by B. B. Hamel
I worry about him sometimes. I don’t know what he’s going to grow up to become. I don’t know if I want him to be like me, an ex-SEAL drifting through his days with only one important thing. My entire life was back in the military, but now that I’m out, I don’t know what I am.
It’s a hard question to ask myself. I want to set a good example for Noah. I want to make him a man that I’d be proud of. I want him to be smart, kind, gentle, but still strong and confident. I worry that I’m too rough, too broken.
Being around Mia, though, she makes me want to be better. Noah forced me to grow up and become a father, but Mia makes me want to strive for even more than just being a good father. Sometimes, I’m a little embarrassed that I’m thirty years old and living at home with my stepmother.
She understands why I am, though. She knows that I just got back from the war, and I’m trying to find my footing. Plus, raising a kid is really hard as hell, and I need help. Living with Alice is the perfect arrangement.
But I know it’s not permanent. I want more. I want my own place, my own business. I want it for Mia, to impress her and make her see what kind of man I am, but I also want it for Noah. I want to set a great example for him.
I spend the rest of the day like that, wandering the preserve and showing Noah things. He only cries twice, once to let me know that he needed to be changed, and another time because he was hungry.
We spend about three hours in the preserve. I walk around for about two of them, and for an hour we sit in the shade of a huge tree and I let Noah play with some toys while I make my lunch. It’s after his naptime and getting close to his dinnertime, which means I better hurry home before he gets cranky.
Besides, it’s five o’clock and I’m guessing Mia gets off work right around now. I pack the things up and strap Noah in before standing and heading back toward the front office.
I feel damn good as I approach. The trail leads down a hill and I can see the parking lot in the near distance. I feel like I had a good afternoon with my son, played with him, taught him some things, but I also got a chance to get away from everything and just think about my life. I feel like I’m finally getting my shit together and figuring out what I want to do with myself.
That’s such an important feeling. It’s something you lose when you come back from the military. When I was a SEAL, I had a purpose every single day and I never had to worry if I was doing the right thing. I was told what to do and when to do it, and I followed my orders to the best of my ability. I was damn good, and that made my life so much more rewarding. But outside of the structure of the military, I have to define my own life, my own desires, and figure out how to give myself meaning and purpose.
Noah is one way. Mia is maybe another. I want both of those things, and I can see, just briefly in the deep region of my mind’s eye, the man that I can become if I follow that path.
But that image disappears and I’m drawn up short as I catch sight of Mia stepping into the parking lot. She looks beautiful, so fucking gorgeous, and I want to yell her name.
I don’t, though. Something stops me. I don’t know what it is, but I have a bad feeling in my stomach, like I should turn away. Like I shouldn’t be seeing this.
I watch as an expensive-looking black sedan drives up the gravel road and pulls up in front of Mia. It parks and she stands there, a strange look on her face. The driver’s door opens, and Caleb Carter steps out.
I feel like I’m going to fucking puke. I watch with horror as he opens the door for Mia and she climbs into his car. He walks back around to the other side, gets in, and they drive away together.
I stare after the car, not sure what the fuck just happened. Why the hell would Mia get into the car with Caleb Carter? She hates that fucking creep. I got into a fight with that piece of shit because of how much of an asshole he is. She talked about how much he scares her, and how much she despises him, and yet there she is, climbing into his car. What the hell is happening?
I walk slowly toward the lot. The day suddenly feels darker. All of the joy is sucked out of me, and the future suddenly shifts. I thought I was becoming one thing, but suddenly I’m afraid I’m going to become something else.
Rage flows through me. The sickness I felt at first is replaced by an incredible and powerful anger that I haven’t felt since the war. Fear, terror, and blind hatred all mingle into this unfathomable rage.
I don’t think. I put Noah back into his car seat, making sure he’s safe, before starting my truck’s engine and pulling out.
The plan forms itself loosely in my mind. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help myself. I know where the Carters live, everyone in town does. Their house is this enormous fucking mansion right in the heart of downtown. It’s a stupid and ostentatious display of their wealth, and it’s not far from here.
I don’t let myself think about what I’m doing. I stop off at home, bring Noah inside, and give him to Alice. I’m happy she’s home early from the flower shop.
“What’s going on?” she asks me, noting the look on my face.
“I’ll be back.”
She frowns. “Lucas? What’s wrong?”
“Just watch him,” I say. “I’ll be back.”
The anger inside of me won’t let me turn away. I’m a goddamn slave to it, and I know it. I can’t deny the facts in front of me. I’m going to do something fucking stupid, all because I hate these bastards and feel a righteous rage I can barely describe. I leave my house and my son, and I know Alice is scared for me, but I don’t care. I get back into my truck and I drive.
About ten minutes later, seething the whole ride, stewing in my anger, I finally arrive at the Carter house. I drive around the block, giving myself a moment to back out, but I don’t. I’m not a fucking coward or the type of man to back down.
I park the truck two blocks away. I reach into my glove compartment and grab my gun, slipping it into my jeans, before climbing out and walking toward the Carter house.
There aren’t many people around on this block. It’s a nice neighborhood, really nice, one of those rich and quiet places that you only ever get to drive through briefly. I can’t even imagine the kind of life the people in these houses lead. They’re like little kings in their mansions looking down at the rest of us, laughing at how pathetic we are, at how we struggle. I hate them, every single one of them. I want to tear them from their homes and give their money to people that really deserve it.
The house is surrounded by a stone wall. There’s no barbed wire or anything on top, and it’s pretty damn easy to climb up and over it, landing softly and moving stealthily through the beautifully landscaped outside. I move around, keeping close to the wall. I don’t see any cameras or anything like that, which doesn’t surprise me.
These people feel no fear. Nobody in this town would dare mess with them. They’re the Carters, after all. They employ so many people in this town that they practically own it.
I crouch down near a large bush, looking at their driveway. There are two cars parked there, one is a bright red spots car, and the other is a classic Ford truck, clearly an expensive restored model.
I reach back and clutch the gun tucked into my pants there, but suddenly I stop.
I’m not in a war anymore. And I have a son. If I do something too crazy, I might go to jail and Noah will be left with nothing. I was just thinking about becoming a better man and leaving my violent ways behind me. What am I even doing here, anyway? Do I really think I’m going to kill Caleb Carter?
I release the gun, and some of the anger drains away.
Of course I’m not going to. Fucking hell, I can’t kill someone like this. Maybe he deserves it, but I’m not a murderer or an assassin.
But he is a piece of shit, and he should pay.
I reach into my pocket and slide out my knife. I flip it open, eyeing his car, and grin.
I sneak across the driveway, keeping low, and slash each of the tires. They leak air with a satisfying sound and I laugh to myself.
This is better than killing Caleb. This sends a message. And as far as I can tell, nobody can see me doing it.
I finish slashing his tires and then I get out of there. I don’t linger. I head back the way I came, hop the wall, and stroll back to my truck.
Once inside, I put my gun away and lean back in my seat.
For a second, I thought I was really going to hurt someone. Instead, I slashed that fucker’s tires. Still a little crazy, but not violent or dangerous like I initially intended.
I’m a father now. I have to be better. I can’t let my rage get the best of me anymore. I remember Mia’s words the night that I nearly got killed fighting those five guys, and although I feel betrayed and angry with her, I know she’s right.
I’m a goddamn father now. I can’t be acting like an asshole and getting into fights and doing violent things.
I have to be better. I start my engine. I don’t know what Mia is doing with Caleb, but she’s right about that much at least. I’m going to be better, at least for Noah’s sake.
18
Mia
I hate myself for this.
I feel like everyone is staring at us. They probably are. Caleb smiles at me from across the table and reaches out, taking my hand.
“Aren’t you glad you did this?” he asks me.
I nod a little, but inside my hand feels like it’s on fire where he’s touching it. I look away, down at the floor.
I’m still wearing my work uniform. We’re at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, and although there’s usually an unspoken dress code, they clearly will let Caleb get away with anything he wants. We’re seated in a corner booth, probably the best spot in the whole place, and Caleb ordered us both a glass of wine.
He’s trying to impress me, that much is obvious. He keeps talking about his father’s investments, how they own a stake in this restaurant, how Caleb can come here practically whenever he wants. And apparently, now I can too.
“We own this town now, you know?” he says, grinning at me. “Coming with me, that means you own it, too.”
“That’s nice,” I say, a little distant.
“My father worked very hard to build his empire, and I’m going to expand it. Do you know how hard it is these days to get building permits? So many regulations by the government.” He makes a face. “Idiots think they can help poor people, but you and I know the truth.”
“What truth?” I ask, trying to avoid his gaze. I sip my wine just for something to do.
“Poor people are lazy and worthless. They wouldn’t be so poor if they just worked harder, just like I do.”
I practically gag on my drink. There’s no way this guy has ever worked a day in his life. He has everything given to him. His father is going to give him all the money he ever needs. He’ll start out with so much more and never need to work nearly as hard as those that start out with less.
People like him make me sick.
“What’s the matter?” he asks suddenly.
I realize I must be making some kind of face, so I quickly calm myself. “Nothing,” I say.
“It’s the wine.” He grunts a little. “Waitress!” He flags her down. She walks over, looking a little nervous.
“How is everything. Mr. Carter?”
“This wine, it’s absolute garbage. Please dump the rest of that bottle out and bring us the…” He checks the menu. “The Chateaux ’78, please.”
I glance at the menu. He clearly just chose the most expensive bottle.
“Right away,” she says, and quickly flees before he can do anything else.
“The wine is fine,” I say to him softly, as if from a distance.
“No, it’s trash, please stop drinking it.” He reaches across the table and takes the glass from me quickly. “Anyway, where was I?”
“Owning the town,” I say.
He laughs and launches back into his monologue about destroying regulation and environmental protections in order to keep growing his father’s business.
I don’t say anything for the rest of the meal. I let him rant on and on. Sometimes I make little gestures and noises to indicate that I’m listening, but I can’t engage with him. Everything he says is offensive and morally bankrupt to me.
I don’t know what I’m doing here with this man. He says he’s going to pay for my father’s medical bills, but I’m not sure I even believe him anymore. And based on the way he’s talking, I’m starting to suspect he’s going to destroy the preserve anyway, or at least he’s going to try.
My mind drifts back to Lucas, even though I don’t want it to. I want to stay focused here and forget about what could have been. I made my choice. Lucas tried calling me earlier today, but I just ignored him. I can’t talk to him if I’m going down this path. If I’m going to whore myself out for the things that I love, I need to keep him far away.
He deserves better. Lucas is a good man, even if he has some troubles in his past. He’s trying his best for his family and getting his shit together after the war is clearly hard for him. But he’s trying and I admire him too much to let him get involved with a person like me.
He deserves so much better and I think we both know it.
Soon, the meal comes, and that’s a good distraction. Caleb eventually turns to talking about gossip, chatting about our classmates, making fun of those who went off to college. Caleb doesn’t think he needs college because he has his father’s business to fall back on. I decide not to say anything about that as the meal progresses.
The food is good, but I can barely taste it. Everything seems bland and colorless. Even the wine, which is expensive as hell and should be amazing, just tastes like alcohol to me. I sip it just because he wants me to, but I don’t enjoy anything at all. I feel like all the joy was sucked out of me the moment I stepped into his car.
Eventually, the meal ends, and he insists we go for a walk around the block. It’s a nice night out, and a lot of people are wandering. I try to get out of it by saying that the nurse is going to get off work soon and I need to go home for my father, but he waves me away and says he already sent a replacement.
“Come on, I want to show you off.” He takes my hand and I let him, though I don’t want him to show me off. I’m embarrassed to be seen with him.
“You’re my trophy now, you know that?” he asks. “You’re the woman I need. In business, you need to have a respectable life, and one aspect of that is to have a respectable wife. You’re perfect for that.”
Chills run down my spine. “Wife?” I ask him.
He laughs a little. “Maybe too early to talk about that, of course. But think about it. You’re smart and beautiful. You’d do well in my world, and you would be a big asset to me. Maybe we’re not madly in love, but what’s that matter? We can have an arrangement of some sort.” He grins at me, a little disgusting.
“An arrangement,” I repeat as we walk down the block.
“Of course. We’ll have children, but our relationship doesn’t need to be romantic. We can maybe…” He trails off, but I know where he’s going with this.
It sounds like a living nightmare. I can see myself slowly dying inside as I’m stuck in a loveless marriage with this psychopath, stuck doing his bidding as I raise my children. I’ll be stuck if I ever have children with him, but I can see it all happening, everything he says. He’ll take care of my father for me, and I’ll be his little housewife as he goes around fucking whoever he wants.
It’s a nightmare. A waking nightmare. One that I can see myself getting into if I just keep following this path.
My life would be easy. He’d take care of everything. He’d pay for my father, maybe even keep the preserve safe. I’d be able to buy things, be comfortable, maybe even have some freedom of my own. But I’d have to have his children, live in his world, sacrifice for him.
I don’t know what I want from life, but I know that’s now it.
We come up to a small little park set off to the side, basically a little memoria
l for civil war veterans. He leads me in there, over toward a bench, and we sit down.
“This can all be ours one day,” he says to me.
“I don’t know.” I stare at him, uncertain.
“It’s very fast. I understand. You need time to really let it sink in. But listen, Mia, if you want to be my wife, we can have a great life together. I’ll take care of you.”
I bite my lip and look at the ground. He sounds almost normal right now, but his rant at dinner comes back to me. He’s rotten at the core and I know it.
He leans toward me and my heart flutters and flips with fear. He wants to kiss me, I can see it in his eyes and the tilt of his head. For a second, the image of him kissing me passes through my mind, and it just makes me sick.
I pull away. I quickly stand up and step away from him.
“Mia,” he says, standing up. “What are you doing?”
“Caleb—“
“Do you understand our arrangement?” he asks me, eyes narrowing, coming toward me. We’re alone in this park and I’m suddenly afraid. I see that look in his eyes, the same one from the preserve when he snapped that stick and scared me so much.
“I do, but—“
“But nothing,” he says angrily. “You’re mine now. You want me to take care of your father? Save your precious little preserve?”
“Yes,” I say in a small voice.
“Then if I want to kiss you, I will kiss you. Do you understand?”
I stare at him, fear rolling through me. “No,” I say.
“No?” He cocks his head. “No? That’s not the right answer.”
“No,” I say again, more forcefully.
That’s when it happens. That’s when his mask falls off, replaced by a visage of total horror and anger. He grabs my shoulders and throws me down violently, slamming me into the ground.
I don’t feel any pain. It’s just numb horror. I curl into a ball, covering my head, waiting for the blows to start raining down on my head. He’s going to beat me to death right here because I defied him, and there’s nothing I can do.
