Chapter 30
MIKEY
Ilie on a table top, letting smoke from the cigarette swirl around my head. My mind was consumed by thoughts of Scottie, and I was in no mood to rid myself of the absolute heaven I was reveling in. Splaying my arms out to the side, I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and smiled against the burn of nicotine slipping down my throat.
Scottie’s honey voice slipped through my bliss, and I lazily opened my eyes. “You know, now that I know…things, why the hell would you smoke cigarettes?” Flopping my head sideways, she sauntered up to me and trailed her fingertips over the scars that laced my torso beneath my shirt.
“I don’t often, you know that. But it’s a nasty habit and hard to kick, especially since it’s one I’ve had since my dad, you know, kicked the bucket,” I replied, rolling the cigarette to the side of my mouth.
“Oh, right. Your bad boy phase,” she teased and slid onto the bench.
“Are you saying I’m out of it now?” I giddily asked, and she rolled her eyes.
“So, if you’re not too busy with all of your ‘work,’ and since Dom hasn’t rounded us up yet, want to spar for a minute?” She added air quotes around the word work.
“Never too busy for you, Scotch,” I replied and looked back at the bright, absolutely clear blue sky.
“Says the shithead who ignored me for three days because of it.”
“Well, you did also tell me to ‘fuck off.’”
“I didn’t mean it.”
I chuckled and drew another puff of smoke into my lungs. Slowly exhaling through my nose, the cloud danced around my face, numbing despair that, despite all of the blissful distractions, still managed to wedge itself into my head.
My fingers slid to the dog tags that Jacob had managed to pass me before dying. I hadn’t had the heart to share them with anyone else yet.
“Thinking about him, aren’t you?” Scottie quietly asked.
I nodded once but said nothing.
“I’m really sorry about all of that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” I wished she’d believe me, but I knew no matter how often I voiced it, she’d carry that guilt for a long time. “And you? How are you doing with everything that…you know…happened?”
She exhaled loudly. “I’m okay. The nightmares suck, though; mostly because I wake up and swear I taste his dick. And trust me, he hadn’t cleaned it in a while. It was all slimy and tasted kinda like spoiled milk.”
“I did not need that extra description, Scotch,” I said, gagging at the thought.
“Yes, you did. Since I have to suffer, then you do too.”
I was surprised with how quickly she was resorting to joking about being assaulted, but knowing her, I assumed this was one of her depraved ways of trying to process that shit. Despite how insensitive it might come across, Scottie was trying to find a way to talk about it, and I was determined to ride whatever wave that was if that was the help she needed.
Inhaling deeply on the cigarette, I blew out a ring of smoke. But I wasn’t sure how to do that. The smoke laced up into the air, rising higher and widening as it stretched closer to the blue sky and then dissipated. I was so young when my shit went down, and I wasn’t a woman as she was.
“Say it,” Scottie said before I managed to open my mouth with a response.
“Say what?” I asked.
“Whatever dirty joke I just know is rolling through your head.”
Glancing at her, I scoffed. “Believe it or not, this is one of those few times that I don’t have a sex joke at the ready.”
She sharply inhaled, her chest expanded and she swallowed stiffly. “I could use one right now…” Her voice softened and she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“I don’t want to say anything inappropriate considering what happened.”
“Please, I need the distraction,” she whispered, her plea rising in her widened eyes.
Puffing once more on the cigarette, I looked up at the sky. She was asking. With that promise to help her however she needed curling fresh in my mind, I nodded to myself. “If you ever want a refresher on what clean dick tastes like, just let me know. I have one available right here,” I cautiously offered.
“You sly, arrogant, shithead.” She chuckled softly. “I don’t need a refresher, though; it’s hard to forget the taste of clean dick when it tastes like an avocado.”
“Like a what?” I drew in on my cigarette. She seemed calm…
“An avocado. You know, the weird green mushy vegetable that doesn’t really have a flavor but also does?”
I exhaled a puff of smoke. “You think clean dick tastes like a fucking avocado? Of all the things to pick to describe a clean dick, you’re sticking with an avocado.”
“You know I’m right!”
“No, I don’t think that’s something that I know. An avocado. They have that mushy texture, so—”
“Not the texture dumbass.”
“Okay, but still. Putting aside the texture, clean dick tastes like—”
“SKIN!” a third voice shouted, interrupting what I’d thought to be a private conversation.
I looked backwards toward the person who had shouted—someone I knew. Someone we both knew. An upside down Bernie approached us with something clutched in his hands. Sitting up on the table, I slid down to the bench opposite Scottie as Bernie made it to our unintentionally secluded corner.
“Just skin, dammit! It tastes like just fucking skin!” he emphasized.
Scottie’s mouth fell open as my eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “How the fuck do you know what clean dick tastes like?” I asked, trying to decide if I should laugh or remain shocked.
“Better question: Why the hell are you talking about what clean dick tastes like?” Bernie cocked a brow.
“Because of—” I shook my head. “No. We are not grazing past my fucking question.”
“And we are not grazing past the fact that you compared clean dick to a fucking avocado,” he snapped in response.
“I didn’t, Scottie did.” I quickly pointed at my still speechless companion.
“Ex-ex-excuse me?” she stuttered. “I have a perfectly logical reason to know what clean dick tastes like.”
“And it’s not a fucking avocado.” Bernie slid onto the bench next to Scottie. “Anyway.” He paused and glared at both of us, shutting that conversation down. “Now that we’ve all agreed it tastes like just skin, I got mail!” he exclaimed with a grin.
Sighing, I shook my head as Scottie remained shocked. Then his final three words settled into my mind and all the lighthearted banter slipped away.
“Ah, fuck this,” I grumbled. Of course Rachel was going to show up, ruining the aftermath of the most amazing moment I’d shared with Scottie in that shower. “Keep it. I haven’t read the last three sent from her.”
“It’s not from Rachel,” Bernie said.
I furrowed my brows, glancing at Scottie. She finally snapped out of her stupor and shrugged her shoulders, as confused as me. “Well, who the hell would be writing me if it’s not Rachel? It’s not like I’ve got anyone else,” I asked.
“Dude, you’ve got others, dumbass. Like me and Scottie here.” Bernie tossed a thumb in Scottie’s direction and then slid the envelope across the table. “But it’s from Griffin.”
“Griffin?” I grabbed it from Bernie and flipped it over. Quickly sliding my gaze across the return address, I nodded. “Well, I’ll be damned, it is from Griffin.”
“Well, open it. I want to know what the fuck it says!” Bernie drummed his fingers across the table top.
I looked up at him and pulled my lips into a thin line. “Does this envelope say to Bernie or to Mikey?”
“Oh come on,” he pleaded. “You haven’t told Scottie to leave!”
“Fine,” I grumbled and slid my finger beneath the sealed envelope, tearing it open. Unfolding the paper, I quickly skimmed the letter.
“What’s it say?” Bernie asked, practically bouncing out of his seat.
I shook my head and began reading. “‘Mikey. I hope shit’s not too bad out there, ’cause I’m delivering bad news. Jane and I went over to check on your house the other day and someone broke in. Ransacked the place. You and I can both guess who it was, but since we don’t have any proof, there’s not much we can do. By the time this gets to you, I’ll have security cameras installed to hopefully catch her if she tries it again. Anyway, you might want to think about renting out the house or something while you’re gone. Wish I could keep a better eye on it for you. Griffin.’”
Bernie leaned back and shook his head. “Well… Damn.”
“So, I don’t write her back and she goes and messes with my shit? Was she always this crazy?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Probably, but you weren’t around much.”
“I bet she’s also acting out because you caught her, so you messed up her perfect little world,” Scottie added.
“Fuck. Like hell, I’d just like for her to leave me alone,” I grumbled. Scratching at my neck, I stared at the scribbled words on the letter. “I mean, at least she didn’t write to me again.”
“No, she just decided to go break into your house,” Bernie replied and then stood up. “Anyway, that was less exciting than I thought it would be.”
“Go bug someone else, then,” I taunted, waving him away.
He chuckled and looked at me, his expression suddenly falling. “What the hell are we gonna do?”
Puffing on my cigarette again, I plunked my elbows onto the table. “No fucking clue.” There it was. All excitement sucked out by a single sentence.
Bernie glanced at Scottie and gave her a tight smile, her eyes glassy and staring at nothing, and then he simply walked away. Leaving us alone.
Alone.
Despite being surrounded by a base full of people, despite the fact that the woman I was absolutely enslaved by sat near me, I’d never felt so alone.
“What did Griffin mean when he said he wished he could keep a better eye on your house? And how the hell do you have an actual house?” Scottie blurted out, focus returning to her eyes.
“He’s got his own house and an entire family to worry about. And I didn’t exactly ride on this side of legal growing up, remember?” I replied.
She narrowed her gaze. “You’re saying you made money illegally and then didn’t give it back when you went straight?”
“And practically confess to all the shit I did? No, thank you.”
“So, you bought a house instead.”
“Technically, I sold the first two I bought, so this is my third house,” I justified.
She blinked rapidly at me. “That doesn’t change the fact you own a house from illegal shit.”
“Well, you know what, after all the hell I got put through as a kid, I think a house is exactly what I’m owed.”
“But us hard working folk who don’t do anything illegal aren’t owed a house?” A smile twitched at the edge of her lips.
“You’re just jealous I have a house that’s fully paid off and everything,” I replied. “You’re welcome to move in if that’ll make you feel better about the fact I used my illegal money to buy me a house.”
She shook her head and quickly placed a hand over her mouth. But there was no hiding the smile that reached her eyes too. “As flattering as the offer is, you know that doesn’t work.”
“How does that not work?”
“I’m deployed when you are, if I get to permanently stay as your team’s sniper, so, how would it look on all our forms to have the same exact address?”
“True,” I muttered, and as loudly as a crack of thunder it hit me. “Scottie. Who do you put down on all your forms? You know, the shit we have to fill out just in case we are killed or go missing or any of that stuff?”
Her brows stitched together and then every feature on her face softened. A mix between embarrassment, shame, and hope caressed her expression. “My brother, actually. There’s a part of me I guess that still clings to the idea that maybe we haven’t drifted apart as far as we have.”
“Have you ever tried to reach out to him?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No.” Then she quickly glared at me. “And don’t say anything. I know I should probably put some effort in too. Maybe he thinks it would be inappropriate to reach out first or whatever, but yeah. So just hush.”
I gave her a soft smile, though I knew she noticed it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I need to refill out the forms.”
She tipped her head. “Why?”
“They’re still made out with Rachel’s name.”
“Oh, yeah, you should probably do that,” she lightheartedly said.
“Yep,” I muttered and looked down at the letter resting between my elbows. “But I don’t have anyone to put down,” I quietly added, admitting to something I’d been avoiding for months.
“Well, who’d you have down before Rachel?” Scottie asked, as if what we were discussing didn’t give off any sort of red flags.
I raised my brows. “My grandma, but that was simply because I was desperate.”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t put her down again.” Scottie offered me a gentle smile, and my heart fluttered.
My skin ran warm and there was no stopping the words that vomited from my mouth. “How would you feel if I put your name down?”
Her smile faltered, and then she quickly plastered on an overly wide grin to cover up the fact that I’d just crossed a line. “Oh, Mikey. That wouldn’t work.” She giggled.
I clamped my teeth together and looked away, embarrassed. “Why not?”
Stop, idiot. You know why.
“Well, I mean, if you get killed, I most likely got killed at the same time, so then what would happen?” she replied, skirting around the real reason that we both knew I shouldn’t. That I couldn’t put her down.
“True,” I muttered and closed my eyes. “Sorry for asking.” Knotting my jaw, I shook my head and mentally punched myself. I was such a damned fool and stuck my foot in my mouth. More than once now.
She giggled again. “Honestly, though, why would you even suggest that?”
Every ounce of bliss rushed from my veins as I chanced a glance her way. Confused. “What do you mean?” I asked, studying her face. She normally wore her emotions on her sleeve, but now all I saw was a concoction of indecipherable expressions.
“What happened…” She paused and glanced around us. “Just because we fucked once doesn’t mean anything has changed.”
“I mean, not to everyone else, right, but to us?” I questioned, my stomach sinking to the sandy floor.
“Mikey, stop, please,” she muttered, unable to look me directly in the eyes.
“I just thought…” I stopped talking, watching as her gaze darted around, not stopping at one thing.
“You don’t actually have feelings for me, do you?” I blurted out.
“Stop. Just stop. If someone finds out…” She finally looked directly at me, mist swelling in her stare. “This is my life, my career that gets put at risk. You knew that from the beginning, too.”
I snatched the letter from the table and lowered my hands to my lap, crumpling it tightly in my fist. “I know.”
“You don’t get to do that!” she cried out, her eyes misting over.
“I’m not doing anything,” I replied. Masking my anger and pain was something I was a professional at, and that numb expression slipped across my face, but inside… Inside I was boiling with indescribable and almost unbearable agonizing anger.
“Exactly,” she quietly said, her voice trembling. “You’re doing nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
I looked up at her, choking down the excruciating chasm of hollow bitterness. “I shouldn’t have suggested it. I shouldn’t have said shit, and I’m truly sorry.”
“Mikey, stop,” she whispered, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Stop what? I’m trying to apologize.” I hated where this was going. I could smell it from a mile away.
“You knew we would never work.” She drew in a shaky breath, and I gave her a tight smile.
“I know, Scotch,” I whispered, realizing that it wasn’t anger coursing through my veins but reality. The reality of our short-lived moment of shared passion.
“So, we’re clear on things, right?” she quietly muttered.
I looked up at her as she quickly wiped away the stains on her cheeks. Nothing between us had even started and it was already over, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. As my soul shattered, my heart swallowed back into the pit of hardened stone, nothing before had ever pained me so much.
“Crystal,” I replied and dragged my legs over the bench, standing up. I refused to be the reason that she lived with regrets. I wouldn’t be the reason that she didn’t get everything she’d worked for—even if that meant keeping my feelings for her to myself. Even if that meant living on the sidelines and alone. At least that was something I was good at.
Because she deserved the world.
And that apparently didn’t include me.
“Mikey!” Scottie cried out. I closed my eyes, reaching for Jacob’s dog tags in my pocket.
And then I walked away. Nothing I wanted to say would rectify the situation. She was right. I’d known from the beginning that we were destined to fail. I just hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly.
I hadn’t expected it to feel this strange, even more painful than walking in on Rachel cheating. Everything shifted, became unfamiliar, even the feel of the dog tags beneath my fingers felt odd. Unusual.
Everything just was.
Wait.
I rounded a corner and stopped walking.
The dog tags really did feel strange. Pulling them out of my pocket, I put aside the heartache and studied the same metal that hung around my neck.
“No. Fucking. Way,” I gasped, my mouth falling open. They were not the same as the tags I wore. The two dog tags each held seven numbers. That was it.
Fourteen numbers total. Seven numbers split up, and I knew exactly what I was looking at. I knew it had been strange he’d had his tags with him. Because he hadn’t actually had them with him.
“Jacob, you son of a bitch.” I smiled and rushed off to find Dom.