Chapter 6 The Party
THE PARTY
ZEKE
Every single room in this house had a speaker. The back porch had three. Even the fire pit in the back of the yard had a speaker. Bass pounded so hard in my ears that it rattled my teeth, and I quickly developed a migraine from how hard I clenched my jaw shut.
There were people everywhere. Without anyone in uniform, it was hard to tell who lived in town versus who lived on post, but some of the men could be distinguished by their military haircut. I had gotten one myself just that afternoon once I bought an outfit to wear.
I checked my watch again for the time, resolving myself to spend one hour there.
One hour had to be enough. Any more than that and I would probably wind up taking a sledgehammer to those stupid speakers.
It kind of defeated the purpose of watching over the soldiers if I became the reckless one whose actions created a safety brief on Tuesday morning.
Leggett wanted me to find out about any drugs that might be working their way on post, but he hadn’t said anything about watching out for the people using them at the party.
The acidic smell of bad weed made my nose crinkle, and I noticed more than one person throw back a pill with a tequila chaser.
Quite frankly, anyone’s drug usage was none of my business.
As far as I was concerned, they knew the risks, especially soldiers.
You play stupid games and you win stupid prizes.
I wandered from room to room, trying to find somewhere noncommittal to sit or stand where I wouldn’t be noticed but could also keep my eyes and ears open.
Each time I thought I found a spot, I caught the eye of a flirtatious woman or dodged a couple vying for the spot at the same time.
I settled for circling the layout. A reasonable person would have noticed, but everyone I saw looked to be about three sheets to the wind.
After three quarters of an hour with nothing but discomfort, sweat, and a pounding headache, I grabbed a soda from the kitchen and headed outside.
A detached garage sat at the end of the gravel driveway, more than thirty feet away from the house.
I noticed a small bench along the side not facing the yard.
It seemed quieter there without a subwoofer to thrum the bass and I sat down to wait out my last fifteen minutes.
This entire endeavor was a waste of time and money.
I avoided spending money at all costs, so dropping anything on a pair of jeans and a button up shirt I’d never wear again felt stupid.
A new car pulled into the drive, the headlights briefly illuminating me with bright white light.
Instincts kicked in and I sat up straighter, immediately on high alert at someone new.
Two women climbed out of a dark sedan. One had on a simple red shirt and jean shorts while the other had on some kind of shimmery dress that barely reached mid-thigh.
Light from the firepit in the backyard danced along the girl’s sparkly high heels as they rounded the house to use the back deck to enter the party.
There was something about the shiny girl’s appearance that drew my attention.
She reminded me of a peacock, strutting about with beautiful feathers wide open.
For some reason, the girl called to me like a siren to a sailor, and I stood up to watch as both women greeted people on the back deck.
They must be locals; the girl in the red shirt wouldn’t have passed military fitness standards and the shiny girl would know better than to wear such dangerous footwear on the soft ground outside.
For a brief moment, Shiny Girl looked over in my direction, and I would’ve sworn her eyes caught mine.
But her gaze didn’t linger. She surveyed her surroundings with the tiniest trace of a smile that I could only just make out in the weak porch light.
The song changed and Shiny Girl hopped up and down like a bunny, clapping her hands and whooping with delight.
A real smile broke through, and she grabbed her companion’s hand to lead her inside the house.
Something beckoned me to follow. I was drawn to this girl in a way I had never felt before. I needed to at least see her up close. Maybe then my visceral reaction would go away and I could return to my room.
Back inside, I didn’t see them right away.
They weren’t in the kitchen or the dining room.
I came around the corner and noticed the girl in the red shirt standing near the front door, deep in conversation with someone.
Shiny Girl was nowhere to be seen. I followed the hallway through a laundry room that opened up into what had likely once been an attached garage, but instead had been converted into a rec room.
There was an air hockey table and an old Galaga arcade game along with a bunch of neon beer signs hanging along the walls.
A large tv sat on cement cinderblocks in front of a rather moth-eaten couch.
I tried not to crinkle my nose at the smell of stale beer and body odor.
And there was my Shiny Girl in the middle of the room.
A cluster of guys stood in a semi-circle around her, and judging from the tension I could see in her spine, she wasn’t happy about it.
A couple of the men, the ones centered directly in front of her, sneered at her in a way that made my hackles rise.
I made my way over, not bothering to excuse myself when I pushed past people, and right as I was ready to tap her on the shoulder, Shiny Girl turned on her heel and walked into me.
There wasn’t time to react. I instinctually wrapped my arms around her waist to steady her, and the sweetest pair of doe eyes looked up at me.
There was fear in them, a quiver to her bottom lip that she was trying to hide.
An animalistic rage burned through me. Nobody ever had the right to make this girl scared. Anyone who did could answer to me and make their peace with their god.
What I found equally as startling were the way her arms wound around my neck. “Please just go with it,” the girl murmured in a breathy plea before drawing my mouth to hers.
A bomb detonated when her lips touched mine.
I no longer cared about her name, my name, or anyone else in the world.
New purpose grounded me in that moment. From there on out, my only singular goal in life was to make the woman in my arms happy.
I would protect her, defend her, and honor her with every fiber of my being.
And I felt ravenous to continue the kiss. My body wanted to possess her.
Intimately.
Spiritually.
Permanently.
I didn’t even realize I could experience those kinds of feelings. The very shock of it sent me stumbling backward, pulling away from her just as quickly as she had kissed me.
“See, boys?” Shiny Girl turned back to the men watching us, several of them now with angry scowls. “I’m taken.”
One of the guys started to step forward, his ire more pronounced in the way his fists clenched at his sides. The animal in me roared again and I found myself stepping up to wrap a possessive arm around the girl’s waist, holding her tightly against my side.
“Yo, man, that’s Sergeant Hayes!” Another guy, obviously a soldier, though I didn’t recognize him, slapped his hand onto the angry man’s chest. It brought the guy up short.
Shiny Girl didn’t waste any time, turning towards the door, lacing her fingers through mine to have me follow. And I didn’t mind. I would follow her anywhere she asked.
“I won’t forget about this, Mags!” the one guy called. “Once a whore, always a whore.”
Whore? Had I just kissed a sex worker? Not that there was anything wrong with that kind of profession. But did they hand out kisses like free samples, or was I expected to pay her for that?
The girl didn’t stop until we were back outside and sitting on the bench where I first saw her. By that time she was panting, likely from an adrenaline crash, and I squatted down in front of where she sat.
“I don’t have a paper bag or anything, so you’ll need to lean your head down between your legs and take a few deep breaths,” I advised her. I could barely make out her face in the darkness.
“I’m so sorry I kissed you!” she whimpered. The sound made some part of me feel guilty, though I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong.
Even though she couldn’t see me, I shrugged. “It’s okay. Glad I could help.”
A weak, watery laugh escaped. “Yeah, you definitely helped. Although you might have a target on your back now.” Her accent sounded distinctly southern, with a lilt to it that reminded me of music.
“I’ve had targets on my back before.”
The girl took a couple shaky breaths before saying, “I’m Maggie Eaton, by the way.”
I smiled. I liked the name Maggie.
“My name is Ezekiel Hayes. But you can call me Zeke.” No one ever called me anything other than “sir”, “sergeant”, or “Hayes”.
I liked that Maggie might be the first and only one to call me by a nickname.
It made her special. And if that kiss had been any indication, there was definitely something very special about Maggie.
“Well, Zeke, I need to go inside and find my friend. Will you go with me? In case I run into any of them again?”
One of her hands slid through the darkness to find mine. And the feel of her skin didn’t repel me like it usually did. I liked it, which was yet another first for me.
I gripped her hand tightly and pulled her upright with me as I stood. “Count me in,” I assured her.