Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“No, please,” I screamed as Tristan dragged me by both my arms into the other room. “Don’t do this!”
“You brought this on yourself,” he snarled, pulling my almost two-hundred-pound weight like it was nothing.
“Tristan, what are you doing?”
I tried to dig my heels in. It didn’t do any good.
I wasn’t getting to him. When he stopped pulling me, I quickly climbed to my feet and tried to make it to the door.
Pain radiated between my shoulders. I tried to catch myself with my hands and roll, letting my training take over, but I couldn’t stop my momentum and went down.
Luckily, I wasn’t knocked out. Tristan rolled me to face him, and I lashed out quickly with my leg, connecting with his shin.
The impact was so hard that it reverberated up my leg, causing me to wince.
The abandoned room he dragged me to was devoid of furniture, the floors were littered with trash, and animal shit was everywhere. A squatter’s blankets were piled in the corner. Piss and other putrid odors permeated the air.
While Tristan recovered, I frantically searched for what he had hit me with or anything to give me an advantage.
I scrambled for a shard of glass lying on the floor from the broken window above the squatter’s cache.
I grasped it, cutting through my palm. My feet shoulder-width apart, weight on my back foot, I was ready for whatever Tristan could bring.
I’d had the same training as he did. He knew I was good, which was why he took me by surprise. But he was family.
Family or not, the look in his eyes as I held tight to the shard of glass, confused and frightened me. I didn’t see love, but coldness. Hate. Tristan meant to kill me, but I was going down fighting.
He charged. The kick to his shin did nothing to slow him. I couldn’t take his full weight, so I braced myself, and when he was close enough, I spun like I was going to do a roundhouse kick but lashed out with the glass instead.
Tristan’s momentum carried him, and he put his hands out to stop himself from crashing into the wall.
“You don’t want to do this, Tristan,” I tried to reason when he faced me.
“You made a fool of me,” Tristan snapped.
Confusion lit my face. This wasn’t the same Tristan I had late-night laughs with or drinks at the bar. This wasn’t the man I trusted to have my back. That I trusted with my life.
I lowered the shard, for the moment, hoping he’d explain what he was talking about, instead, he rushed me again.
This time, I wasn’t ready. He covered me with his full weight, and we crashed onto the floor.
I tried to raise the shard, but Tristan caught my arm and squeezed until I dropped it to the floor.
With my legs pinned under his waist, I tried to buck him off and flip him over, but without the use of my hips and legs for leverage, it was no use. As a soldier and a woman, I’d never felt so helpless.
“Tristan, please,” I cried, “let me go.”
“You flaunted that relationship in my face,” he screamed in my face. “After everything we’ve been through. After I told you how I felt.”
I turned my head. The smell of alcohol mixed with vomit made me gag.
“What relationship?”
“Rex, Charlie, Terry.” He ticked off all the guys on our team.
Tristan and I went through training together. We’d become close friends, just like all of us in my unit, but I loved those guys like brothers. Tristan was my brother. I’d never treated him any differently than I treated anyone else.
He asked me out once, and I refused, calling him my brother. He seemed fine with my decision, but apparently, he harbored bad feelings. I locked eyes with Tristan as something sharp pierced my skin, and I screamed.
As usual, the hot poker was going through my side. The pain and my screams jerked me from my sleep, but I lay there looking up at the ceiling until my heart stopped racing and my breathing normalized.
Like clockwork, I glanced at the clock, and as usual, it was two in the morning.
We tried to work out the significance of the time when I was in therapy, but the therapist was just as stumped.
The possibility of me never having a peaceful night’s sleep ever again weighed on me.
So much so that I was running almost every night just to tire myself out.
“You can’t lay here today, girl,” I whispered. “It’s your retirement day.”
A day of celebration, although I didn’t feel like celebrating.
Despite the heaviness of my nightmares and no sleep, I pushed myself to a sitting position.
My usual routine of a run, then a shower would give me just enough time to get a reasonable amount of sleep.
I needed to head to the hotel where my parents stayed because I opted to have my ceremony in the hotel’s small ballroom instead of the base.
When I’d awakened, I had only an hour to make it there.
“Would be some shit if I was late for my own ceremony,” I mumbled.
A wave of melancholy swept over me as I laid out my uniform on the bed and took in my bedroom for the final time. This was it. I wouldn’t sleep in the bed again, wouldn’t rummage through this closet, or even look into this mirror after today.
“Let’s go, Tisha,” I mumbled, motivating myself to get ready. “You can’t put old wine in new wineskins.”
Finally, in full uniform with my hair pinned under my hat, I was out the door forever with my trusty backpack slung on my shoulder.
I stepped outside. I was amazed at how different today was.
The rain that fell in torrents yesterday was regulated to a few drops on the leaves of trees and petals of the flowers. The sun was bright and in full force.
“Hopefully, that’s a prominent sign,” I said as I made my way to my car, then backed out of my driveway for the last time.
When I made it to the hotel and stepped into the lobby, I was taken aback by the luxuriousness of the place.
The lobby’s chandeliers, the gold velvet lounge chairs, and the artwork looked like they cost more than my yearly naval salary.
Gold and red oriental rugs of the same colors were laid out on black marble floors with gold swirled within them.
I skirted around the biggest of all the rugs.
It seemed too expensive to walk on. I called my parents on the drive there to let them know I would be arriving soon.
Over the years, even though we didn’t see each other often, the relationship with my parents had grown strong.
I felt as if, for the first time, I understood their concern for me, and I appreciated the efforts they went through for me.
“Tisha,” someone yelled behind me.
I turned and couldn’t speak. I was rooted in place. I hadn’t heard that voice since I was fifteen, and I couldn’t believe she was here now. They both were.
“Grandma,” I said, my voice finally working.
She slowly made her way to me with confidence and with my grandfather trailing her. When we met in the middle, I could only hug them both. I refused to let the tears welling in my eyes fall. It wasn’t time for tears yet. I’d save them for when my Watch was over.
“Hey, little girl,” my grandpa greeted. He’d always called me that no matter how old I was.
I let them go, a grin a mile wide on my face. My gaze moved over to my parents; nods in acknowledgment came from both.
“Thank you,” I stated. “It was the best surprise.”
“You’re welcome, honey; now let’s go,” my father ordered. “You don’t want to be late.”
Some of my fellow officers gathered on the outside of our family circle, waiting to congratulate me, but not wanting to interrupt.
We all moved to the ballroom together, and I was speechless.
Every table was adorned with my favorite color, purple, and my favorite flower, purple irises.
Each sat in a crystal vase with greenery to make a full bouquet.
Toward the front of the room, chairs and a podium were set up facing the tables. My seat was designated in the middle by a purple ribbon flanked by two chairs on each side. I stood at the door, taking in deep breaths as my parents walked by and took their places at a table at the front.
“You look nervous.” A voice I’d known for half my life came from my right.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “Just ready to get the party started.”
I hugged Jessica Raymond, now retired from the Navy, to my chest. It’d been years since I’d seen her at her retirement ceremony, although we spoke on the phone regularly.
“Could’ve fooled me.” She chuckled.
“You know I could never do that.” I smiled, releasing her.
There wasn’t time to catch up because the bells started ringing. Jessica was the first person to march down the aisle to the front, as she would be the one to introduce me, followed by six more of my fellow officers and friends.
A bell tolled, and the boatswain whistled as each one moved proudly down the aisle.
It was hard for me to fight back the tears when the bell tolled, informing me it was my turn to take that walk.
Rubbing my hands down my skirt to smooth it, I pulled on the bottom of my jacket.
I let go of a nervous breath and took my first step and saluted.
How I made it down the aisle without falling, I don’t know.
The tears were so thick in my lashes, blurring everything around me.
My tears finally made the trek down my face when I sat down.
“Retired Petty Officer Jessica Raymond,” the master of ceremonies announced, and the tears just kept flowing.
As I suspected, she talked about what a hard-ass I was. Jessica had the crowd laughing and agreeing with what she said. Once she finished, the next part of the ceremony was my favorite. The passing of Old Glory.
I’d been to a few retirement ceremonies, including Jessica’s. Emotions swelled within me when I witnessed it for the first time. And this time, it was no different. My fellow officers took their places as the commanding officer’s voice swept through the room.