Last Day of My Life

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “We’re married?” She whispered with tears in her brown eyes.

  ***

  Seven years prior

  I’d been living in a state of happiness since I was married. Not even the roadside bomb that was found during the sweep of the South quarter put a dent in it.

  “Where you goin’, Stoker?” Justin said from beside me.

  I turned and gave him a grin. He knew exactly where I was going. To the tent that the computers were set up in. It being the ass crack of dawn meant that the computers would be free. Not many got up earlier than they had to; I was an exception to the rule though. If I wanted to talk to Winter, that was the time to do it and have some time without being rushed.

  I sat down at the computer that was furthest away from the tent flap and turned my chair and the monitor of the computer as added security. I didn’t want anyone to see what was mine. In addition, it gave her a little security if she decided to show me anything more than her pretty face.

  Skype was my poison of choice. There weren’t many options when it came to this, and unless I wanted to just email, which sucked when you couldn’t see your loved one’s face, that was my only option.

  When I got online, I saw that she wasn’t there. We’d set up a recurring Skype appointment once a week. It wasn’t like her to miss, so I sat there and waited. When the sun finally made its appearance in the sky, I realized that it’d been over an hour, and still no Winter.

  My gut started to churn, but I held my emotions in check. I’d email her, and then Adam, just in case she was sick and needed someone to check on her. Seeing that I had over five emails from Adam, I quickly sent him one, and then Winter. Just as I was about to open up Adam’s first email, the siren wailed alerting us to enemy forces being spotted.

  Emails forgotten, I hauled ass back to my bunk and got dressed. The faded beige shirt I slipped on felt gritty against my skin. Smelling myself, I grimaced. Sweating like a bitch in heat wasn’t all that awesome. Especially in the lovely deserts of Afghanistan. Not being able to wash my freaking clothes was even worse.

  Twelve grueling hours later, I made my way back to the computer. Today didn’t reward much time to try and check in with the computer. The Taliban didn’t really care if you were worried about your wife.

  Just as I was about to enter the tent, I heard my name called.

  “Stoker! My office.” My CO, Layne Cooper, yelled.

  “Fuck me.” I muttered under my breath.

  Just what I needed. To hear about breaking the rules today. It wasn’t my fucking fault that those pesky little bastards tried to shoot a hole through my forehead. Yet, I was supposed to ask if I could shoot them beforehand? I think not.

  Clenching my hands into fists, I opened Layne’s door and closed it quietly behind me. “Sir.”

  “Have a seat.” He said.

  Something in his voice put me on alert. Something bad. Something that had more to do than what happened during patrol today.

  I sat without comment and waited. Ideas started pouring through my head. Was it my dad? My brother? My dad was getting along in age, and having to work the bar by himself probably wasn’t the easiest thing to do. My brother, on the other hand, was a big failure in life.

  He better not have done anymore drugs. The last time I’d caught him doing them I’d beat the holy hell out of him. Then again, he was only sixteen at the time, and it was easier to do than it would be now.

  “Jack,” Layne said tightly. “I was contacted by someone today regarding your wife. The police officer I spoke with informed me that they couldn’t find your wife. There were signs of struggle; blood was found at the scene. This happened over a week ago. I’m sorry to tell you this but, today, they found her body.”

  That day was the worst day of my life. The absolute worst. No words could explain the pain. The horror. The absolute helplessness.

  It was over two weeks before I was able to make it home. Stepping off the plane, I saw Adam, Tai, and my father waiting for me. They all wore expressions of despair. None of them were as bad as mine though.

  I was engulfed in hugs, and I broke. Utterly broke. My wife. The woman I loved with all my heart was gone. What the hell would I do now? One thing I was sure of, though, was that I would never love another. She deserved that from me. I would be true to our pledge of forever. No matter what.

  I had a week to bury my wife and get back to base. A week to try to find some answers.

  Chapter 2

  Being married is like having a best friend who doesn’t remember anything you say.

  -E-card

  Winter

  The man I’d been watching was calling me Winter. My eyes went to the sweatshirt he was wearing; I went to his right arm, took his hand in mine, and then yanked the shirt up revealing the same tattoo. Letting his hand drop, I yanked my shirt off over my head to reveal my tattoo to him.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked with a frantic note evident in my voice.

  I was so confused.

  His callused hand went to my side and ran from just underneath my breast to the waist of my jeans. Goosebumps appeared, chasing the path that his hand had just followed.

  “It’s beautiful. You must’ve had it done right after I left. Wow, did you get…” His voice froze midsentence, when his fingers encountered the raised, ugly scar that started at my hipbone and flowed to just above my knee. “What the fuck is this from?”

  His hands tore frantically at the button of my jeans. My heart pounded, but not for the reason you would normally think of when a stranger took off your jeans. I soon found myself with my pants down around my ankles, and Jack’s face practically touching the top of my thigh as he studied the scar. His large muscular hands framed my thigh, overlapping at the inside, squeezing lightly. I wasn’t scared in the least, though. My body knew his. Something felt so perfectly right about him touching me that not even the slightest bit of reluctance hit my body.

  “What…What…What happened?” He finally choked out.

  He leaned forward and kissed the puckered scar, and then leaned his forehead against it waiting for my reply.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even know my name until about ten minutes ago. You called me Winter; something seemed so right about it. The same goes for your name. When that man pulled me out of the car, my mind froze, and went somewhere I never knew existed. I was screaming your name and didn’t even realize that I was doing it.” I finally said.

  He yanked the bandana off his head and his spiky black hair sprung up. My hand lifted on its own volition, and his silky smooth hair slipped gracefully between my fingers. God, it was so soft and thick. My fingers started running through the soft locks, fingernails scratching on the way back to the front. His head leaned against my thigh a little harder, and he practically growled in pleasure.

  “God, I missed this the most. You touching me. This feels so good, so perfect.” He said gruffly, lips moving against my thigh.

  “When?” I whispered heavily, finally broaching the subject I’d been studiously avoiding.

  “Seven years, three months, and twenty two days.” He said, standing and pulling my jeans up deftly, buttoning them, and then stepping away.

  He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots as he paced the room.

  “I was in Afghanistan for three days before I realized that I didn’t want to leave you there without a piece of me. We were married by proxy within a week of my deployment. My father gave you away and Adam stood in for me.”

  An image of a grizzly old man with a jovial smile filled my thoughts, and I smiled. “Pops!”

  Jack’s sad smile made mine slip away instantly. I watched him, but I knew. His dad wasn’t alive anymore, and I felt such a sinking loss at that news, that it stole my breath.

  “He died about two years ago. He never stopped thinking that you were alive. He’d tell me every time I came to visit that you were out there somewhere waiting for me to come get you. I guess he was right. I should ha
ve listened to the old bastard, but I went over those police reports for months and months in my downtime. I had Adam look into as much as he could. God, I can’t freakin’ believe this! You’ve needed me for seven goddamned years, and where the fuck have I been?” He finished on a yell.

  His fist went through the wall in the next instant, and I wasn’t very surprised. The man always had one hell of a temper. A memory came to mind of a time when a boy started taunting me about my mother. He was one of those guys who didn’t take rejection very well, and after I turned him down for a date, he’d made it a necessity to torment me every time he got the chance. Only, the last time, Jack was there to beat the crap out of him.

  I snickered, and he turned to me sharply. “I just remembered when you did that the night you…” My voice trailed off as I realized what I was about to say. I hadn’t seen him in seven freakin years, and here I was about to comment about the night we’d had the best sex of my life.

  Not that I had anything to compare it too since I hadn’t been sexually active in the last seven years, nor do I remember any encounters before that. However, by the looks of it, I’d done the dirty with Jack more than once, if the expression on his face was anything to go by.

  “What do you remember?” He asked gruffly.

  “Ummm, well, I remember the hole in the wall after that boy said something derogatory. Then I remember us, well, um, we did it.”

  “We did it?” He laughed. “I would say so. I think we more than did it.”

  Trying to change the subject, I moved on to safer topics that didn’t leave me feeling as if I’d eaten a whole tub of Kick Ya Ass Hot peanuts. “I’ve had one fuck of a hard seven years, Jack. I don’t remember much. What I do remember doesn’t make one lick of sense. I have these dreams of winter and what I’m guessing is you. Now that you tell me my name is Winter, I think that makes more sense. When I was in the hospital and lost the baby…”

  Jack’s swift inhalation froze me midsentence. “You what?”

  I smiled sadly. “I lost our baby, I’m guessing. It was on September 9, 2006. I was one fucked up mess. I sustained s-so many contusions and abrasions to my body that they think the f-force of whatever happened to m-me made me miscarry. I was about three months along.”

  I watched a mask slip over his face, and decided to wait for to tell him the rest. Something in the air vibrated with menace, but I knew he wasn’t mad at me, only at the situation. “A month after I deployed.” He stated quietly.

  It was so quiet that I had to move closer to him to be able to hear what he said next. “I’m a fucking failure.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes, and I walked up to him and wrapped my arms underneath his. My head lay against his wildly thumping heart. His breathing was fast and erratic, but his arms went around me anyway. “You were my lifeline. I knew something was keeping me here. I was dead, Jack. So dead, in fact, that I remember a weird place that had fields and fields of Bluebonnets. I had a dog there that was running and playing. A young girl with black hair and black eyes was chasing after the dog, squealing in laughter. Something held me back from chasing after them, though, and that was a man with black hair and black eyes. That was you.”

  “Some fucking lifeline. I left you to whatever fate happened to you. We lost our child. Fuck. I didn’t even fucking look for you in the last two years. After I moved here from San Antonio, I couldn’t find it in myself to look anymore. When my dad died, I didn’t have that constant reminder anymore.” He replied dejectedly.

  “Jack. You’re a smart man. Whatever happened must have been so very real. So real that it fooled everyone. Now, I need to piss like a racehorse. Where’s the bathroom?” I said, trying not to dance from foot to foot.

  He laughed softly and pointed to the hallway that yawned behind me. Making my way, I used the facilities, and then being the nosy busybody that I was, I snooped.

  Opening the medicine cabinet first, I found the usual of shaving cream, toothpaste, toothbrush, and razor. Just as I was about to open the drawers, an amused voice drifted through the door. “You won’t find my condoms in there.”

  I slammed the drawer so quick that I caught my finger in it, and then proceeded to see stars as the throbbing of my finger left me breathless. “Fuck me. Mother fucker. Dirty rotten cock sucker.”

  “I see you still have that colorful mouth, too.” Jack said, as he slipped in the door and picked up my hand.

  He gave it a kiss and held it firmly in the palm of his hand, adding pressure to the sting, bringing it down to a six on the scale of zero and ‘I just stepped on a Lego’ ten.

  Turning out the light in the bathroom, he led me back to the kitchen table where he sat me down and then gave me an ice pack for my hand. He cracked open a Corona, then placed a glass of iced tea down in front of me with a box of Ritz Crackers and a bottle of squirt cheese.

  I fell on the sacrifice like a starved maniac. It was when I was about ten crackers in that I saw Jack silently laughing at me from across the table. “What?” I asked around a mouthful.

  Incidentally, I spewed cracker crumbs. My face flamed, and he laughed even harder.

  “My God. It’s as if we picked up exactly where we left off. What the hell is your fascination with cheese?” He asked with a smile.

  The smile didn’t reach his eyes though, telling me that he was still in shock.

  “How the hell should I know? Queso is my absolute favorite. However, if you give me a bag of shredded cheese, or even one of those round wheels in the wax paper, I’m a happy camper.” I admitted.

  “I know,” He said sadly. “Tell me how you came to be in Kilgore.”

  My good mood instantly deflated. That wasn’t something I wanted to speak about whatsoever. Nevertheless, I knew it needed to come out sooner rather than later. The man I spoke with told me that the situation I found myself in was dangerous. That if I delayed, it might not be something that I’d be able to fix if I stalled too long.

  Only because I wouldn’t be breathing.

  Taking a deep breath and then looking him in the eye, I trudged forward with my story.

  “It was the dreams that made me start looking into myself. From what I can guess, it was my researching, and then inquiring into random disappearances of nineteen year olds that I started to draw attention to myself.” I explained.

  “Keep going.” He said, while picking his feet up and propping them up on the chair beside me.

  I looked down at his greasy boots and continued.

  “Every once in a while, I would remember a memory, and then write it down in a little notebook. I figured that with enough time, I’d finally have enough information that I could start digging into something that would reveal my identity. However, it wasn’t until the past few months that I was able to look at it from a different perspective. The last dream I had was of going on a ride with a couple. I remembered the make and model of it, and then started searching for a stolen vehicle BOLO. That’s what led me to the couple. A man and a woman who’d disappeared. The man’s father had reported them missing, as well as the car.”

  “Your sister and her boyfriend at the time, Peter.” He said, sounding disgusted.

  “I have a sister?” I whispered.

  “Yeah. She still lives there, too. I check on her every year around Christmas.” He explained.

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I was flabbergasted. Although something was keeping me from going any further with that information. Something my brain was keeping me from remembering.

  Gathering my frayed emotions, I continued. “I guess I inadvertently set something in motion, because the next thing I know, some man on a motorcycle is telling me to leave. He gave me two thousand dollars cash, told me where to go, and not to use my cards. He switched my plates out, gave me a new ID and everything. He gave me a picture of you and told me to leave now. I’ve been watching you for a few days. I was trying to jog my memory before I approached you.”

  I worried my lip as I watched h
im process what I’d just told him. “What did this man look like?” He asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  I stood and threw the now empty cheese can in the trash, and then returned to my seat. “Salt and pepper hair. Awesome beard. He was hot for an old guy.”

  He growled low, then reached into his pocket and extracted his phone.

  “Yeah, you need to come over here. Now.” Jack said, then dropped the phone unceremoniously down onto the counter. It clattered, and then slid perilously close to the kitchen sink, but didn’t fall over.

  “You sure do know how to open a can of worms. Where are you staying?” He asked casually.

  It was anything but casual though. He wanted me to stay with him, but I wasn’t ready for that. Sure, we were married, but that didn’t mean I was ready for anything more. In fact, I was pretty sure I needed to process all of this away from him.

  “I’m at the Holiday Inn off the interstate. They were the only ones who took cash.” I admitted cautiously.

  “We’ll go get your stuff as soon as we speak with Sam.” He said distractedly, as he went to the sink and washed his hands.

  He did it methodically and thoroughly. Almost as a surgeon does right before he goes into surgery. Once he was done, he dried his hands off with the paper towels hanging underneath the top cabinets. Turning to me, he raised his eyebrow as if waiting for my refusal.

  “I’ll stay in your guestroom. I need time.” I agreed.

  No sense in wasting my breath. In the half an hour I’d been in his presence, I knew two things. One, you didn’t argue with him, and two, he had good snacks.

  “You wouldn’t be the woman I married if you didn’t think things through. You know I won’t hurt you, but you need time to process the things you learned today. I understand, and I won’t push you. However, you are my wife still, and I’ve missed seven years with you already. I won’t lose any more time.” He said gruffly as he walked up to me and cupped my face in his large hands.

  I watched as his eyes shuttered. He was a haunted man, and it wasn’t just from my so called ‘death.’ Other things had happened that only compounded on his grief. Things that I wanted desperately to know.