Make You Mine

by Louise, Tia

  We step apart. I reach for the lard, and Gray turns to the other shelf, his back to me.

  “When Mrs. Harris was alive, we didn’t have any of this… flip flops in Sunday school. That can’t be sanitary around the food.” Ralph’s mom pushes into the supply closet. “Oh, here you are! I was looking for you, Andrea. What is that? Lard?”

  “I thought you might need it… for the cooking.”

  She puts a hand on her chest, and laughs in a pitying way. “Bless your heart, you’ve never cooked a day in your life, have you?”

  “I made pancakes once… and shrimp and grits.”

  “The food’s already cooked, honey. You just come on out here and enjoy it with your brother. Oh, and Grayson.”

  She leads the way out, and I roll my eyes at her behind her back. We start to go, but Gray catches my face before we leave the small closet. He pulls me against his chest in a hug so tight, it brings tears to my eyes.

  “I’ll write to you.” His voice is thick. He’s telling me goodbye.

  He kisses me long and hard returning all the love I told him I feel.

  It’s the final time we’re alone before they board the plane.

  It’s the moment I’ll live on, no matter what he thinks I’ll do in college.

  “Come back to me, Grayson,” I whisper, watching him fly away. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Chapter 4

  Gray

  The Desert

  Time is refracted here. It speeds up and slows down depending on the circumstance. When we’re on base, the monotony and the loneliness wear on me. As much as I try not to, I can’t help messaging Drew.

  Drew: Ruby is the worst roommate. She’s a total slob! I’m always picking up her socks and underwear off the floor. She eats pizza and leaves the box in the bathtub.

  Me: Don’t tell me about Ruby’s underwear.

  Drew: You’d rather hear about mine? I couldn’t decide between the red lace thong or the pink boy shorts. Want to help me?

  I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the letters. Sneaky girl. I walked right into that one. It makes me chuckle. Of course, I want to see Drew’s underwear—more like her cute little ass wrapped in lace—or nothing at all. I push that down and do the right thing.

  Me: What’s the dating situation like?

  Drew: Ruby dates any boy who asks for her number. I’ve told her that’s dangerous, especially when they start drinking.

  Me: You know what I mean.

  Drew: You really want to know?

  Me: I asked.

  The little dots float in the gray bar, and my stomach tightens. My mouth is dry, and I try to swallow. I don’t want to know she did what I said. I don’t want to know some other guy is touching her, kissing her…

  Drew: I’m focusing on my studies. Maybe I’ll graduate summa cum laude.

  A laugh bursts from my lips. God, I suck at being firm with her.

  Me: It’s not a competition, Drew Poo.

  Drew: If you ever call me that again

  Me: (crying-laughing emoji)

  Drew: I miss you.

  My stomach clenches.

  Me: I miss you, too, Drew-baby.

  Drew: Much better. I love it when you call me that.

  I love you.

  Me: Gotta run.

  Drew: Okay. Look after my idiot brother.

  Me: Always.

  Drew: Food for thought…

  A photo appears on my phone, and the blood rushes to my dick. I’m looking down into the V of Drew’s shirt. One side is pulled lower, giving me a clear shot of her pink lace bra and the top of her dark areola.

  Fuck me. I lean back, and just barely get my hand over my growing erection before a body dives into the bunk beside me.

  “Who won the Kentucky Derby?” Danny punches me hard on the bicep. “Charley Horse.”

  “Shit!” I hold my upper arm. “Fuck off, Danny.”

  “You’re getting slow, old man. What’s that you’re looking at? Porn?”

  Something even better… I press the button to put my phone to sleep fast before he tries to take it. “Where have you been?”

  He grins, putting his hands behind his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  The desert sun has bleached his hair out to pale blond, making him look younger than he is. His skin is golden and his hazel eyes glow green. The women in this country watch him like he’s some kind of god or a prince, something rare, and he eats it up like a glutton.

  I’m tanned as well, but my hair is dark. The only thing distinctive on me are my gray eyes, which appear wolfish in all the brown.

  Danny leans forward whispering, “So you know how the internet said the girls here prefer anal so they can still be virgins on their wedding night?”

  “No.” Why would I know this?

  He tosses a lecherous grin my way. “It’s true.”

  “Ah, shit.” I scrub my eyes with my fingers. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  “Took my first ass tonight. It was everything you imagine and hotter.”

  I won’t lie and say I’ve never thought about anal. It’s not something I’m planning to do here. “I hope you wrapped it.”

  “What do you think I am, an idiot?”

  My eyes narrow, and he laughs, falling back on the bunk. “The next few years might not be so bad after all.”

  “You’re a sick fucker. Don’t get HIV.”

  It’s how we pass the time when we’re not doing drills or keeping watch. I do my best to give Drew space to grow up—and fail. Danny sticks his dick in any hole that will open to him, which is a surprising number.

  All of us are just trying to stay alive.

  The days turn into weeks, the weeks months. Through it all, Drew is the bright light. She’s the thing that keeps me going. Our texts and her occasional, sexy pictures are the high points of my life right now.

  I’m pretty sure I’m addicted by how my pulse races when her name pops up on my phone.

  Drew: Sometimes I imagine you as Forrest Gump yelling YES, DRILL SEARGENT!!!!

  I snort a laugh when I read it.

  Me: Tell me what you really think of me.

  Drew: I really think you’re a stud in uniform. You’re like Tom Cruise facing off against Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men.

  Me: You can’t handle the truth.

  Drew: I knew you’d say that.

  Me: I’m so predictable.

  Drew: What’s your favorite military movie?

  Me: Apocalypse Now, duh.

  Drew: That’s really Heart of Darkness.

  Me: How’s school going? Picked a major yet?

  Drew: I decided to stay in Psychology. Still want to help people.

  Me: You already do.

  Drew: Help you to a boner?

  Me: Your brother almost saw that last one.

  Drew: I wish this is where your hand was…

  She sends a photograph of her palm sliding under the side of her short skirt. It gives me a glimpse of her red lace thong tracing over her slim hip. Damn, she’s so sexy. I jump up and head to the showers to take care of the boner in my pants.

  Like some old cliché, months turn into years, until three years have passed, and we’re facing our last major campaign. I’m starting to understand why some guys become career military. So much time has passed, being here has become my normal. I don’t know what it will be like to be back in civilization, back around those people, back with Drew. I want to touch her so bad, it hurts…

  As usual, her texts sweep my anxiety away.

  Drew: Why would anyone say The Beatles are better than The Rolling Stones?

  Me: Not a Beatles fan?

  Drew: I love them, but it’s like comparing Barbara Kingsolver to Neal Stephenson. They’re both great authors, but they’re completely different genres.

  Me: I’d compare Atwood to Stephenson.

  Drew: Right! Except it’s still sci-fi feminist fiction vs. traditional, male-dominated world building.
>
  Me: Sounds like you’re getting that summa cum laude.

  Drew: Working on it.

  Me: We’re heading out in the morning.

  Drew: Last time?

  Me: That’s what they tell us.

  Drew: How long?

  Me: Not sure.

  Drew: Where?

  Me: Classified.

  Drew: Please be safe. I worry so much about you.

  My chest squeezes the air from my lungs.

  Me: I will, Drew-baby.

  Drew: Take care of my idiot brother.

  Me: Always.

  * * *

  Somewhere in North Africa

  My back is to the wall of the narrow tower. Looking out past the courtyard, I see the trucks are loaded and waiting to take us out of here. Men holding guns line the perimeter, watching us. They wear white robes, vests, and olive green shemagh, or head scarves. Occasionally a woman in a black burqa scurries across the yard.

  After three weeks at this palace, we’re pulling out, and I couldn’t be more ready.

  They don’t trust us, and we don’t trust them.

  We spent the day yesterday sweeping the route for IEDs, and we’re ready to go. My CO radioed for me to come down and join the others.

  Still, I linger a moment longer, re-reading the words on the printed sheet of paper, looking at the small photograph one more time. In it, Drew is leaning forward, and her smile is so big, it makes me smile.

  Her wavy blonde hair falls over one shoulder, and her arms are wrapped around her waist. She’d been looking at me when I took it, and the energy coming from her eyes tightens my chest. I turn it over, and the words she wrote hit me even harder.

  The letter is worn from being opened and closed so many times. When we’re in country, it’s the only way I can ease my addiction to her messages. On these missions, we’re completely cut off from civilization. No phones, no email, nothing.

  These mementos keep her with me.

  At night I close my eyes, and I can feel your lips against mine. I feel the warmth of your hands on the sides of my face. I pretend I’m in your arms. They flex when you hold me, your chest is hard, and your heart beats so strong when I press my cheek against it…

  In these words, I’m with her, too. I feel her in my arms, soft and warm, smelling like flowers and the ocean and everything good.

  As many times as I said we should stop, we’ve maintained contact the entire time I’ve been here, and as much as I try to downplay it, I count the seconds until I’m with her again.

  She ignored my instruction to date other guys, and it fucking makes me happy as hell she did, despite what everyone thinks.

  “Report to the staging area in zero nine hundred,” Marten shouts into the small radio on my shoulder.

  The wind pushes the paper in my hand, and I scan her words one more time before I tuck the photo inside. I can see her face, the way her nose curls, her pretty blue eyes blinking up at me. Her voice is pure and true.

  “What the fuck are you doing? We’re supposed to be heading down.” Danny pushes into the small space, and I straighten, dropping the paper against my leg.

  “Just trying to cool off.” It’s a lie. There’s no escaping the heat here.

  Everything is brown-beige sand, hot, and dusty. The heat I don’t mind, but I never thought I’d miss trees so much in my life.

  “You hiding out? It’s time to go.” Danny looks over his shoulder, and I see a red smudge on his collar.

  “Is that blood?”

  “What?” He jerks to look down as I reach, and just as fast he pulls away, pushing my hand aside.

  “It’s lipstick.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Were you with Adara?”

  His throat moves and he glances down. “What’s that in your hand?”

  I pull back at his deflection. Somehow, Drew and I have managed to keep our relationship from her brother this whole time. Danny and I are friends, but I expect he’ll pull some over-protective, “my kid sister” bullshit.

  “Quit changing the subject. Are you fucking that girl?”

  “She’s twenty-two. She’s not a girl—”

  “She’s his youngest daughter.” My mind flies through all we’ve learned about this place. “She could be stoned for not being a virgin.”

  “She’s technically still a virgin, and trust me, she knows what she likes.” He leans back against the wall, giving me a smug grin. “When she comes with my dick in her ass, she makes a noise like—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I give him a shove, and the letter falls.

  He bends fast to scoop it up. “Now… what secrets are you hiding? I knew it’d been too long—”

  “Give it back.”

  “Oh, now I have to know.” He laughs, opening the sheet.

  Her photograph falls to the dirt floor and everything stops.

  We both lunge at the same time but Danny gets to it first. “This is Drew.” Frowning, his eyes meet mine. He speaks the words slowly, as understanding breaks across his face. “Why do you have a picture of my little sister?”

  “It’s old.” As if that somehow makes it better.

  He turns it over to read the back. “My first? What the fuck?”

  My stomach is tight. I knew this was long overdue, but I hadn’t intended to do it now, right before we pull out. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “We’re talking about it now. How long has this been going on?”

  “Your sister’s back home, Danny. Nothing’s going on.”

  He steps to me, pushing his arm against my chest. “When did she write this?”

  Hazel eyes scan my expression, searching, studying my response. I’ve never been a great liar, and he knows how many girlfriends I’ve had.

  “That last night at the lake house. We were talking downstairs.”

  “You said you never touched her.”

  “I never said that.”

  Anger flashes across his face. “You fucked my kid sister.”

  The words are a low growl. Danny has always been a hothead.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Mother fucker. She’s just a kid.” He pulls his fist back to punch me, but I dodge, grabbing him around the chest.

  “Calm down.” My voice is louder, matching his.

  “Let me go, asshole. I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “No.” I hold him firmly against my chest. I’m stronger than he is, but not by much. “Settle down. I’m not going to fight you.”

  “You’re three years older, and you fucked her. You ruined her and walked away just like my dad said you would.”

  “It was not like that. It was never like that.”

  “You worthless, good for nothing piece of shit. Drew is fucking royalty. She’s so far out of your league, you can’t even see her.”

  Like I said, I expected something like this, but it still pisses me off. Danny and I know each other better than anybody, and he knows I’ve never been a player. It’s fucking hypocrisy, considering what he does, up to and including this week—putting our entire unit in jeopardy to screw around with the daughter of our host.

  At the same time, I can’t argue with him. “I told her to find somebody better.”

  “It didn’t stop you from sleeping with her.” He makes a sudden move, jerking to the left, and he’s out of my grasp.

  Before I can duck, light blasts behind my left eye as his fist slams into my cheekbone. I actually see stars.

  “Fuck,” I groan, staggering back and holding my face.

  Pain radiates up through my skull, into my temple. He’s worse off, shaking his hand.

  “Fuck!” He yells louder.

  I hope he broke it. “If you’d calm your ass down and talk to me—”

  “Who else knows about this?”

  It hurts when I shake my head. “Ruby…”

  “Ruby.” His jaw clenches. “Sounds like her. My sister would never go for some lowlife otherwise.”

  My teeth grind. Big brot
her or not, I’ve had enough. “We were together way before Ruby knew anything.”

  “Goddammit. Is that why she’s not dating anybody?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I asked Leslie to keep an eye on her.”

  Leslie. I rest my cheek against the cool barrel of my gun. “Speaking of, does Leslie know you’re ass fucking every Arab chick who gives you the time of day?”

  He lunges at me again, but I dodge, catching him around the waist and throwing him to the floor.

  “Cut it out.” I stand over him breathing hard. “What’s your problem, anyway? We’ve been friends since we were kids. You know me.”

  “I won’t stand by and watch you drag her down to some mechanic’s shack, keeping her barefoot and pregnant. Drew was meant for better things. Finer things.”

  “I’ll never stop Drew from doing what she wants.” I step closer until our noses are practically touching. “But you listen up, if she wants me when we get back, I’m going to her. I don’t give a fuck what you think.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “If only I could be so lucky.”

  I’m pissed and I’m burning up with adrenaline, fighting, and the desert sun beating down. Still, even as I say the words, regret tickles at the back of my mind. I shove it away. I’m too angry to let him off the hook for what he said, calling me a lowlife. Him.

  Our commanding officer blasts over my radio demanding to know where we are, why we’re not at the trucks. Danny and I are breathing hard, staring at each other with fire in our eyes. I grab my gun, snatch Drew’s letter and photograph out of his hand and stuff them in my pocket.

  “We’re on our way,” I say into the clip on my shoulder before turning and charging down the narrow stone staircase.

  We’re with the convoy in less than five minutes. I grab a helmet and throw my rifle onto my back. Our CO hands me a set of keys. “You’re driving this one.”