Big Daddy SEAL

by Mickey Miller

  We mostly avoided the hard stuff— why I left, and what she was doing with bikers to begin with. The real world threatened to crash down around us like a driving rainstorm, but as long as we kept up our umbrella of light and hopeful conversation it couldn't touch us.

  I wondered how long we could keep it up before one of us finally cracked and demanded answers. I doubted it would be long. The thought of that biker slapping her made my knuckles itch.

  She did most of the talking right up to when we arrived at the tucked-away lake, but I didn't mind. I'd forgotten how much I loved the sound of her golden honey voice. I could listen to her forever.

  It had always been like that though.

  We walked along the bank, listening to the cicadas and the wind. The temperature had dropped just enough to be borderline chilly. She was only wearing jeans and a T shirt. I noticed her spine ripple with a chill and I cursed myself for not bringing my leather jacket to drape over her.

  “Does Lucky Luke have any shows lined up, now that he's back?”

  “One, yeah. Over at the Family Room this Friday. Why?” I asked slyly. “You interested in going?”

  “Maybe.” She tossed me a tattered half smile. She was trying her best to keep up with our game of being different people, but we both kept slipping up. It was a nice fantasy though. I really liked the idea of a fresh start with her.

  “You should go. I know the guitarist is a total douche, but I hear he knows how to play.”

  Molly laughed, then looked around. “I think I remember this place.”

  “You used to read to me out here, you remember?” It was one of my favorite things in the world. I stepped behind her and rubbed some warmth into her arms. The shampoo of her soft brown hair filled me with nostalgia.

  Whenever some blogger would ask me about inspiration for my songs I'd tell them the same story. “A good story, a soothing voice and the kiss of warm afternoon sun was all I needed.”

  It wasn't the full truth, but that was the point. The real truth was private. It belonged only to Molly and I. It was a precious memory that would lose some of its magic if I ever told anyone about it.

  “I do,” Molly said wistfully, looking out at the black, shining lake. The moon had slipped out from behind a cloud generously lighting her face for me. The cool tones made her skin look as smooth as porcelain.

  For a second I worried that this was all a dream. Nothing was ever this perfect.

  “You'd sit in the shade of one of those trees,” I pointed up past the stump of a tree that'd been struck by lightening long before our time. “I'd lay my head on your lap, close my eyes and listen to stories by Emily Brontë and Jane Eyre.”

  “Jane Eyre wasn't an author,” She chided me like the librarian she was. “It was the name of a book by Charlotte Brontë, Emily's sister.”

  I shrugged. I wasn't much for books in general. Maybe she ruined them for me. The voice in my head could never compare with the sound of her reading to me.

  “Half the time I thought you were asleep,” Molly continued, breaking away from me and the bank, and making her way up to the stump. She sat down.

  “But you kept reading.” I began searching the bark on trees I passed, but I couldn't find what I was looking for. God, it had been so long. It probably wasn't here anymore.

  There was no way...

  “I thought you might be able to hear me in your dreams.” Her voice became a near whisper as she finished the sentence.

  Her words stopped me dead in my tracks. My resolve began to crack. I looked back at her, trying to keep it together. There was a tidal wave of emotion washing over me. If only she knew how much I thought about her.

  “You were right.” I heard you in my dreams for ten agonizingly long years.

  The pressure on my heart and soul had been building since the moment I first saw her again. She still wore my bracelet, even now. That had to mean something right?

  “Are you still married?” I winced as the words came out, but I had to know.

  I shouldn't have brought her back here. This was all too goddamn painful.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  “What happened to Elmo?” Molly looked at me warily. She was definitely trying to stay out of the hard rain that was about to fall, shielded safely under her umbrella of fantasy. If we didn't talk about any of it, then we wouldn't be soaked to our bones with guilt and regret.

  “Fuck Elmo,” I replied harsher than I wanted. That pressure inside me boiled over. I thought I could pretend, but with her so close I couldn’t bare it any longer.

  I watched her face drop as I shattered the fantasy that we were just old friends out for a walk down memory lane. Molly crossed her arms and turned her back to me.

  Dammit!

  How did Richard do it?

  How could he put his emotions in a box like a fucking robot while I always wore mine on my sleeve? That was the only thing he had that I was envious of; the ability to not be passionate.

  All passion ever did was hurt the ones I loved.

  “I'm sorry. I'm a fucking mess, Moll.”

  “No.” Molly snapped back around, her voice took on a ragged edge to it. She was suppressing an urge to cry. “You don't get to just ride in here and fuck with my life because you're a mess. That's bullshit!”

  “One for one?” I took a few steps closer. One for one was a game we used to play. We did it when we were young and shy about what we wanted. I ask a question, then she asks a question, or vice versa. It was basically Truth or Dare without the Dare.

  It's how I found out she was terrified of albino cats and how she found out I hated the sound of damp fingers down the side of an inflated balloon. As we grew into two horny teens One for One got a hell of a lot steamier.

  Now as adults the game was going to change again. It would never be enough, but maybe knowing one thing about the other person might help a little.

  Molly's puffy pink lips pressed together in a tight line as she considered it. Even behind her glasses, I could see the ache in her eyes. She wanted everything to be like it was between us, but knew that was just a dream.

  “Do you have any idea how long I waited for you?” Molly threw her hands up. “I waited and waited and fucking waited! Not a word from you until now?”

  “I'm a bastard.”

  “You're goddamn right, you're—”

  “No, Molly. A bastard.” I ran a hand over my head, brushing my chin-length hair out of my face. “My perfect mother had a one night stand with some musician from Tennessee during a real low point in my parent’s marriage.” I spread my arms out. “And I'm the result.”

  “What? No...” Molly's stopped and gaped, not knowing what to really do with that bombshell. Eventually she filled the silence by saying, “I'm sorry to hear that. What does that mean exactly? You’re not a King?”

  “Not biologically, no. Will, Richard's dad adopted me when he found out about the whole thing. I guess they were able to keep everything quiet, but it was messy. Real messy..”

  Molly wrapped herself tightly with her arms and stayed quiet for far too long. “Is that why you left me?”

  “I didn’t know I was adopted until I was seventeen. I found out in the car ride over to the airport.” I paused. I’d never told anyone this story before. It was hard to hear the words out loud. “I never left you, Moll. I was taken.”

  “Jesus... By who?” She sounded horrified.

  “One for one.” It was my turn to ask a question, besides I'd already said too much. She could do so much damage to my family with the information I just told her. “Are you still married?”

  Molly sighed heavily. “Yes.”

  I slumped against a tree, idly rubbing my hand against the rough bark. What was I hoping for?

  Finally my fingers brushed across something cool and smooth. I snapped my eyes down and confirmed that it was what I was looking for. I crouched down and cleared away the brush.

  Holy shit! It was still here!

  “Moll, y
ou have to see this.” I pulled out my phone's light and lit the side of the tree.

  Molly walked over slowly, a cautious interest in her dark eyes. What on a tree could possibly be so interesting? Some sort of carving maybe?

  “When they forced me to leave Caldwell Hope, I wasn't allowed to bring anything identifiable. I had no idea what was going to happen to me so I took the only thing that ever mattered to me and I hid it out here.”

  It took a good amount of effort, but I was eventually able to wriggle the charm free. The branch that held the bracelet had grown in the years I was away and stretched out the bracelet. It was too big for even my wrist, but that was fine. I only cared about the heart pendent.

  I grabbed her wrist, my thumb rubbed across the bracelet charm I'd given her so long ago. Her skin was butter silk and made my fingertips tremble. She didn't pull away.

  “I was going to come back for it, but then I heard you were married and the thought of seeing it again was too painful.” It was difficult, but I forced myself to look up at her. Her glasses shined brilliantly in the moonlight and made her eyes agonizingly unreadable.

  “I'm— I'm trying to get a divorce,” Molly said, reluctantly. “I was trying to convince Jason to sign the paperwork, but... well. You saw how that went earlier tonight.”

  “That was your husband!” I was now even more furious with that biker scumbag. I should've stayed and put that motherfucker in the hospital!

  A husband should protect their wife not hurt them.

  “There were good times too.” She turned and the light refracted away so that I could see her eyes. They were full to the brim with tears that were just waiting to fall. It made me feel horrible for shouting at her.

  “I'm sorry.” I stood up and thumbed the first rolling tear off her cheek. “You deserve better, that's all.”

  “That was the only time he’d ever laid a hand on me. He was drunk.”

  “That doesn’t make it OK, Molly.”

  “I know.” She lowered her head and I pulled her in for a tight hug.

  It felt like I had been on fire for as long as I could remember and she was a fire extinguisher. Her skin was warm, despite the light chill. Having her that close again lifted a massive weight from my heart.

  She shivered against me, but I knew it wasn't from the cold breeze rolling off the water. Something clicked inside of me, I took her face in my hand and I kissed her.

  I refused to waste any more of our lives.

  Her lips mashed into mine messily. We were groping teenagers again; embracing each other like every breath was our last. It all felt so natural, so right. She was the woman of my dreams and I was her long lost love.

  Not even Disney could write our love story.

  Then she tore herself away and it all came crashing down.

  “Take me home,” Molly said sullenly, stepping backward with the deliberate lack of cheer that a funeral procession might have.

  “Go? I thought we—” I started.

  “You were wrong. This was a mistake.”

  “You're still wearing the bracelet though...” I stepped forward and she kept pace, staying out of my reach. “I don't understand?”

  Molly sighed, running both hands through her hair.

  “I don't wear it as a reminder of how much I loved you. I feel that every day. I know how much I still love you. I wear it as a reminder of the pain I never want to feel again. It doesn't matter that I'm now single. I can't trust you, Luke. You're just going to break my heart like you did before.”

  “Molly—” I protested.

  “I promised myself I'd never let anyone hurt me again.” Molly pinched the heart charm between her fingers tightly enough to turn her fingers white. “Especially not you.”

  Richard

  Twelve

  “Morning, criminal.” Gloria smiled, she was sitting on one of two benches just outside the police station when I walked out. She had two blessed cups of black heaven, one in either hand.

  She was the last person I expected to see this morning.

  Gloria wore upper-thigh length, fashionably ripped shorts, a gray tank top and a sleeveless denim over-shirt without buttons. She tapped the ground with her dark flats, stood up, and handed me a coffee.

  “You're a life saver,” I said.

  “Least I can do. I saw them tow your car and figured you might need a ride out of here.”

  “I can call for a driver.” I said between warm sips of coffee. With a little caffeine in me I almost felt human again. “I don't want to keep you from the Rocket.”

  “No such luck, I'm afraid.” Gloria shrugged and started for her car in the larger-than-necessary parking lot. “You happened to get arrested before my one day off a week.” She lowered her oversized sunglasses and flashed me a look that said she liked what she saw, but also understood I wasn't at my finest either. “Shower or food first?”

  “Shower. Definitely shower.” I wasn't expecting a Ritz-Carlton, but the holding cell's mattress stank of almost every fluid a human could secrete. I chose to sit in the metal chair for the night instead. That stank much less.

  I needed to burn these clothes.

  Gloria drove me back to the guest house I inhabited at the base of my father's estate.

  “Fancy.” She whistled, walking into the three level stucco and stone guest house behind me.

  “It's alright.” I peeled off my ruined over and under shirts, casually tossing them on the floor near the trash can.

  “Are you hungry?” Gloria asked, dragging a hand over the polished marble counter top. Her eyes licked up my naked torso. My broad chest and abs were still bulging from the sets of push ups and sit ups I did in the holding cell.

  When there was no chance of sleep it was the only way to keep myself occupied.

  “I could eat.” My eyes returned the favor, dragged down her petite form and milky exposed legs. I was hungry. The last thing I'd eaten was her. It didn't fill me up, but it sure as hell was satisfying.

  Deciding against letting my cock fully wake until I'd at least taken a shower, I thought of all the colors and smells coming out of the cell's backed-up toilet.

  That killed my hard on immediately.

  I'd have to remember that particular horror show if I was going to be spending any more time Gloria in public.

  I was arrested at the worst possible time. We were so close to actually having sex that it frustrated the hell out of my body. One way or another I needed to vent this pent up sexual frustration.

  I used my time in the shower to both clean up and get myself off. I was finding it harder and harder to think straight with Gloria around. The water streamed over me as I stroked my thick cock. In the privacy of the shower I was free to remember everything I'd forced out of my head in jail.

  I had to slam a palm up against the wall to keep my strength through the fantasy. Gloria's smooth thighs were split over my shoulders and the warm, wonderful taste of her pussy in my mouth. I imagined what it'd be like to slip my swollen head inside those tight lower lips of hers and fuck her till she couldn't walk.

  I came soon after.

  Drying myself off, I struggled coming to a decision about Gloria. I dressed in thin khakis and a linen shirt—something light and breezy for summer—and began to plan.

  I liked to plan things out. I liked control in all things. When I had a clear path to what I wanted everything in my life made sense.

  I wanted to win the inheritance, more than that... I wanted to crush my brother. I would figure out a way to get him back for what he did to me, but to really win I'd have to get a girl pregnant.

  That was the real problem.

  I wanted to be a father...eventually. But it would have to be with the right woman, a woman I truly cared about. For as much as I wanted to win, the thought of bringing a child into the world out of obligation instead of love made me feel hollow and sick inside.

  Then again, the clock was ticking. If something happened to Dad, we’d both lose everything. It wa
s too dark a thought to dwell on for long.

  Dammit, Dad.

  Why did you do this?

  I bedded whoever I wanted without risk or attachment, easily moving from woman to woman. I did it all on my own terms, in full control.

  I liked my life!

  Feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to change anything.

  The first step was to find a woman who wanted kids. Unfortunately that eliminated Gloria right off the bat. My heart sank a little. Gloria was just a pleasant distraction, one I'd have to get rid of if I wanted to seriously beat Lucas.

  I walked into the kitchen fully dressed; swabbing the last bit of water out of my ears with a small towel I kept on my shoulder. I could smell that Gloria was cooking something, maybe even several somethings. When I finally turned the corner I saw that the counter top, stove and sink were full of pots, pans, dishes and utensils.

  Had she used every piece of cookware I had?

  “Hey,” she said, looking a bit flustered. “I started making some eggs, but I think your stupid oven is busted.”

  “It's just unplugged,” I laughed. “All of this was for eggs?”

  “That's what it started as. Then I looked up a quick recipe to make in the microwave, but that came out like garbage.” Gloria had the water running and was washing some of the messy dishes. “I just said the hell with it and ordered some food through the Foodler app on my phone.”

  I laughed again, walking over to give her a hand cleaning up. “You didn't have to make anything.”

  “I'm usually a good cook!” She protested “I just—I don't know what happened. I blame your kitchen. I think it hates me.”

  “You're probably right. It hates me too.” I rolled up my sleeves, stood next to her and took a large glass casserole dish into the empty sink. Her shoulder brushed against my elbow, and sent goosebumps up my arm. I swallowed away the notion that forgetting about Gloria would be easy. “So what's for breakfast?”

  “I hope up you like Chinese food.” Her smirk had a tinge of self-consciousness about it. It was actually kind of cute. “I couldn't find any diners that delivered.”