Czar and the Queen (Golem Guerillas MC Morgantown #9)
Elazar “Czar” Freidman 1.
Early May 2063
“What…” I stop, my hand circling the gargantuan dildo sandwiched between some shirts. Fuckers. Glancing up, I see several sets of wide innocent eyes blinking back at me from across the barracks in the morning light. “If you think finding a tentacle suction cupped dildo in my bag is enough to embarrass me, you chumps haven’t been paying attention to my stories from home.”
Vulcan joins the others in laughter as I toss the dildo at his face, my asshole clenching in fear just thinking of trying to shove something like that…No. A finger, yes. A prostate massager, perhaps. The silicone embodiment of The Kraken up my ass, absolutely not.
He flips it over and over in his hand, sitting on the edge of my bed. Opis and Orcus jump on the top bunk, kicking their feet at me like little kids instead of the fucking grown ass adults they are supposed to be. Cupid chuckles as I drop to my knee and dig under my bed, my fingers stretching to grab the plastic tote. I open the lid and immediately find what I’m looking for. With a nod to Cupid and Port, I wait crouched until they have the two asshats subdued, each one with an arm forcibly extended, then click the hot pink fluffy handcuffs to their wrists and jump back before they can swing their booted feet and kick me.
“Czar!” Opis jumps off the bed to come after me, catching Orcus off guard and they go down in a heap of hairy tattooed limbs and a lot of adult language.
“Boys, boys. You represent the United States Army, compose yourselves.” I tsk stepping over them and continuing to pack my shit. As much as I love my brothers-in-arms, I miss my crazy family in Squirrel Hill more. I haven’t been back nearly as often as I thought I would be over the last 7 years. I used my leave time to see the world, well, the parts where people weren’t actively trying to kill me or the rest of my unit. I’ve dipped a toe, at least, in just about every ocean, I’ve stood atop great mountains, I’ve tasted foods from far and wide, and I know at the ripe old age of 26, that the rest of the world is beautiful and humbling, but it isn’t home.
My service to my country is coming to a close, just as soon as—
“Room. Attention!” I look at Vulcan, noting the clench of his jaw. Fucking hell. I had hoped to escape without having to see Gundy, but apparently the universe decided to fuck me instead. Do I have time to grab the industrial size bottle of lube from under my bunk?
“Sergeant Freidman.”
Alabama Dry Rub it is.
I spin on my heels, my hand raising automatically in a salute, “1 st Lieutenant, Sir.”
The entire makeshift barrack is so silent I can hear the gas travel through Opis’ intestines. For three years, those of us in the Romans Platoon, who stayed behind as Jupiter and the others left, have suffered under the questionable leadership of 1 st Lieutenant Christian Gunderson. To prove him unfit would draw our own performance into question, and not a single one of us will allow him to tarnish our reputations. Dishonorable Discharge is a fate worse than death to many and not a risk we are willing to take, no matter how much this motherfucker pisses us off.
“I have a gift for…Castillo.” My eyebrows rise up my forehead, but I otherwise do not move. The disdain in which he speaks of Jupiter is laughable at this point. Jupiter, Mars and the others fostered a family within a platoon. They inspired faith, loyalty, and friendship. All Gundy has fostered is resentment and animosity.
God, I can’t wait to go home. Permanently. A few more months and I’ll be free.
Gundy’s eyes move to the floor in front of him and then back to me. With an internal sigh, I step forward until I am about a foot away from him. Arms behind my back, my stance rigid, I wait for him to continue with the theatrics.
He produces a bright blue double barreled…bicycle horn. He squeezes it once and the air is sucked from my lungs. Dealing with him for the last three years, listening to the barbs, blatant disrespect, the humiliation he has heaped on us in the name of jealousy…I inhale deeply once. Hold it for five seconds, then exhale slowly. My heart rate slows, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I extend my hand to accept his “gift”.
His laughter is grating and sad. No one joins him. After a few seconds he must realize that his joke missed the mark, because he stands straighter, glaring down his nose at me despite the few inches I have on him. “Enjoy your furlough, Freidman. We have much to discuss upon your return.” Gundy doesn’t wait for a response, just turns around and walks out of the barrack.
The room collectively inhales, and I turn to Vulcan for answers to questions I didn’t know I needed to ask. He raises his hands in the air to stop me. “I don’t know. I’ll find out while you’re gone.”
“What could we have to discuss?” I rasp out as Vulcan draws me over to my bunk again. Orcus and Opis are still handcuffed, wearing matching scowls directed at the door Gundy just left from. Cupid discreetly places the dildo back in my bag, but I’m so confused, I let it go. “I submitted my paperwork, I’m out of here in less than six months. The only thing he and I have left to discuss is how far up his ass I’m planting my boot on my way out!”
Vulcan places his hand on the back of my neck, his forehead against mine. “Brother, I’ll find out. Finish packing, transport will be here in 15 minutes. You gotta give us all hugs goodbye, a farewell BJ for Port, and pre-travel colon cleanse, time’s a-wastin’!”
I push him back, laughing, then shake off the last few minutes. He’s right, I’m going home. I can worry about this later. After I see my dad, eat my mom’s home cooking, and devour whatever goodies Aunt Rev has at the bakery.
2 weeks. No bunkmates, no gruel, no Gundy.
“PORT!” I yell, grabbing my phone after I zip up my bag.
“Yeah?”
“Ain’t got time to find your dick, let alone suck it, I’ve got the travel splatters.”
He starts to follow me with a big dumb grin on his face, “You don’t need your mouth to shit. Multitask, soldier!”