by M. C. Cerny
If he only knew.
“Today is a new day.” I squeezed his hand in mine, the meaning clear to both of us. He said nothing, but our eyes spoke, for all I knew Adam had ears in this room waiting for me to screw up.
“I promise.” I smiled big and I meant it. I would get us out of this, just not today.
“Well then I better see my baby sister off into capable hands, huh?” If by capable, he meant crazy, sure. Nodding was the only answer I gave, and we walked out of the room linked together into the next chapter of my prison sentence.
3
Adam
Elizabeth had a way of tempering my crazy and setting me off at the same time. It wasn’t her fault. My medication cocktail was a damn mess and I needed her sister-in-law to finish medical school so she could be useful for a change. Nothing better than employing an in-house doctor and one that would owe me for as long as I demanded.
As for my bride, I hadn’t intended to be so rough, but my temper was a heady thing. My control easily frayed being in her presence, anticipating my hold over her after waiting for so long. I felt like a stallion ready to stud, chomping at the bit. Even her wide-eyed look of shock turned me on because I was a sick fuck. The need was an itch that only got worse.
I had moments where my own skin felt tight and unbearable like today. My suit wasn’t a glove, but a strait jacket smothering me. I wasn’t up to entertaining the crowd in the church with our show, I wanted to slip into my waiting vehicle and escape the flash of photos blinding me, but it was impossible after orchestrating everything to perfection. There was an image to uphold and behind the scene deals to be made. I could break down later when I had the time and luxury. Holding it together was a finely honed skill.
I ran through all the deals I had ongoing and those on the back burner. Flying to the island was both a need and a chore. I owed Elizabeth a honeymoon, and what better place than an island she couldn’t escape from when the reality of this marriage set in. Unfortunately, running my empire came with a host of problems that needed constant attention.
My phone buzzed inside my jacket pocket and I pulled it out answering.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Huntley, this is Dr. Clerval.”
My gut clenched hearing my oncologist on the phone. I gripped the smart tech and tempered my mood with deep steady breaths. I hadn’t seen him in a year and on Elizabeth’s seventeenth birthday I celebrated alone in my house while she was hundreds of miles away. I’d been given the all clear and didn’t trust myself around her.
She was mine.
Mine!
I changed my plan devising a way to keep her. Revenge was still my goal collecting my chess pieces and manipulating the board.
“Perfect timing.” I kept my tone cordial, but inside, the storm raged like a tempest. Hugo, Andrew, and Katrina had nothing on the turmoil swirling inside me.
“I was wondering when you could come into the office. I know this isn’t optimal timing, but your latest scans are something we need to discuss.” His voice trailed off and I listened to him shuffling papers in the background.
I snorted.
Was a man’s wedding day ever optimal timing for bad news? There was a reason I didn’t have a best-man. He could have been fucking the Maid of Honor for all I cared which was why Elizabeth had no attendant either. She could have asked me for Fiona, I would have given her that, but my little bird chose to do this alone. She was supposed to be coming to me unhindered until her brother showed up.
“Tell me now.” I demanded through the currents of fiber optics and cellular data. I couldn’t will the news to be any different, but I would be damned if my plan B was going to go to shit because of a few rogue cells mutating in my body like a black mold.
“Mr. Huntley, I really think this would be better in person.” Dr. Clerval paused.
“I think if you value your medical license, and the lives of your loved ones, you’ll email me the results right now.” I hung up the phone and held it out like it needed to adjust its signal. Mere moments passed when it alerted me to a new message. I felt the wave of nausea overwhelm me as the fates cut my string shorter yet again. I opened the email and scanned the results along with the doctor’s hastily scratched reply, minus the diagnostics.
I was no longer in sustained remission.
The news jarred me enough that I staggered back painfully gripping the phone.
Elizabeth would get her reprieve after all.
I thought about how to get through the next several hours. My hand shook reaching into my pocket for the pill bottle containing my own reprieve. I popped the top for the small, white, bitter tasting pills that rattled my fate.
My cell phone buzzed again.
“What!” I snarled into the speaker uncaring who was on the receiving end of my ire.
Petre stepped inside the room looking at me, concern marred his brow. He tapped his phone and I looked at mine. He’d sent me a message. I waved him off and he resumed scanning the church. I’d deal with Elizabeth’s daddy issues later.
“Adamo. Congratulations.” The heavy accent filtered through the phone. If he thought a cute nickname would get him anywhere, he was a stupid motherfucker. The damn Italians. Mobsters in need of a favor. I scratch their back, they scratch mine. It only cost me a shipment of guns and a deal that would eventually backfire when the Boston Irish found out. They all had beef with the Cartel in addition to issues with the Russians who bled into a local MC. They all gave me a fucking headache with their sewing circle gossip.
“Vincenzo Santorini. What can I do for you today? I’m a little occupied.” I peeked into the church from the left of the alter. Hundreds of people filled the seats waiting for the ceremony to start.
“My boys are eager to celebrate your nuptials. Might get them in the mood to do their duty.” He chuckled, the sound hollow and deliberate. No one called a man on his wedding day for chit-chat. You were either celebrating with him or fucking one of the bridesmaids, all of whom I hand selected anyway.
“I see Amo, Rollo, and Caspian.” I nodded to Petre who was in the front row with Derrick. Both turned, slipping off their sunglasses. They’d shoot all three if I gave them the go ahead. Petre lived for shit like that.
“Bueno, Bueno my friend. This is a call of good will.” His voice elevated and I listened for any tell that would indicate a lie or otherwise. One could never be too sure in my line of work.
“Sure, it is.” I drawled.
“Word is that you’re supplying a local MC. They ride past my restaurant a lot these days, make a lot of noise.”
“So, offer them a dinner. What do you want Vincenzo?”
“I can’t touch the Russians, but they can.” He said, insinuating I could help this along.
“You’re asking me to start a turf war on my wedding day.” I sighed.
“Think about it. I know you have a shipment coming on the Verity into Port next week.”
I clenched my jaw. I don’t know how he found out about my ship. This asshole wanted to ring a deal out of me before I went on my honeymoon by threatening to interfere with my shipment. Cargo ships be damned. I’d rather lose it all in a storm then give the Italians easy pickings. Santorini was a pain in my ass, but he kept the streets clean in favor of his money laundering. I’d deal with him when I got back.
“How are things with the Cartel?” I knew Emmanuel Ramirez was cutting into his business. Not that I wanted to mule drugs, per se, but I wondered how an alliance with the Cartel would get Vincenzo to back off. It was a delicate balance.
“I have them over for dinner, as you say.”
“Good. We’ll meet when I get back. In the meantime, I’ll back the MC, but do not piss off Dimitri.”
“His wife makes shit pasta. Any man with a wife who can’t boil water is an idiot.”
Chuckling, I said, “Mine loves cannoli.” Elizabeth had a sweet tooth it took years to curb. I wasn’t about to have her waist good dental hygiene and her perfectly balanced figure
for the evils of processed and refined sugars.
Vincenzo seemed pleased and offered, “I have my wife make her some and you bring her to dinner after the honeymoon. We talk business. My boys are eager to get things rolling.”
I bet they were. Just seeing the wet behind the ear frat boys sitting in the pews with dates that looked more like hookers made me roll my eyes. Vincenzo would have a hard time controlling his own interests if he didn’t rein them in, but who was I to tell him how to run his business. Santorini seemed like the type to fuck his sons’ brides for sport anyway.
“Done.” I hung up slipping the phone inside my jacket. The work was never done.
“Mr. Huntley.” Father Morely stepped out and smiled.
“Father.” I nodded pretended as much genuflection as I could manage without needed an antacid.
“It’s time, son.” He patted my shoulder and I gritted my teeth holding back the urge to fling his arm off my person for touching me. The itch tingled from my shoulder down my back.
“Since we don’t have all day for my confessions, I suppose the ceremony will have to do.” I grunted focused on straightening my jacket.
Father Morely’s grim smile matched the narrow look in his eyes. “Indeed.” He said and the music cued for the next chapter in my life to begin.
4
Aaron
“Happy birthday bro, have a drink.” One of my guys clapped me on the back. I pulled up a stool sinking into the bar that smelled like home, last birthdays, and the best guys the marines could make.
Nectar was a shithole bar off base that catered to the military crew. I sat down with the guys in my Alpha Infiniti Squad. Beers slid down the bar and they forced me to toss back a drink in celebration cheering their asses off like high school cheerleaders about to nail the captain of the football team. I rolled my eyes and cracked my neck. Coming home was the best feeling in the world, but knowing I had to go back out there always loomed in the back of my mind with a heady mix of equal excitement and regret.
It had been a hell of a training week and I was in charge of several rookies, most of who had gone home for the week like pussies missing their mommas and girlfriends. Thank god we were all on leave right now. Six of us stayed back at the base trying to make the best of it visiting families and our girls if we had any. We were the best of the best, and a little break was well deserved for defending our country against the scumbags worldwide. For the most part, our work was typically under the radar. We sometimes lived in another world and the level of secrecy our missions demanded could be exhausting.
Finishing the first drink like a champ, I raised a hand to the bartender with my empty. He quickly brought me another bottled beer popping off the cap. I might not get respect from the left-wing nuts, but at least in this dive bar, some things remained sacred like love for the US military forces and a good beer. In the background, a recorded hockey game played and I relaxed taking in the brief normalcy.
“What the fuck is that smile for A-Dog?” My teammate, Eli, punched me in the arm playfully getting my attention. He snapped his winter fresh gum driving me AWOL with the pungent minty smell that reminded me of a field hospital while popping it next to my ear. Ignoring him, I enjoyed a long swill of cold beer. The bite of malt and barley sorely missed after months away from this place. This particular brew was a pale ale from a brewery in upstate New York called Easton’s Pub. The label was decorated with green pine trees and white mountains behind a stone castle claiming spring water and fresh air helped craft it. My short nail peeled under the label and condensation. Shit tasted good on tap. Someday if I ever had the time, I’d visit the hole in the wall place where it was made just for fun and hike in the mountains to see if the fresh air really did help craft it. Bucket lists were good to have.
“Nothing man. I’m just glad to be home.” We had a solid month before leave ended and I was hoping to make the best of it.
A handful of text messages wished me another year well from family and friends, but no family to visit on this leave. My adoptive parents were busy with my brothers in California playing house with a new grand-baby. My little sister, their own biological daughter was setting up her new house with her husband, not far from them in Montclair. I missed her wedding because I couldn’t get leave to come home for it. With their attention focused elsewhere, there was much left for me, the adopted one.
Truth be told, I kind of though my sister’s husband was an asshole anyway, but nobody gave two cents to my opinion on the matter. I got the sense he was a D-bag, and it was best I avoided that landmine.
My brothers, a software developer and a financial analyst had moved out to California making successful lives for themselves uninterested in keeping up regular contact during my deployments. We had a good relationship, but no love lost since I wasn’t their blood brother and I was strangely okay with that.
The Henderson’s were a dedicated missionary family who fostered me, adopted me, and raised me. Now the military owned me by choice. I was a made-man as far as I was concerned. If anything, I was the square peg in a round hole of kind people who didn’t understand war games.
Eli slapped my chest. “You going to get some birthday head?” He snickered loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of our team.
I pushed him back smirking. “No, asshole.”
I didn’t appreciate the way he talked about my girlfriend, but I was definitely looking forward to her sucking my cock if she was in the mood.
Eli’s knee was practically bouncing off his stool. “Dude, you going to pussy up and ask her?” He waved the bartender over for shots, and I knew I was out on those. Tequila tended to fuck me up and I had to drive.
“I love Claudia.” I slapped his chest back leaning in to share, “I’m gonna ask that girl to marry me when I’m good and ready. Pretty sure blow jobs are standard when you pony up a ring.” I never felt so full and happy at the same time. Our relationship was like lemon pie, tart and predictable with a sweet fluffy topping.
“Ahhhhh!” He taunted double-fisting his shots while pointing at me.
“Dude.” I pushed back knowing he’d go and tell the rest of the guys I was pussy whipped. That was fine by me because I was definitely getting a blow job later even if I had to coax her by putting out first. It was worth it, but really, it was Claudia who was worth it.
I kept drinking my beer thinking about Claudia’s pretty face, full tits, and ass I planned on pounding later tonight if she let me in her apartment. She was worth taming my baser needs. I let her innocent smile tie me up in knots. I’m sure she had a nice little birthday cake baked and yummy vanilla sex waiting for me when I got there.
Frankly, the normalcy of it was just fine. I had enough of giving orders and loosing good men since becoming Commander of my own team. A lot of them were still kids who thought the military was their way out just like I did. In this day, we couldn’t have been more wrong.
Claudia was the shy girl next door. Pretty blonde who sang in the choir and helped her mom bake cookies and collect socks for holiday care packages. Our parents met through church going on missions every summer between school breaks. I travelled to more exotic places back then helping my parents convert locals than I did tromping through mountains and sand converting them with guns. The Marines pretty much kept me in the Middle East, a far cry from Haiti or Ghana.
“Girl is crazy about you that’s for sure.” Eli kept pounding back beers between shots slurring his words.
“Hope so, she followed me down here.” I said between handfuls of cheap peanuts I crunched in the back of my mouth. Claudia gave up her dreams being with me. Life with me wasn’t easy and this was only the beginning of my career. I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon despite her pleas for me to be a regular civilian at a nine to five suit and tie job. I loved being a SEAL apart of my high-level team as much as I loved her. It often made it difficult to balance the two.
Eventually, I planned on making good on my promise to Claudia. I’d find t
hat normal boring ass civilian job. I’d retire as an old man with all my limbs intact, no matter how constricting a monkey suit would be, but for now, someone would always be unhappy in our equation. I’d continue to feel guilty every time I put my fatigues on with ease knowing she was here waiting for the day I hung it all up.
Just not guilty enough.
“Dude, all you bastards are getting married.” A bunch of faceless patrons, mostly frogs from another team cheered Eli’s statement as he slammed his drink down sloshing over the bar top.
I sipped my beer chuffing. “Right? Like who?”
“Eddie left two days ago for his sister’s wedding. Little shit plans on asking his girl to marry him next.”
“I thought she was his fiancé already?”
“Sure they say that, but he didn’t have a ring yet.”
“That dark haired girl he’s got the picture of? She looks twelve.” I recalled how the guys taunted him by stealing the photo from his wallet the first day I met him. They held it up over his head out of reach until he tackled them. Eddie beat the tar out of my field medic. A handful of others deployed that mission with black eyes. I’d never seen someone turn into an animal defending a girl’s honor. I didn’t understand his motivation.
“Nah, that’s the sister. His girl is a fire crotch.” Eli wiggled his hips on the stool and I felt an urge to kick it out from under him.
“Knock it off,” I said drinking my beer.
“Dude, come on.” He threw his hands up as if that explained everything. Eli wasn’t exactly respectful and the last thing I wanted was pictures of Eddie’s red headed girl in my head on my way to Claudia’s apartment. I appreciated a fine-looking woman, but I loved my girl. A mantra I repeated every time I came home and watched my guys make moon eyes over her.
“One of you pussy’s catch a bouquet or something?” My first-class petty officer, Jordan Laster bumped into us grumbling.
