The Life After War Collection

Home > Other > The Life After War Collection > Page 536
The Life After War Collection Page 536

by Angela White


  “Is she okay?”

  The driver shrugged. “She always looks sad, but that baby sure does make her glow.”

  The driver kept talking, but the words rang through blurry ears. Angie had a baby. Angie had a man. She’d moved on.

  My heart broke into a million pieces.

  I almost didn’t get out of the cab.

  I could feel the driver evaluating me, but all I could think of was how much my family had hurt her. Angie had been innocent in everything, and she’d paid a heavy price. I had no right to interfere with the new life she’d built.

  I forced myself out of the cab and up the brick walk. It was a nice building with a security door that was propped open to let in a breeze, I assumed. My FBI friend had given me this address a few weeks ago. It had taken longer than I’d expected, but I was here.

  And I couldn’t knock.

  I could hear the television blaring a ballgame. That probably meant her man was home. I could also hear the softer babble of a female and a child. My Angie!

  The baby giggled as I stood there, sending that old rush of need and guilt through my heart. The baby’s laughter sounded just like Angie’s had while we were growing up. It was the final straw. Someone else had my life with Angie. Those sounds didn’t belong to me anymore.

  Hurting in ways that I’d never thought possible, I walked back to the cab.

  I’d finished growing up over the last two years. I could walk away without destroying us all over again. She was free.

  The driver’s gaze held sympathy as I returned, and also, disappointment.

  “Too bad, boy, but life sure is full of this, ain’t it?”

  I nodded distractedly, closing the door as desolation filled my soul. I would never be close to another female. Angie had ruined all of them for me.

  “Where to, son?”

  I sighed, turning my sight away from the past. “Nearest train or bus station. I need to get back to my base.”

  The cab rolled away slowly, giving me time to glance back once more if I wanted, but I didn’t. I would always remember Angie as we were–young and so in love that nothing else mattered.

  She would have wanted it that way, and so did I.

  The End

  This was the backstory of two main characters from the Life After War series.

  In that future, Marc and Angie have been reunited. Keep reading for a peek at that tale!

  *The following scene is from the Life After War series. It is written in a different style than the backstory was. This type of a jump can often be hard on a reader. Let me set the scene for you.

  Angie has finally called out to Marc. Their son is missing–the son that he doesn’t know about…

  2013

  Marc: Age 35

  Angie: Age 32

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Life After War

  February 10th, 2013

  Marc braked gently in front of the brick apartment building. He had been here a decade ago, but hadn’t possessed the courage or the callousness to knock. He had returned to duty and thrown himself into his career. By saving, fixing, and impressing, he’d eventually ended up in MARSOC, where they used his brains as well as his brawn, but he had never married, unable to make himself settle for another female. He’d never regretted loving Angie, only that he’d let them be caught before they could run.

  “She’s not here now. Place is empty,” Marc muttered, not sure why he had come. Chasing ghosts was always a bad idea, but here he was, drawn into the past again against his will.

  He had spent his adult life trying to convince himself that it hadn’t meant much, that she hadn’t been the one, and Marc was filled with sudden, familiar shame. He’d been unable to resist loving her and oh God, hadn’t every orgasm since paled in comparison? He owed her a debt, and there was little that she could ask for that he wouldn’t give. After all, she was family.

  I want to know what type of life she’s had, Marc thought. That’s why I came—recon. I don’t want to face her in the dark.

  He left the engine running and Dog watching anxiously. He didn’t lock the door, though the remote entry was in his pocket. Anyone who tried to enter the Blazer would get a big surprise.

  Marc jogged through the drizzle to the front of the building, vaguely noticing the burnt shape of a truck that was more recent and an oak tree that had obviously been hit by something harsh. His mind dismissed it as yet another battle scene.

  Opening the cracked door, Marc slid his coat behind his gun handles without even thinking about it.

  The hallway was dark and smelled like burnt sugar. Two sheets of paper on the carpeted floor caught his attention and Marc knew instinctively who had written them.

  I’ll settle for whatever is in those pages, he decided, snapping on his penlight and picking them up from the mud-tracked carpet. He didn’t really want to go inside the home that another man had shared with Angie, where some lucky bastard had lived the life he had dreamed about every night since being ripped from her side.

  Marc read the letters with a sharp-edged curiosity that missed little.

  Charlie, lock yourself inside and be as quiet as you can. Do it right now!

  If you’re reading this, either we missed each other or I didn’t survive the trip. I’m terrified of that, of leaving you on your own. I wish I could be with you! I love you and miss you so much it feels like there’s a knife in my gut.

  I have a big secret to tell you, one that was supposed to wait until you were grown and out of the house. Kenny is not your dad. I know you’ve suspected, but I couldn’t tell you before. I’m know you understand why.

  Your dad is Marcus Charles Brady.

  Our family was bible-strict Christian and when your dad and I fell for each other, only cousins by marriage; it was too close for people to accept. We hid it for a long time, but feelings like that can’t be fought.

  We didn’t plan on it, we were swept away. We had decided to leave when I was older, but fate didn’t give us time. A bit after your dad was sent away, I realized you were coming. And I wanted you more than anything.

  I didn’t tell anyone, just ran as fast as I could. They had legal control until I was of age, and since I was sixteen, they could have taken you. Worse, I’ll always believe they would have made me get an abortion. I ran, and… Kenny found me.

  How it happened is my own personal hell—you already feel too much of my pain—and I won’t share that. Kenny and I made a deal that said you and I would become his obedient family. It seemed like the best I could do at the time. I know now that it was the wrong choice. How could I not know, when I can feel it in your looks? He has been our master.

  Yet, after all that’s happened, he has chosen not to come back. That only leaves one person you can trust—your real dad. You have to call Marc, and you know what I mean by that. He’ll come once he knows it’s true. I’m so sorry that I never told Marc, never gave him the chance to be your father. He had no idea you existed, or he would have come for us. I know it in my...

  There was more, but Marc let it go. Anger, guilt, and joy warred in his heart. They had a son. They made a baby! She should have told me! I would have come back a happy man.

  Really? His heart was cruel. You wouldn’t have felt like a trapped criminal, certain that it was wrong?

  Marc let out a harsh sound. That’s exactly how it would have felt then, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t knocked, and she’d been forced to survive on her own.

  “I should have talked to her that day,” Marc said aloud.

  “Yes,” another voice answered with a deep satisfaction. “You should have.”

  Understanding instantly that this man had been here all along, waiting for her—their!—son, Marc spun as he drew.

  “You must be the sinner she talks about in the letter. Her lover,” Warren sneered, pain lacing his words.

  Marc took in the charred skin and furious expression, and instantly connected him to the wrecks outside. “You’re why she couldn
’t wait for me.”

  Marc was suddenly positive that this man had forced Angie to defend herself and the rage was nearly overwhelming.

  Warren scowled at the confirmation of their relationship, raising his own gun as he moved out of the dark corner where he’d been lurking. “My daughter and my leadership are long gone because of your witch. Will she come back for you?”

  Marc’s face darkened. “She’s not who you should worry about.”

  They moved at the same time, but only one shot lit the darkness as the Colt barked loudly in a flash of justice and death.

  Warren’s weapon dropped to the carpeted floor, blood blooming on his chest. A second later, the broken preacher dropped to his knees, expression almost relieved as scarlet ran in small streams from a corner of his mouth.

  Marc stared down at the shuddering man for whom death was fast approaching. When Warren’s mouth opened but no sound came out, Marc understood anyway.

  “She’s not here to serve any man. She’s special.”

  “A demon!” Warren choked out.

  Marc’s sympathy vanished and he watched the man take his last breath while either thunder or gunfire cracked violently in the distance.

  “Look at yourself. You have no right to judge.”

  After pulling Warren’s cooling corpse out into the wet morning and around the corner of the building, Marc put the letter back together on the glass door, where he was certain it had originally been.

  He returned to his warm vehicle, giving the anxious wolf a quick rub of comfort. He flipped on the wipers to clear the heavy layer of rain now thumping down on them. He wiped the stinking liquid from his hands and face as he drove away.

  Concentrating the way she had taught him so long ago, Marc called out as the riot-ravaged streets of Cincinnati rolled by. He’d done a lot

  of research on the paranormal since being separated from her. “Angie!”

  He hit the brakes as a child’s weather-faded ball rolled across the street, its color that of the dirty pavement, and he slowly rolled on as the wet wind gusted against the muddy car.

  “Angie!”

  I’m here.

  Her tone was cool, unreadable.

  “Where? I just left Queen City Hill.”

  Angela hesitated, knowing by his tone that he had read the letter that was meant for their son. How long had he known where she lived?

  About ten miles north of Greensburg, Indiana, she finally sent.

  “I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I wish you had. I’m thrilled. I never thought to have a child.”

  Did his words mean anything to her? Did she still have feelings? She sent a clear warning. He’s mine. Parentage doesn’t matter.

  Marc didn’t respond, though he wanted to. If she sensed the things floating through his mind, she would disappear. The idea hit him again, and he felt himself grinning. He had a son! It was a reason to have hope, a goal, and his heart was lighter than it had been since the war. He would now serve his child…and maybe that child’s mother.

  The End

  What would you like to do now?

  Browse merchandise for this series

  Read a LAW Wednesday Blog post

  Read another book by Angela White:

  -Bone Dust & Beginnings

  -The Change: A Fight for Freedom

  Be emailed when Angela has a new release

  Report an error in this book

  View the paperback for this book

  Read the Deleted Scenes

  Read the note from the author

  Read the actual Fernald Story on the Enquirer

  Have this book digitally autographed

  There is a wonderful site called Authorgraph that allows me to sign ebooks for readers, plus leave a short message. Cool, right? Just sign up (also free) and search for my name. Here’s the link: www.Authorgraph.com

  Go to all books by Angela White section

  Go back to the beginning of this book

  Author Notes

  I hope the reviews of this book will be gentle. I know it wasn’t exactly what you may have been expecting. I have to tell you, it feels wrong to leave them that way. I console myself with knowing that after the apocalypse, she and Marc are reunited and none of their need for each other has faded.

  Thank you for joining me on this backstory adventure. Perhaps in the future, I will cover a few other main characters from LAW. I think Adrian’s history needs to be told, don’t you?

  Until next time, my friends.

  Waving,

  Angie

  Deleted Scenes

  *Explicit

  Marc

  We stepped from the clubhouse to discover three Fernald men standing nearby. They’d been examining a dark patch of dirt until they heard us and now we regarded each other in surprise.

  Angie tensed, and I could feel her getting set to run. I gave the men a short wave and gently took her arm, mind screaming that we’d been spotted together in our secret place.

  I led Angie away, letting go of her hand, but I sensed the damage was already done as the men continued to examine us without speaking. If any of them knew my mother or Georgie, we were in big trouble.

  I circled us around and Angie caught my thoughts about being quiet. We got within fifty feet of the men, hunkered down in the bramble that never thinned down here. We couldn’t hear more than an odd word or two, but we were able to make out how concerned they appeared to be over the dark patch of dirt. Were there more leaks? Down here? Had Angie and I been exposed?

  “Come on,” Angie advised. “They don’t care about us.”

  We ran for the top of the hill, both scanning the fenced power substation that had taken away the best sled-riding hill in the entire county. The tall fence and big green boxes inside were eyesores.

  “So back here at dark?” Angie asked as we spotted traffic coming and biking kids going. We had to split up.

  “I’ll be there, baby-cakes.”

  She giggled again, sending that happiness right into my heart. When she took off running toward the woods, I had to force myself not to stare at her ass. She was well built for sixteen. In fact, she was well built for thirty.

  “I want to see you this time,” Angie demanded hours later, hand reaching toward me. “I never get to see you.”

  She quickly unsnapped my jeans and I didn’t protest. She’d been very patient on this subject and I was so stiff that I couldn’t breathe. I’d fantasied about moments like these and now I got to live them.

  I adjusted, exposing myself, and heat seared us as her fingers touched me. I stroked, thinking this was probably going to wind her up again. She’d already gasped all over my neck as I held her and played with those sweet titties. I’d brought us in tight and enjoyed her hand brushing my hardness as she pleased herself. Now, it was my turn, but if I took too long, she would want to go again.

  I moved faster as her warm fingers slid over my tip, rubbing through the moisture. Her flared nostrils said it was already too late to make this quick and I slowed down, enjoying it. I didn’t blame her for getting aroused again so fast. Her pleasure hit me that way too, but she also liked to test me on that two-minute recovery time and I needed skin.

  I stared at her chest, breaking out into a light sweat. Her hand cupped the twins and I arched, struggling for control. It felt too good to be over. I wanted it to last forever.

  “Me too,” Angie whispered, smiling. “But I also want to find out what happens when I do this.”

  She lifted her shirt, bra already removed when I played there earlier. Creamy globes with hard nipples filled my sight and I lost control, exploding in front of her fascinated gaze.

  “So that’s how that works!” she exclaimed, sounding like a scientist.

  I burst out laughing as I tried to direct the rest of the mess from the dirt floor into the paper towel I’d brought. I actually had a stack, but like usual, my jeans had paid the price for the first hours we’d been here.

  Angie’s han
d slid under her jeans and I forgot how to breathe again. I couldn’t be upset with her for liking sex with me. I wasn’t crazy.

  Deleted Scene #2

  Angie

  I wasn’t sure what to expect for my birthday. I wore plaid shirt that buttoned up the front. I’d noticed the increased appreciation from males when I wore that pattern. I had no idea what attracted them to it, but with the chilly fall weather, I didn’t mind the extra layer.

  I had the fire stoked up high and the buzzer from the kitchen set. I could rewind it three times before I had to be home for the party Georgie was forcing on everyone. I also had a beer that I’d taken from the restaurant, but I planned to let Marc have it and drink the water I’d brought. I didn’t care for the taste of beer.

  I heard his steps outside, but I still moved toward the escape hole on the other side of the clubhouse in case I was wrong. I couldn’t be caught in here with Marc, but I also didn’t want to be caught in here alone either. Another girl had been raped up on the bike path with only the same vague description of the man. It was scary.

  “Coming in.”

  I let my smile shine as his blue eyes locked on mine and for an instant, the world shifted under our feet.

  Marc came inside and secured the tarp, grinning. “That’s why.”

  “Why what?” I asked, admiring him in the firelight. He appeared taller, if that was possible. He had already towered over me.

  “Why you’re the one,” he stated, taking off his jacket after setting down a small bag. “After a welcome like that, I can’t see anyone else.”

  I giggled, blushing. I heard things like that all the time, but when it came from Marc, my insides became mush.

  “So what are we doing tonight?” I asked, unable to keep from it. I’d been considering the possibilities for weeks.

 

‹ Prev