Razor Wire

by Lauren Gallagher

  She rubbed the back of my neck. “What happened?”

  “It went about as well as I expected.”

  “Shit. That bad?”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “Well . . . no.”

  I sat back and met her eyes. “I really need to get out of this office. I don’t care if Gutiérrez sends me over to Kadena or if he has me checking IDs at the gate. I just . . .” I shook my head. “I can’t deal with him.”

  “I know.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “And reporting him—”

  Almost instantaneously, my eyes teared up.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” She wrapped her arms around me. “He threatened you again, didn’t he?”

  “Of course he did.” I sniffed and held onto her. “Same threat as before. That I’ll regret it if anyone finds out this is his kid, and he’ll . . . Fuck, I don’t know what to do.”

  “I know. Fuck that son of a bitch.” She kissed the top of my head and sighed into my hair. “I’m so sorry, Kim.”

  After a moment, I sat up and wiped my eyes. “I guess, well . . . The thing is, I don’t have a choice. I can’t go through with an abortion. He’s got me backed into a corner about pressing charges. There’s really only one thing I can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  I moistened my lips. “Have the baby. Give it up for adoption. And move on with my life.” I held her gaze, silently begging her not to remind me that she was obligated to report Stanton on my behalf. I had a choice. Legally, she didn’t.

  But she just nodded and took my hand. “Okay. Whatever happens, I’ll be there.”

  I brought her hand up and kissed her fingers. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she whispered and hugged me again. “Now let’s get the fuck out of this place.”

  “Good idea.”

  Two cigarettes after we’d left the precinct, Kim and I made our way to my car.

  As I waited for the AC to cool everything off, I turned to her. “We’re both back to work tomorrow. I guess I should take you home so we can get unpacked.”

  “Oh God.” Kim pinched the bridge of her nose. “Goddamn it. I don’t want to go back there.”

  “Back where? The barracks?”

  She nodded.

  “What? Why?”

  “Word was getting around. Even before I went on leave.” She lowered her hand and leaned over, hugging herself. “I heard some of the guys in the barracks talking about how hot pregnant women are. And fucking them is awesome because you don’t have to use a rubber.”

  “Yeah, guys talk.”

  She eyed me. “And they’ve conveniently brought up that subject three times while I was within earshot.”

  “Fuck . . .”

  “Yeah. And . . .” She swallowed, and her jaw tightened as she stared out the window.

  “What? Tell me?”

  “They, um . . .” She pulled in a deep breath as she turned to me. “I heard someone say if a chick’s pregnant, she obviously, well, wants it. To be fucked, I mean.”

  “Jesus.”

  She sniffed. “Isn’t it nice that our chain of command leads by example?”

  I couldn’t even muster a smile. I reached across the console and held her hand in her lap. “Sweetheart, do you feel safe in the barracks?”

  Kim shuddered.

  “Why don’t you come stay with me?”

  She turned her head. “I’m an E4. I can’t live off-base.”

  “Under the circumstances, I don’t think you should live on-base.” I squeezed her hand. “It’s up to you.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  I took her back to the barracks so we could pick up a few things for her. As she packed, I glanced down the hall. A few doors were open and male voices talked shit over video games while a couple of guys in uniform headed out, probably on their way to work. Only a door and thin walls separated her from any of them. I could only imagine how she felt living here. If it was anything like how I’d felt after Afghanistan, then she needed to get the hell out of here and go someplace safe. Maybe she couldn’t get away from these guys at work, but she could at least undress, shower, and sleep without being terrified every time she heard someone walk past her door.

  After she’d packed, I took her seabag and hoisted it onto my shoulders. She slid her laptop and a paperback that had been sitting by her bed into a small backpack.

  She followed me to my apartment, which was about fifteen minutes from White Beach, and we carried everything upstairs.

  I set her seabag beside the couch in the living room. “It’s not much, but you can stay as long as you need to.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” She set on the edge of a couch cushion. “I feel a lot better being away from that place, at least for now.”

  “I don’t blame you.” I sat beside her and put my hand on her knee. “And I have to admit, I kind of like having you here anyway.”

  “Yeah?” She finally smiled. “Why’s that?”

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Why do you think?”

  She let herself be pulled closer, and when she released her breath, the knots in her shoulders seemed to vanish all at once.

  “I like being here. Being with you is so much safer.” She lifted her chin and kissed me gently. “But that’s definitely not the only reason I like being with you.”

  “I would hope not.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.

  And didn’t pull back.

  I’d only meant for a light, affectionate kiss, but the softness of her mouth was addictive. And after the day we’d had, all the bullshit and stress and fucking chaos, I couldn’t resist the reprieve that her warm embrace offered. One kiss, a tighter embrace, and the next thing I knew, we were way too close for this to end anytime soon.

  I broke the kiss and murmured, “I’ve, um . . . I haven’t shown you the bedroom.”

  “Hmm, no, you haven’t.”

  “I should fix that.” I took her hand, and she let me lead her down the short hallway.

  As I was pulling her back into my arms, she scanned our surroundings, and a smirk played at her lips. “These walls concrete? Like in the barracks?”

  “Yep.” I snaked my hands around her waist. “Which means the neighbors won’t hear a thing.”

  She giggled and pulled me closer. “That’s what they think.”

  “Mmm, why do I get the feeling you see this as a challenge?”

  She nudged me toward the bed. “And you don’t?”

  “I never said that.” I dragged her down onto the bed with me, and the second my back hit the mattress, we were too busy kissing to bother with playful banter. Too busy kissing and too busy getting past all these clothes to the skin underneath.

  We quickly stripped off everything from the waist up. My bra hadn’t even hit the floor before Kim moved in and started on my breasts. She spent ages on one nipple, teasing with lips, tongue, and teeth, before moving to the other.

  I slid a hand beneath her shirt and found her breast. Her nipple was rock hard, and when my fingertip brushed it, she jumped.

  “Still sensitive?”

  “Mm-hmm. But keep . . . keep . . .”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I pinched her nipple gently, but firmly, and kissed my way down the side of her neck. Moaning, she squirmed under me, pressing her breasts into my hands and her body against mine.

  “We should really do something about all these clothes,” I said.

  “Mm-hmm. But I like . . . what you’re . . .”

  I pinched her nipple a little harder, and she groaned.

  “Fuck, Reese.”

  “We should get undressed,” I whispered. “So I can touch you all over.”

  “Yes. Now.”

  We separated, and she grabbed my waistband. Her hands were steadier than mine, and she managed to get the button and zipper undone with less trouble than I probably would’ve had. Then she p
ushed my shorts over my hips, and I sighed as her warm hands slid over my newly bared skin. In between kissing and touching, we shed the rest of our clothes and pulled each other close on top of my comforter.

  She ground against me. “Fuck. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Me neither.” I kissed her. “So you didn’t get bored with this in Hawaii?”

  She laughed. “Oh fuck no. Did you?”

  “Not even a little.” I traced her sides with my palms. “I wanted to stay another month just so we could do more.”

  She moaned. “We can do everything here.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Can we just stay here all night?”

  “If we do,” I murmured, “we’re not going to be able to move tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to move tomorrow.” She curved her hand around the back of my neck. “I just want you.”

  “Oh God . . .” My nipples grazed hers, sending a tremor through me. “The feeling’s mutual, baby.”

  “Thought so,” she said and kissed me.

  Hands all over skin, breasts against breasts, lips and tongues playing—God, I really didn’t give a fuck if I could move tomorrow, either, as long as this didn’t stop anytime soon. And she was going to be staying here? In my apartment? In my bed? Jesus . . .

  Kim pushed me onto my back and parted my legs. As she sat up and straddled my thigh, drawing my other leg up toward her hip, my breath caught.

  Oh yes.

  Yes, please . . .

  She slid forward, and I exhaled as her pussy pushed up against mine. Then her hips were in motion, and holy fuck, I loved the way she felt, the way she rubbed over my clit. I met her rhythm, rocking my hips with hers so we rubbed together just right.

  I couldn’t get enough of running my hands all over her naked skin. Of having her against me and above me as she brought me closer and closer to what promised to be an intense orgasm.

  And the way she moved her hips was fucking divine.

  “Jesus, Kim.” I licked my lips. “You feel amazing.”

  She grinned. “So do you.”

  Her breasts bounced in time with her thrusts, and I couldn’t resist cupping them. As I teased her nipples again, she closed her eyes and exhaled, her rhythm faltering for a second before she recovered and ground even harder. Not hard enough to be painful, but teetering right there on that fine line between perfect and too much.

  “Oh fuck, baby.” I swept my tongue across my lips. “I’m so . . . I am so gonna come if you . . .”

  She whimpered softly. “Me too. Fuck . . .”

  I closed my eyes and moaned. I was so fucking close, my whole body trembling as cool electricity surged through my veins. So close. So, so close. Right on the edge. Nothing existed but that point of delicious contact, where her pussy rubbed against mine and sent me higher and higher and higher until—

  “Oh fuck!” My eyes flew open, and my back arched off the bed. “Fuck . . .” She didn’t stop, and neither did my orgasm, and I was sure I was going to black out or fall to pieces or . . . or something. I let go of a loud cry, and the neighbors probably heard me, but I didn’t care.

  Kim moaned. Her rhythm fell apart. Then she did. She dug her fingers into my leg, pulling it harder against her hip as if she just needed something to hold on to, and she threw her head back as her whole body trembled above mine.

  We both relaxed. She let my leg slide down, and I drew her down on top of me. Closing my eyes, I stroked her hair, and we just lay there for the longest time, wrapped up in each other while we caught our breath. I was distantly aware of the shitstorm still going on in our professional world, but here in this one, everything was perfect. Warm skin against warm skin, both of us breathing in unison as our hearts slowly came down. It just didn’t get any better than this.

  I had nearly dozed off when Kim murmured, “What’s that sound?”

  “That— Shit! That’s my phone.”

  She lifted herself off me, and I grabbed it from the nightstand.

  I didn’t even need to look at the caller ID. The ringtone said it all.

  “MA2 Marion.”

  “Hey, it’s Alejan— It’s MA1.”

  I winced. “Hey.”

  He cleared his throat. “I pulled some strings. I left a message for Lockhoff, but figured . . . I figured you might see her. If you do, would you tell her she starts at Pass & ID tomorrow morning at 0800? Please?”

  Kim didn’t answer to me, so this was definitely outside of protocol, but I knew Alejandro. This was I want you to know I did what I could wrapped up in professionalism.

  I wrapped my arm around Kim’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Thanks. I’ll pass the message along.”

  “Here’s your new ID.” I slid the warm laminated card under the window at my Pass & ID station. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you.” The woman—an Air Force wife who’d misplaced her ID—smiled, then got up and left, and I called out the next number in the queue.

  After a week, I pretty much knew the routine. Working in Pass & ID was boring and repetitive, but at least it kept me away from Stanton. His office was back at the precinct on White Beach, while I was a good forty-five minutes away behind a desk on Kadena Air Base.

  That in itself pissed me off. He’d raped me. He’d made this whole thing happen. He was the one who’d done something wrong, but I was the one who had to be pulled off the streets and stuck in the Navy’s version of the DMV.

  Of course, it had been somewhat inevitable. I was pregnant. Light duty was part of the game. And, hell, I’d take any physical distance I could get from Stanton.

  The clerk beside me called out, “Number thirty-six.”

  While I processed yet another dependent who’d lost her ID card, I glanced past her at the people waiting. A woman sitting at the end of a row of chairs looked at her number. Then she leaned over to another woman and held up her ticket. As I watched, they traded numbers.

  “Number thirty-seven, please.”

  The other woman got up and headed over to the window. That was . . . weird.

  As the other clerks and I continued to process people, the woman continued swapping her ticket with people sitting around her. What the hell? Was she really that hard up for daytime entertainment that she needed to wait an extra forty minutes just so she could watch the end of Maury on the communal television?

  I finished processing the lost ID card, and after that person had gone, I called out, “Number forty-one, please.”

  The woman who’d been trading numbers with everyone stood and made her way to the chair in front of my window.

  My chest tightened. What the hell was going on? I didn’t recognize her, so I didn’t think she was someone coming back to have me fix something I’d screwed up.

  She sat down and folded her hands on top of the Coach bag in her lap.

  I gulped. “How may I help you?”

  “You’re MA3 Lockhoff, yes?”

  As if she couldn’t read my name tape and the chevrons on my collar, but I nodded anyway.

  She sat up straighter, her cheeks tensing as she clenched her teeth. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Um, okay?”

  She looked me right in the eye. “My name is Susan Stanton.”

  My stomach flipped. I should’ve known she was an officer’s wife. They had a certain air about them that the enlisted wives didn’t usually have.

  “Um. I see.” I swallowed. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Stanton?”

  “I’m assuming you’re familiar with my husband.”

  A bit too familiar.“Yes.”

  “And you may or may not know he has two years left before he retires.”

  And thank God for that.

  “Uh . . .”

  She set her jaw. “I understand you’re considering filing . . .” She glanced back and forth, then lowered her voice. “That you’re considering filing ‘charges’ against him.”

  He’d fessed up to the wife? That
was surprising.

  “Well, if you know about that, then you know what happened.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “I know that an entitled little whore slept with my husband.”

  Of course you do. “And that she’s having his baby?”

  Susan stiffened, and through taut lips, she muttered, “Yes. I’m aware of that.”

  “Then I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I want you to tell me why on earth you want the whole world to believe he raped you.”

  I held her gaze. “Because he did.”

  Her head tilted just so, her eyes narrowed. It was probably the look she gave her kids when they were feeding her bullshit. I felt like a prisoner visited by someone on the outside, listening to the well-dressed lady tell me how my choices and actions were affecting everyone else. How I was hurting people and making their lives hell and had no one to blame but myself while I sat here behind the glass in my uniform.

  “Do you want the whole story?” I kept my voice low. “Because I’m pretty sure he didn’t give you all the details.”

  “No, I do not,” she growled. “But you are going to ruin our family’s life.”

  “What about my life?” I snapped back.

  She sighed heavily and did that impatient head-tilt again. “Listen, sweetheart. You made a mistake. Plenty of girls in the military do the same thing. But one time doesn’t make you a tramp. People will forget.” Her eyes narrowed. “But they won’t forget when you accuse someone of being a rapist just to cover your own tracks.”

  My mouth fell open. “What? You think I’m just doing this so people don’t think I’m a slut?”

  Her lips tightened, and one pencil-thin eyebrow arched. “I think that ship has already sailed.”

  “Then why would I bother making up—”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” She leaned closer to the window. “But I would suggest you reconsider.”

  “Your husband has already suggested that. Did you know he threatened me?”

  She laughed dryly. “Oh, darling. Aren’t you familiar with the saying ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?”

  I clenched my teeth. God knew what Stanton had told her. In his mind, I’d probably dragged him from the party and seduced him.