, I’m going to shoot his dick off. The trigger squeezes easily under my finger. I close my eyes and lower the gun.

  BANG!

  “Fucking-shit-fuck! You bitch!”

  I open my eyes and Knox is on the floor holding his knee. Not what I was aiming for, but satisfaction still swells up inside me as I watch the blood stain his jeans.

  There’s no time to waste! I spot his car keys on the bookshelf and run across the room to grab them.

  “I’m gonna slice you open! Do you hear me?” Knox shrieks.

  Clutching the keys in my free hand, I grip his gun tight in my other. I hold it up again, pointing it at him as I maneuver around his bloody pool growing on the floor.

  “Fuck you, Knox.” I grit the words through my teeth. “If you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you with your own fucking gun,” I yell bravely.

  I run to the door and don’t look back as I pass through it. I know he can’t chase me down, but somehow I’m not convinced he won’t find a way. I race down the stairwell so fast I feel like I’m almost tumbling down the flights of stairs. My ankle is screaming in pain, but I can’t stop. I can’t risk him catching me. Not now.

  Knox will kill me. Or have someone else do it. The fluorescent lights ble
nd together as I race through the underground parking lot to his car. Jumping in, I half expect him to hit the window, like some kind of goddamned horror movie villain that won’t die. He’s been far worse than that for me, for a long time now.

  The key turns in the ignition and the car starts. I back out and Knox isn’t there. I make it all the way to the exit, expecting this to somehow fall apart at any second. I shiver despite the Miami heat.

  Nothing stops me. I pull out onto the street and drive away into the night. All my fears of never being able to escape slowly begin to fade as I realize what I just did. I’ve been with Knox so long; I had convinced myself freedom was impossible. I toss his handgun into the passenger seat and drive away. Knox and his horrors grow smaller in my rearview mirror as my mind fumbles to come up with a plan. I’ll need to ditch the car. I need to get out of Florida. But where will I go? How will I get there?

  I only know two things right now.

  I’m free.

  If Knox tracks me down, I’ll be dead.

  3

  Jake

  “Petty Officer Armstrong!” My head snaps up and my eyes refocus to the present. Back from the hundred-mile stare – the look I get when the past haunts my memories.

  “Chief!” I answer Chief Warrant Officer Andrews, who’s been assigned to represent me at my hearing.

  My Captain’s Mast is a blessing compared to the court-martial I could’ve been up for. However, just because it’s a lesser punishment doesn’t mean I’m not about to get tossed out of the SEALs. I know I’m not going to spend any time in a cell, but I might be given my marching orders. Back to civilian street.

  “You come to attention when I address you, Petty Officer! This is a charge parade not a fucking tea party,” Andrews barks, his cheeks billowing out like a sail in high seas.

  “Yes, Chief!” I stand at attention. Eyes forward. Chin up. Shoulders back. I refuse to let my gaze wander over to the man now responsible for representing me. A man I’ve served with for years. Closer to me than my own father. My gut twinges as the thought marinates in my brain. Just like my own Dad, he’s a man I’ve let down.

  “Now, listen here,” the Chief continues, “you’re gonna march down these flats and before you enter the quarterdeck you’re gonna remove your headdress, got it?” He doesn’t wait for my response. It wasn’t a real question.

  My eyes flicker over his aging face. He meets my gaze with a hardened stare, his brown eyes leveling me. “You’re gonna march over to the podium and bring your heels together in front of the Captain. You don’t say a word. Not a fucking peep. You let me do the talking, understand?” He paces in front of me nervously.

  Again, I don’t answer, but this time I can see that Andrews wanted me to. He stops and peers at me with a look that makes me wish I could hide in my own skin. How is it that I can face terrorists? I can shoot killers dead without a second thought, but a look from Andrews makes me feel like a nervous recruit again.

  “Yes, Chief!” I answer.

  Andrews nods slowly, happy with my delayed response. His sea boots squeak against the floor as he goes back to pacing.

  “Good. Now, the Captain will hear your charges. He’ll listen to what I have to say and then he’ll ask you to speak. A word of advice, keep it short, sweet and true. No excuses. No one wants to hear anything other than your total acceptance that what you did was wrong, get it?”

  “Yes, Chief!”

  “I’m gonna recommend that we keep you, Armstrong. I’ll do what I can. However, there’s a good chance you’re being discharged. If that happens,” he stops in his tracks and looks me square in the face, “I want to thank you.”

  I can’t hide the surprise spreading over my face like an oil slick on the ocean. My jaw slackens, “Thank me?”

  “Yes,” the Chief’s face is inches from my own. I can see the broken capillaries in his nose that tell the tale of more fun nights out with the boys than he probably remembers. The smell of his tobacco chew wafts around me. “Listen, son, I know you. I’ve known you for many years now. I know as well as anybody that this was a mistake. An idiotic mistake, but it wasn’t you. You’re more than your worst decision. There isn’t a single person on this earth that wants to be judged on their lowest moment. Trust me, we’ve all done shit we aren’t proud of,” he claps my shoulder and his eyes soften.

  I look down at the toes of my boots, wishing with every ounce of my soul that I could take it all back. But I can’t.

  “If you do get the boot today, it doesn’t change what you did for us, for your brothers, or for your country over in Afghanistan. You carried out that mission and saved lives. This…” he waves his hand searching for the word, “shit show that you’ve gotten yourself into, it’s never gonna taint that. So, thank you. Keep your chin up and be proud of what you did right. Even if your life feels all wrong now. You’ll always have that.”

  Andrews clears his throat loudly and squares off his jaw. As he clamps his teeth together, his eyes narrow and the moment between us fades away.

  “Now, march your ass down to the quarterdeck. Let’s get this over with,” he barks.

  “Yes, Chief!” I repeat again as I give an about-turn and do my sharpest drill down the hall.

  As I was directed, I stop and remove my hat before proceeding into the room. My arms swing by my sides as I take short, sharp steps over to the podium. I come to a standstill in front of the Captain, snap my heels together and stiffly hold my arms tight to my sides.

  Captain Bliss looks me over sternly. His thick moustache seems to add an extra layer of disapproval with its turned down sides. The look of disgust is echoed in his squinted eyes and furrowed brows.

  I struggle to focus as Andrews pleads my case. My mind is reeling, is this it for me? I joined the SEALs just days after I graduated high school. This career is one I’ve lived and breathed for my entire adult life. If I’m not a SEAL, who will I be?

  “I said, ‘what do you have to say for yourself, Armstrong?’” The Captain’s voice reaches through the thick cotton fog in my brain and gives me a shake.

  I blink as I realize everyone is waiting for me to say my piece. Swallowing hard, I open my mouth, “Sir. Sorry, Sir. I’m guilty. The cocaine was mine and I used it for recreational purposes. I have no excuse. It was a bad decision, Sir. One I’ve regretted every day since. I let down my brothers in arms and I also let down my real brother, in an act of cowardice I’ll never be able to forgive myself for. I accept your judgement and punishment.”

  “Captain, if I may,” Andrews cuts in, “I’d like to say a few words,” he waits for the nod of approval from Bliss before continuing.

  “Very well,” the Captain answers.

  Andrews clears his throat, “Sir, I’d like to add that Petty Officer Armstrong has worked with me for quite some time. He’s always been reliable and respectful; a stand-up guy. He’s served us proudly abroad on many deployments as well as at home. I see you have his file there,” Andrews nods to the manila envelope on the podium, “so I don’t need to tell you how instrumental Armstrong was in Operation Trident Fury. However, I would just like to mention that without the unflinching bravery that this man showed during that mission, our guys could have easily faced an ambush.” My Chief looks over at me, “He definitely stepped in it this time. I’m not saying he should be excused for what he did, I just want to let you know that what he did was a mistake and not at all a testament to his character.”

  Captain Bliss looks at me sternly, then to the Chief. “Noted,” he finally answers.

  The room is so quiet. Every movement of the people gathered to watch this humiliating proceeding is amplified like its being played over a loudspeaker. I can hear Andrews breathing beside me. I can hear my own heart rushing blood through my body.

  “The charges against you are serious, Petty Officer,” the Captain finally interrupts the silence. “Cocaine use is strictly prohibited, as you well know. However, given your clean record, not to mention your exemplary reputation
that Chief Warrant Officer Andrews just mentioned about your deployment with SEAL Team 8, you went above and beyond for your mission and I’m prepared to take that into consideration.” He presses his lips into little more than a slit in his face, his moustache covering his mouth like a blanket. “Your punishment,” he looks at me sternly, “you will receive a full reduction in rank, a loss of fifty percent of your base pay for two months and you must also attend an inpatient rehabilitation facility for sixty days. If you choose not to attend, which you are within your legal rights to refuse, you will be discharged. What do you choose?” He watches me carefully.

  Is it really a choice? The money and rank reduction sting, but both can be earned back. Getting a discharge would be death.

  “I accept your first option. Thank you, Sir.”

  4

  Holly

  ERREICH!

  “Fuck!” I yank the wheel hard to the right and pull back down off the curb I’d just driven Knox’s car onto. That didn’t sound good, but I don’t have time to care. I grab the ticket from the airport parking garage dispenser and shakily maneuver his precious Audi inside.

  Somehow, I manage to slide into an open parking space without crashing the car into anything else. When I ran away from home at seventeen, all I had was a learner’s permit. I’ve been behind the wheel before, but that was five years ago. I throw the car into park and fling my seatbelt off, patting my hands underneath the dashboard carefully.

  “I know it’s here somewhere,” I grunt, twisting my body into some kind of advanced yoga pose as I reach as far as my fingertips can stretch.

  “There!” I feel the bundle and pry the duct tape by the corner, peeling it back until the package fall into my hand. Yanking the Ziploc bag of money toward me, I quickly dart my eyes out my window to see if anyone around is watching. The few people in the parking garage are busy getting their bags together for their trips. No one gives a damn about what I’m doing, let alone what I’m going through.