All for Allie (Shaken Series)

by Bailes, J

  She slumps over and bites into her pizza. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come here and help me find something to watch,” she orders, patting beside her. I slip my shoes and jeans off before hopping on the bed and landing next to her.

  “You can’t find anything?” I ask, taking my own slice of pizza. She shakes her head in response. “Well then, we’ll talk,” I shrug.

  “Talk, huh?” She places her pizza back in the box and climbs on top of my lap. I place my pizza on the stand beside her bed, and then place my hands on either side of her thighs.

  “Yes, talk.” I confirm, biting my lip. I know my lip biting drives her wild.

  “Why do I get the feeling that ‘talk’ is code for something else?” she asks, bending down to kiss the side of my neck. The warmth from her lips sends chills through my body, immediately causing me to have a rock-hard erection. Feeling my hardness press into her, she glides forward and back, moving her pussy along my shaft. The fabric between us is too much, and I’m tempted to reach down and tear her underwear to pieces. “I knew it. So, is “talk” code for kissing or sucking?” she asks, kissing down the middle of my chest.

  God, how I want to say sucking. Oral is the closest we’ve come to any type of intercourse, and she sucks well.

  Fuck, I can’t. I push her away gently, “I gotta take a leak, babe. I’ll be right back.” She laughs at my excuse. She knows I don’t need to empty my hose, but it’s my way of telling her to calm the fuck down, before I slam my cock deep inside of her. I can’t lose control. When she decides that she’s ready for me to have her, I want to be gentle. I want to make her enjoy her first time, not have that painful experience most women complain about. All because the douche they gave it up to was too eager to bust one, rather than give one. However, Allie enjoys getting me worked up, and I’m beginning to think she’s wanting it just as much as I do. She sure as hell hasn’t stopped us the last few times, I have. I’m not sure how much longer I can resist her.

  “Umhum, sure,” she puckers. I cock my head and raise my brow, trying to look as serious as possible, but she’s so damn cute I can’t.

  I bite my lip in an attempt to prevent the smile from spreading across my face. “Don’t you ‘umhum, sure’ me, dammit.” I walk over to the bed and push her back into the mattress. I lie on top of her and pin her wrists above her head. “You like teasing me, don’t you?” I ask, staring deep into her eyes. She nods and latches her teeth onto her bottom lip, and I feel her chest rise and fall rapidly. My eyes avert to her mouth, and all I can think about is bending down and sucking her lip into my mouth, so I do.

  As I suck her lip, I bring one of my hands away from her wrist and massage her breasts. Her hand travels up and down the side of my arm, caressing my muscles. I release her lip and make my way to her neck, kissing slowly until my lips rest in between her breasts. “Why are you stopping?” she pants.

  “Because, babe. If I go any further, I won’t be able to stop,” I admit, honestly.

  “Then don’t.”

  If she only knew how much I want her, she wouldn’t tempt me. I may appear strong, but I’m weak when it comes to her. “You’re sure?” She doesn’t answer immediately. The room is silent, and I know she’s considering whether or not she’s truly ready.

  I pull away from her chest and bring my face to hers. As I rest my forehead against hers, I feel her breath against my lips as she breathes erratically. “It’s okay, Allie. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already told you this. I’ll wait for you,” I assure, placing a gentle kiss onto her lips.

  She nods and flashes me a half smile. “Okay.”

  I position us so that we’re lying side by side, so that we’re in the ‘spooning’ position. “Night, beautiful,” I whisper into her ear. As we lie in complete silence, I hold her and run my fingers through her hair. I hold her as if it’s the last time we’ll ever be together. And since tomorrows are never guaranteed, I’ll pretend like tonight’s our last. I’ll commit this time we have together to memory, and add it to our growing list of forever moments.

  “Wyatt?” Allie’s soft voice catches my attention just as I begin to doze off.

  “Yeah, babe?” I respond.

  “There’s nothing you can say or do to keep Kyle from leaving, is there?” The worry in her voice as she asks her question causes my heart to contract. As much as I wish that there was something I could do, I can’t. He has already signed his contract, taken his tests, and his training begins in just a few weeks. Unless I amputate one of his arms or legs, he has no choice but to follow through on his promise to serve his country.

  “No,” I reply, pulling her closer to me.

  “I didn’t think so,” she whispers, her voice sounding defeated.

  Allie grips my arm that’s resting around her waist, and her shoulders shake as she sniffles. I lean up and place my cheek to the side of her dampened face. “Al, tell me what you’re thinking,” I urge.

  She turns herself in my arms, and her teary eyes connect with mine. “I’m terrified, Wyatt. I’m so scared, so scared of losing him. If something happens to him-” Her voice trails off as her sobs consume her.

  Have you ever loved someone so much it hurts? Not just emotionally, but physically? I do. When she hurts, I hurt. I feel her heartache, and her fear. Moisture claims my eyes as her tears flow off her face and trickle down my bare chest. The pain my heart feels as I hear her cry is indescribable. I would hurt a lot less if someone reached through my chest, ripped my heart out, and stomped it flat upon the ground.

  All I can do is hold her, place kisses all over her head and the side of her face, and rub her back until she cries herself to sleep. It’s at this very moment, as she lies sound asleep in my arms, that I make my decision. My decision to protect her, to keep pain from consuming her heart, to protect her from the sting that death leaves behind. Since I can’t keep him from becoming a Marine, I’ll join him.

  I know this will hurt Allie, but I’m stronger, faster, and smarter than Kyle; he needs me. He’s careless and never pays any attention to his surroundings. He’ll get himself killed without me. So, I make a promise to myself that I’ll keep him alive. I’ll throw myself in the line of fire, over a bomb, whatever it takes to prevent Allie from experiencing the loss of her one and only brother. First thing tomorrow, I’ll schedule a meeting with a recruiter and see what my options are.

  Three

  Pained Memories

  I MET WITH recruiters a little over one week ago. Since my meeting, I want to kick Kyle a brand new asshole, badly. I’ve made the biggest decision of my life, signing four years of my life away. I begin basic training in a little over two weeks, and I have no clue how or when to tell Allie. I’ve taken all the required tests, you know, the ones they make you take to see if you’re “smart enough” to join the military. Wanna take a guess at which branch I’m going into? Here’s a shocker; I’ve been selected to serve in the United States Marine Corps. My alcoholic father is an ex-Marine; his father was a Marine, and my great grandfather was a Marine. The material has been embedded into my brain since I was old enough to walk. This news should make my father proud, finally.

  My father has no love for me. He’s a drunk, abusive asshole. He’s beat the shit out of me since he retired from the military, a little over five years ago. Mom claims it’s because he has undiagnosed post-traumatic stress disorder, but I believe it’s an excuse to help her survive her day. He feels as if he needs to be in control at all times, and if he isn’t, he feels like it’s his place to put you in line. He feels as if everyone is beneath him, and no one is ever good enough, especially not me. He thrives on making people nervous, fearful of him. What he’s never seemed to realize is that he raised me to never back down; therefore, I’ve never bowed down to him. I’ll never allow him to have power over me. I have, and always will, stand up for what I believe in.

  I remember when I told him that I wasn’t following in his footsteps; how could I forget? That was the day he blackened both of my
eyes, and slammed my head through the drywall in the kitchen. He took my arm and twisted it behind my back, and pulled it up toward my neck until I caved, but I didn’t. My not surrendering to him resulted in a trip to the ER with a dislocated shoulder, and a hairline fracture to my wrist and collarbone. He believes college is a waste of money, so he refuses to pay even a dime of my tuition. Thankfully, I need nothing from him. I graduated high school with a 3.8 GPA in honors, and I don’t need a fucking cent from him. I’ve been getting by just fine on my scholarship.

  When he gets the news that I’m withdrawing from college and training to become a

  Marine, maybe he’ll finally show some fatherly affection. Give me a slap to the back and say “That a boy, son.” Yeah, that’ll never happen. Not that I need it, but it would be nice to know that the father I once knew and loved, is inside of the monster that claimed him five years ago. Then again, I may need to prepare myself for one hell of a boxing match. He may still be bitter from the stab wound Kyle gave him. I haven’t been home since that incident. If I’m not at Allie’s, I stay in the local hotel. I’m not forbidden from my house, but I try to avoid Big Coop every chance I can.

  Two months ago, I walked in on my father dragging my mother through our living room by her hair. My dad is a decent-sized man, and the image that flashed through my mind was that of David fighting Goliath in the Bible. He stands at six-three, and is around 235 pounds of pure muscle. He may be an alcoholic, a fifty-three year old dick, but he’s kept his physical appearance looking good. Compared to my mom, who is five-four in height and maybe 115 pounds soaking wet, I’m sure you can imagine the rage that surged through my body as I watched him drag her around like she was a rag doll.

  I saw the blood dripping from my mother’s nose and charged him. I tackled him just like I did my opponents when I played football. Of course, I didn’t think before I tackled him, and I almost broke my mother’s neck because he didn’t release his grip from her hair. Once I had him against the wall, I reared back and slammed my fist into his nose; his blood splattered all around us. As a result, he let go of my mom. As I had my eyes on her, making sure she was okay, he tackled me to the floor.

  His fist collided with my temples multiple times. I heard my mother cry for him to stop, but her pleas seemed to fuel his anger. My head pounded as black and white spots took over and clouded my vision. As I began to fade out of consciousness, I heard my dad grunt in pain. I couldn’t lift my head to see what had happened, but I heard my mother gasp as Kyle threatened my father. He demanded my father get off me, and if he didn’t, he wouldn’t think twice about stabbing him in the neck. Everything that happened after that was a blur, I can’t remember shit.

  The next day I woke up to Lucille’s fingers pressed into the side of my wrist as she checked my pulse. Kyle brought me here so his mom could check me out. Lucille said that she assumed I only had a mild concussion, and there didn’t seem to be a reason to take me to the hospital. Not only that, but she was sure I didn’t want to deal with officers, or defend Kyle’s reason for stabbing my father. She stayed in Kyle’s room and watched me the entire night.

  After Lucille allowed me to get up, I went down to talk to Kyle in the living room. He explained to me how he walked in and saw my mother nestled into the corner, crying for my father to stop hitting me. Kyle went to pull him off, but suffered an elbow to the jaw instead. The only thing he could think to do was to run into the kitchen and grab a butcher knife. He ran back in, and seeing me fading, he jabbed the knife into my father’s shoulder. He wasn’t trying to kill him, only trying to get his attention, and it worked. So yeah, I haven’t seen or talked to my parents since then.

  ***

  I went by my house yesterday, and to my surprise, a big ‘For Sale’ sign in the front yard greeted me. Since I tossed my key a few weeks back, I had to peek through the windows to confirm our home was truly empty, and it was. I called my mom’s cell, but her number has been disconnected. I attempted to remember my father’s number, but since I’ve called him maybe twice throughout my entire life, I couldn’t figure out the last three digits. Am I hurt that they up and left without notifying me? Yes. I know my father and I don’t get along, but I figured at least my mother would reach out to me. My mother and I have a close relationship; it’s been us against the world most of my life. So for her to leave me behind, it stings a little.

  My father served twelve years in the military, so it was just the two of us while he was away. Once he retired, he became pure evil. The man I once knew as someone who never believed in abusing women, who promised to have my balls for dinner if I so much as laid a finger on the opposite sex, turned into the most abusive person I’ve ever known. My mother has always tried her best to protect me from him, and even though she knew what the outcome would be, she never backed down. I have to admit that I have concerns that he’s killed her. This isn’t normal behavior for her, and it’s the only excuse I can think of as to why she wouldn’t call to let me know that they were leaving.

  Fuck it. I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone, besides Allie. Allie is the reason I get up each morning, my reason to keep on going. How in the hell am I going to tell her what I’ve done without breaking her heart? As much as I hate to see her cry, I have to stay strong. Besides, there’s no going back now. Our time together is limited, and I don’t want to spend it fighting, or drying her tears. I know that there’s a possibility I’m going to lose her once I tell her I’ve joined the military, but it’s a risk I’ve prepared myself for. Kind of.

  Allie is the only person in my life who I can’t see living without. No matter if we’re an exclusive couple, which I highly prefer, or just friends; I need her in my life one way or another. When I’m without her, I feel as if I can’t breathe. When we fight, my heart remains contracted until we make up. At her smile, my knees go weak; my tongue gets twisted, and my insides become knotted. The very thought of me losing her is slowly killing me. Over the last few days, I haven’t eaten a single thing; my appetite is nonexistent, and my nerves are shot. I’m scared shitless to see her reaction to me leaving her. I have to keep telling myself that I’m doing this for her, only her.

  Do I care that she may hate me for my decision? Fuck yeah. But I’d rather live in pain being without her, rather than be here comforting her when she receives the news that her brother has been killed in the line of duty. Which would happen, if I wasn’t following him. I’m not even sure that Kyle and I will be on the same unit or get deployed at the same time. All I can do is pray for answered prayers. Otherwise, I signed the next four years of my life away for nothing. Walk by faith and not by fear, right? I have faith, and faith never fails.

  Four

  Indecisiveness

  AS I ENTER the Andersons’, I debate on who to tell first: Lucille, Kyle, or Allie. Immediately, I eliminate Allie; she’ll need the support of all three of us when I drop my bomb on her. In fact, shit’s going to hit the fan when she finds out I’m headed out for training soon, and that I’m not allowed to contact her for at least two months minimum. She’s had a couple of weeks to let Kyle’s departure sink in; I’m leaving her with only a few days to process my leaving her. I say this as if I’m actually leaving her, but I’m not. It’s just that I already know those are going to be the words that slip out of her mouth: “You’re leaving me?” I can hear the words in my mind, as if she’s already spoken them. She knows I would never leave her, but those three words rip me to shreds.

  “What’s up, bro?” Kyle greets, jogging down the stairs as I enter inside their home.

  “Not much, man. Hey, is Allie home?” I ask, returning his one arm hug. He shakes his head. “No, she and mom left a little over an hour ago to go into town.” His response calms me a little. I stand in the foyer with my eyes fixated on the ceiling, thinking if I should go ahead and tell him since he’s the only one home.

  “Why? Something wrong?” he asks quizzically. I shake my head.

  “Pfft, please. Bro, I’ve know you
too long to know when there’s something bothering you. Spill it.”

  He’s right. If anyone knows me better than myself or Allie, it’s Kyle. Plus, dude has psychic-like qualities. “Umm, I begin training in, like, seven days,” I announce.

  “You got a job? Why? Classes begin in just a few weeks.” My emotions are all over the damn place. I’m nervous, anxious, and angry. And as he reminds me that classes begin soon, and I’m throwing away my scholarship because of his dumbass decision, I’m becoming nauseous. Not only has he cost me my schooling, but his sudden and wild hair-up-the-ass decision, may just cost me the love of my life as well.

  “No, dumbass, I signed my four years with the Marine Corps,” I inform. Kyle’s jaw drops, “You didn’t.” He seems stunned by my announcement. “I did,” I confirm.

  His head drops and he takes in a few breaths. “Why? Wyatt, why would you decide to do that?” he asks aggravated.

  Isn’t it obvious? He’s doing it for Allie, and so am I. “The same reason you did. For her,” I remind.

  “Bro, she was only part of my reason for joining,” he explains.

  “Part? What the fuck are the other reasons?” I ask angrily. He rubs his hands up and down the front of his face, and blows out a breath. “I want to make a difference, Wyatt. Stand up for what I believe in, serve others, do what God put me here to do—save lives.” Is he kidding me? You serve the homeless. You serve at nursing homes and retirement centers! You do not serve by joining the fucking military!

  “Well, whatever the hell your reasons are, I’m coming with you.”