by Lisa Ladew
Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Belmonte Publishing, LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Club Prive remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Belmonte Publishing, LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Her Soldier’s Solace
by Lisa Ladew
Chapter 1
Charlene hurried out of the changing room, balled up her scrubs, and shoved them into the laundry basket in the hospital hallway, then turned the corner quickly, trying to sneak past the nurse’s station before anyone had a chance to say anything to her. She had two full days off for the first time in months and there was no way she was going to cover for anyone, work an extra shift, or do any volunteer work. This was her weekend and she was going to enjoy it.
No luck. Becca caught her easily, even though she partially hid herself behind a cart an aide pushed briskly past. “Charlene, Charlene, wait!”
Charlene stood up straight and turned towards Becca, trying to force a smile on her face. “I was supposed to be off over four hours ago, Becca. I pulled a double the last three nights. I haven’t had a day off in over two weeks. I can’t do another shift. It’s the law.”
Becca giggled and waved a limp-wristed hand at her. “No, silly, I don’t want you to work anymore. These came for you.”
Charlene’s stomach dropped. Next to Becca on the desk was a vase filled with white roses. She hurried over and grabbed them. “Thanks,” she mumbled, turning on her heel and trying to escape.
“Who are they from? The card doesn’t say.”
Charlene only shook her head and hurried to the elevators.
***
Down in the lobby of the hospital, Charlene took the flowers out of the vase and walked into the gift shop. The stick-thin, older volunteer behind the counter crossed her arms and eyed the flowers. “More flowers? You’re one lucky lady.”
Charlene smiled weakly. “Thanks. I don’t need this vase either though. You want it?”
“Of course, thank you for your generosity.”
Charlene dropped the vase on the counter and turned to go, as her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her purse, cradling the flowers in the crook of her elbow. It was a text from Kerry.
Another flower delivery.
Charlene bit the inside of her lip. More at home too. Great.
No name still? she sent back.
No. That makes six times you’ve gotten flowers in two weeks. This dude has flown straight past sweet secret admirer straight into creepy stalker territory.
Charlene sighed and shoved her phone back in her purse. Her sister didn’t even know about the flowers she’d gotten at work.
She walked quickly through the lobby, waving at nurses, smiling at doctors, but happy when she pushed her way out through the front doors and she could just stare at the ground and think. She wouldn’t throw the flowers away until she was away from hospital grounds. She didn’t want to invite any questions from someone who knew her about why she didn’t want them.
She walked around the back of the hospital to the parking lot, feeling a bit lighter with each step. The moon had just begun to rise in the sky and she stared at it as she walked, wondering if it was full. It looked large, and almost a complete circle but not quite. Maybe tomorrow, or had it been last night? The weather was warm, as spring in California always was.
Footsteps behind her caught her attention and she swung around, Relic’s words from the Defense against Rape and Aggression class she had taken two years before playing inside her head.
Not being afraid to stand up for yourself verbally may be more important than anything we can teach you physically. You can head off many physical attacks just by being loud and taking the offense. Just start screaming. Don’t worry about being embarrassed. It’s always better to be alive and embarrassed than the alternative.
She could see his face in her mind and hear his voice in her head and that hurt her heart but she didn’t pay it any attention at that moment. She couldn’t afford to. Women had been attacked in this parking lot before, in fact, all female employees were supposed to request a security guard to walk them to their cars. Charlene had done so faithfully until one of the security guards had been discovered to be behind two of the attacks.
She clutched her purse to her side, squeezed the flowers hard against her elbow, and opened her eyes wide as she turned to see who was behind her.
Adrenaline dumped into her system. Wayne held up his hands immediately, a puppy-dog look on his face. “I’m not here to hurt you Charlene, I just─well, you’re hard to get ahold of. You’re always working and I didn’t want to go to your house. I figured Kerry would call the cops on me as soon as she saw me.”
Charlene stared at him, wanting to believe him. He looked good at least, and she could tell he wasn’t drinking. His face was clear, he’d lost his beer belly, his clothes were clean and pressed, and his hair neat. “Wayne, I didn’t even know you were out of jail.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I got early release.”
Charlene’s face got hot and she held back the urge to bug out her eyes. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You cheat on me with my friend, hit her, then choke me when I ask you for a divorce. You aren’t sentenced for over a year and a half, you only get two months because it was your first offense, and they still let you out early?”
Wayne’s puppy-dog look stayed put through Charlene’s tirade, and he had the good sense to drop his eyes and look embarrassed. “You aren’t the Charlene I remember.”
“No, Wayne, I’m not. And most of that is your fault.”
“I can acknowledge that. I can own up to my faults.” He took a step forward, then backed up again when he saw her stiffen. “Baby, I’ve changed. Didn’t you get my apology letter?”
“I did. It said you wouldn’t try to contact me again.”
He tried to force out a laugh. “Well, yeah, about that. They had us write repentance letters in AA. But this is about something else, entirely.”
Charlene looked at the flowers under her arm. “You’ve been sending me the flowers, haven’t you?”
His face looked hopeful, and it made her want to vomit. “Yeah, baby, it was me. I want you back.”
She didn’t hesitate. “That will never happen.”
He held his hands up. “I’m a different person, Charlene. I went to AA. I’m volunteering my time to help underprivileged kids. I did my time. I got a new job. Ask me anything. I’m changed.”
Charlene shook her head. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed.”
Wayne’s tone turned needling. “Why, baby? I know you aren’t with anyone.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“No, not watching, but I know how much you work. There’s no way you are with someone. You don’t have time.”
Wayne looked around, then got down on his knees in the parking lot. “I’ll beg if you want me to. I’m a changed man. Can you at least consider giving me a chance? Maybe talking to me. So you can see I’m telling you the truth?”
Charlene hardened her heart and her eyes and shook her head.
Wayne stood up and brushed himself off, his head down. “Why?” he asked without looking up at her.
Charlene considered answering, but knew it would do no good to explain the dozens of reasons she would never be with him again. He broke their marriage and any relationship they ever could have had the moment he put his fingers around her throat ─ no before that. The mom
ent he’d punched Marie in the face. Add to that the fact that she’d married him for all the wrong reasons, maybe that she’d never loved him at all, but rather the security he had seemed to represent? Then pile on top of that the fact that she was in love with a man who seemed to have disappeared off the planet? Too much. It was all too much.
“More reasons than you can count,” she said firmly. “Find someone new Wayne. Treat her right from the first word. Never drink again. And never, ever let yourself get mad at anything she does or says.”
She took the flowers from under her arm and threw them at him. “And give these to her.”
She turned in the parking lot and strode towards her car, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
Chapter 2
Charlene sat on the floor of her bedroom, sick at choosing to spend so much of her first day off doing what she was doing, but unable to help herself. She shuffled through the pile of one hundred and eighty-two letters in front of her. It was something she did often, picking out her favorites, reading them from greeting to sign-off, remembering how each letter had made her feel, following the growing love between her and Relic like a spectator.
She separated the first letter from the pile and put the rest down, then leaned against the wall and settled in to read.
Dear Charlene,
Thank you for the letter. I thought of you the whole way here, the time we spent together, the feel of your skin and your body. And of course, your incredible bravery at leaving a man who didn’t deserve you, or any woman.
Thank you for giving me the credit, but it was all you. All I did was shine a tiny penlight on what you knew to be true. It takes a lot of courage to change your life the way you did. You are the one who will have to deal with any consequences, any fallout. That reminds me, I’ve enclosed my brother’s number and he has said he will help you if Wayne gives you any problems. In fact, I’ve asked him to check on you. I hope you don’t mind. He’s a nice guy, and until Wayne is behind bars, I won’t feel safe without someone looking after you. Not that you can’t look after yourself, I know you can.
You asked what it’s like in Afghanistan. Please tell me if I ever bore you, but I’ll answer any questions you have, anytime.
I’m part of the 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team. I’m a squad leader, stationed at a FOB, a forward operating base, in the Paktika province, which sits right on the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan. We are relatively safe inside the FOB. The Taliban, actually they are all Haqqani out here — same goal, different name — do rocket us frequently, maybe five days a week, but they rarely hit us. When night falls, we can see them and hit them with much greater accuracy than they can hit us, so those of us not on-duty sleep fairly deeply and well.
It’s the patrols that are scary, and we have so many reasons to patrol.
More soon, I promise. I would love a care package, thank you for thinking of me. My favorite candy is Snickers bars, but they melt in the heat. Mustard would be great. Maybe cookies or flavored pretzels? I would love books. Surprise me. Send me your favorite and I promise I’ll read it.
With so much affection,
Relic
Charlene ran her fingers over his name. She remembered receiving that letter. Remembered how they’d come together a few days before and she’d given him her body without knowing much about him. Only that he was strong and handsome and sweet and that he respected women. She’d considered him a one-afternoon stand of sorts, thinking she would regret it forever if she hadn’t done what she did, taking him into her bed a few hours before he left to go back to Afghanistan, and an even shorter time after she’d officially separated from Wayne.
But then she’d received his first letter, and she discovered he was intelligent, kind, and liked to read. She’d thought about that letter for days, and it marked the beginning of her falling in love with him.
She put the letter back in its spot at the top of the stack and cut the pile in the middle, the same way she would cut a deck of cards.
She knew immediately this letter was the first he had written her after his next leave to the states, during which they’d spent two weeks together, after approximately eight months of writing letters back and forth.
Dearest Charlene,
I’m on the plane leaving California and I couldn’t wait to write you. I love you, I love you, I love you.
I still can’t believe we said that to each other, but I am so glad. I’ve been thinking it for months but I never had the courage to say so. You are so much braver than I’ll ever be for saying it first.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed our two weeks together. I still can’t believe we never left the hotel. Actually I can, but does it seem strange to you? Do you wish we would’ve done anything else? Did I disappoint you at all? Please tell me in detail, so I know for next time. If there is a next time. You have me thinking about getting out of the Army for the first time in seven years. My ETS date comes up around the same time our unit transfers out of the sandbox. Maybe I won’t re-up. I wonder what kind of jobs airborne soldiers are good at in the civilian world.
Back to our two weeks of bliss. It could not have been more perfect. I especially loved all the naked time and all of the sex. You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen and I can’t help but close my eyes and imagine it every chance I get. I have to be careful, though, because hard-ons are noticeable in uniform, and there is little to no chance to take care of it, if you know what I mean. Close quarters with a dozen other men all the time. But I’ll gladly deal with blue balls to keep your image fresh in my mind.
We land soon. I’ll write more tomorrow. Until we meet again, with all the love available in my heart, I love you,
Relic
PS I can’t believe Wayne is still not in prison, but I’m glad he is leaving you alone. As always, be sure to call my brother if that changes.
Chills went through Charlene as she remembered those two weeks. More sex than she’d ever had in her life, including all the years she was married, and incredible closeness with a man she loved─ closeness she’d never experienced with Wayne. She and Relic could have lived off of love, water, and sex alone, sunshine and food not needed.
She put the letter back, and turned to the one at the back of the pile, the last one she had ever received.
Dearest Charlene,
Your letters and packages always bring such a smile to my face. You shouldn’t send packages so often, though. It’s got to be expensive. Reading your words warms my heart a dozen times more than Pepperidge Farm ever could, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the packages so much, and so does my squad, especially the guys who get nothing from home, but I don’t want you to spend your life at the post office. You work so hard at the hospital already, Char.
I’m so excited about our joint reading of The Girl on the Train. Here in Afghanistan, we are building a new COP, a combat and patrols outpost, which requires a lot of security detail so I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to read. Let’s try twenty pages a week for now. I’m sorry that is so slow. It will pick up when the COP is done. After this, let’s do some nonfiction if you want. Something heavy like Chasing the Scream, or more fun and creative, like Big Magic. You pick.
You asked a couple of questions in your last letter and I wanted to answer them. Here goes:
Yes, I do want to get married someday. I’m embarrassed to say I want the whole thing. The white picket fence, the dog and cat, the two kids, the woman to spend my life with. I’m scared to say so because I’m not sure how you feel about marriage after Wayne. I know you know all men aren’t like that, so I’ll just chew off all my fingernails until I hear back from you. Even if you say you never want to marry again, it’s okay with me. I’ll understand. What I really care about is that you won’t be scared off by me admitting what I want. I would never pressure you, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dream of putting a ring on your finger someday. Of course in the most romantic way possible.
Okay, let’s get past
that for now.
How do I feel about what we are doing in Afghanistan these days? That reminds me. I almost forgot to tell you that I’ve been promoted. It’s no big deal. I’ve been doing a staff sergeant job for months now and they finally pinned the rocker on and gave me the extra pay. It doesn’t mean much else.
I thought long and hard about how to answer your question. I joined the Army because I thought we were doing the right thing over here, and I did think it would prevent terrorism on our soil. It has seemed to do that to some degree — if the Taliban want to kill someone, I’d rather it be soldiers who signed up for it, than civilians just trying to live their lives back home.
We are also drawing fire away from women here, and seeing new freedoms pop up in Kabul and Kandahar that haven’t existed in years. That makes me happy. If my presence on this mountain keeps extremists from brutalizing Afghan women, even if solely by distracting them, then I’ll eat my MRE’s, duck when the rockets come through, and march out for another thousand patrols gladly.
That being said I can’t help but think what we are trying to do here is doomed to fail eventually. I hate the thought of that, but for now all I can do is my job. I will tell you the greatest battle out here is not between the American and the Taliban, but instead, between the individual and depression. That’s one I will fight until my dying breath, don’t worry.
I love you more than I can say,
Relic
Charlene sensed, rather than heard, movement outside her door. Kerry walked in, a smile on her face, which faded immediately.
“Charlene, you aren’t,” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment.
Charlene stared at her sister for a long time, trying to decide how to proceed. “So what if I am? They bring me comfort.”
Kerry crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, almost, but not quite, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, you look great. Super happy.”
