Trap: A Salvation Society Novel

by Jennifer Rebecca

  “Kiss me,” she orders when I pull back, and I touch my lips to hers one more time.

  “I’ll be waiting,” I promise.

  “Have a safe flight to Virginia,” she says as she picks up her helmet bag from the ground.

  “You too,” I reply with a wink, making her smile.

  She turns to walk away, and then she looks back at me. I know she wants to say something, and I wonder if it could be that she’s ready to share her feelings with me. That she loves me like I’ve been loving her the whole fucking time. But instead, she hesitates and asks, “Think of me?”

  “Every fucking minute of every day.”

  MacKenzie nods once and then walks toward her plane. She doesn’t look back again. This time, she’s in full work mode, and it’s sexy as hell to see how confident she is as she checks over her plane one last time and climbs in.

  Some of the wives cry and sniffle; some are seasoned pros and stand sad but stoic as they watch their partners leave one more time. I grip the chain link in my hands and watch with them as the hatches close, and one by one they start their engines and take off.

  When the last plane is out of sight, I let go of the fence and make my way back to my truck. I climb in and head to the airport to catch my flight to the east coast. I have a lot of work to do to establish our dual-coast life over the next nine months. And I do it all with a nervous pit in my stomach that I’ve never felt before. Sure, I know it’s a dangerous job; I had one of the most dangerous that the armed forces offer, and it never bothered me. But there’s something about knowing that if shit happens, this could have been the very last time I’ll ever see her alive.

  She was right. Being on this side of the leaving is a lot harder than it looks. But I got this. We’ve got this. I know it.

  Chapter Twelve

  MacKenzie

  Payphone

  I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and there’s more sand in places on my body than if I’d spent a week camping at the beach. But when the video chat connects, there’s a wide smile on my exhausted face. And a little sand in my teeth.

  “Hey, baby,” Kyle says when his end connects.

  “Hey,” I reply shyly. I tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen from my French braid behind my ear.

  “You look beautiful,” he tells me, and I can hear the snickers of the guys in his office. My blush heats my cheeks.

  “No I don’t.” I laugh. I’m in a khaki PT shirt and shorts. I just finished working out with Cinco and Hooter when my time slot was called. I’m sweaty and disgusting. It’s anything but beautiful.

  “You look beautiful to me.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him as I brush a messy lock of hair back from my face. It’s being unruly. The dry heat is doing weird things to my skin and hair.

  Catcalls and whistles sound somewhere behind him out of view of the camera, and I laugh while Kyle rolls his eyes. They may not be military men anymore, but they have the same old die hard habits. I know that the guys will be waiting to give me shit about my skype date when I meet them in the chow hall later.

  “I take it you’re still at work.”

  “Yeah.” He laughs. “You mean you could hear the Neanderthals in the background?”

  “Hey, Mack!” Sean says, popping up from behind him, and waving like a lunatic over Kyle’s shoulder.

  “Hi!” I laugh. I miss these guys. The friendship between Kyle and Sean is ridiculous and I love it.

  “Would you get out of here so I can talk to my girl?” Kyle chuckles as he shoves the big teddy bear out of the way.

  “No,” the gentle giant denies happily.

  “I miss you guys already,” I say, smiling at their antics.

  “That better be me you’re talking about,” Kyle says, still struggling with his friend. They’re like a couple of overgrown schoolboys.

  “No way, you know she knows she should have picked me!” Sean snarks as Kyle finally gets the upper hand, taking him off his feet when he sweeps his legs out from underneath him with his free leg. There’s a lot of wrestling happening in an office building somewhere in Virginia Beach. Who in their right mind would hire these knuckleheads, I don’t know.

  “I miss all of you,” I answer. “But I miss you a lot, Kyle.”

  “I miss you too, baby,” he says quietly. “So damn much.”

  “Hurry up and come home!” Sean shouts from the distance. “He’s turning a little too Gray Gardens for my liking! Next thing we know, he’ll have eighty cats in that house with him.”

  “Fuck off, asshole.” Kyle laughs again but he also doesn’t deny that he’s keeping to himself while I’ve been gone.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “How’s it going?” Kyle asks, suddenly serious.

  “It’s good,” I reply. There's not much I can tell him, and he knows that better than anyone else. Things with Kyle are easier than I thought they would be, because there’s no pressure to explain things that I can’t. He just blanket accepts what I can and can’t talk about, and it takes a huge weight off my shoulders. “It’s quiet. Not much going on.”

  “How are the boys?” I know that he means Cinco and Hooter, my two best friends.

  “Ridiculous.” I laugh. “Cinco has like four women sending him care packages, and none of them know about the others. Hoots is blackmailing him with the info.”

  “What’s he extorting from him?” Kyle asks with a laugh.

  “Cookies. They all send baked goods!” I cackle. “They are soooo good. I need a woman who bakes.”

  “My goodness, Mack,” he asks with feigned shock. “Are you eating another woman’s baked goods?”

  “Yes,” I answer solemnly. “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. That shit better share.”

  “You could send me baked goods,” I tease with a wicked gleam in my eyes, and I can hear the guys in the background crowing with laughter. Fortunately for me, Kyle is confident in himself and our relationship. He can take a little ribbing from time to time. Once upon a time, I had worried that he would be intimidated by being with a strong woman, but he just gets off on it. He loves that I’m strong and independent and thinks it’s sexy as hell.

  “The only cookie I’m interested in is yours,” he says, making me gulp. Oh how quickly he turned my words against me and I squirm in my chair. His knowing smirk shows me that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, the loveable jerk. “And I can wait until you get back to eat it.”

  “Times up, Lone Star!” someone shouts, shaking me free from the erotic image flitting through my mind of Kyle on his knees in front of me while he eats me up.

  “Wow, saved by the bell.” I laugh nervously. I’m awkward as hell and it’s a little embarrassing.

  “Yeah,” he says, but he looks a little, I don’t know… sad. Saying goodbye hasn’t gotten any easier. Whether it’s on skype, on the phone, or over email, it doesn’t matter. Parting isn’t “sweet sorrow” it just sucks.

  “I’ll try to call tomorrow,” I tell him. Even though it’s not a guarantee that we will be able to connect, I still try. I’ll keep trying every day that I can because I realized that Kyle Garrett is different from any other man I’ve dated before. I’m not going to throw away what we have just because I’m scared. I’m going to put in the work and be the partner that he deserves too, I’m going to give back a little bit of what he gives me.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  And then we disconnect, and I move to join the guys for chow.

  It’s been a while. We talk on the phone every other day, but the video chats are limited to twice a month so that everyone can get a chance to use the computers at least once if they want to. I waited, not wanting to take precious time away from those who are married or have kids. But this time was different. Should I have told him how I feel? No. I’m glad I didn’t. I need to wait. I need to tell him in person. And I will when I get home. When we’re in bed. And naked. Not half a world away.

  Coming from a military family, my parents and sibli
ngs all know they will hear from me when I can or, if worst-case scenario happens, a casualty assistance call. It’s a very real possibility.

  This deployment isn’t as hairy as others. We’re not engaging. Our squadron is just flying support for patrols. The likelihood that someone is going to just fall out of the air is few and far between. Not to mention, the air base we’re at is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. I’m probably safer here than I am in the States. And Ryan knows this.

  I’ve always known he uses his position to keep tabs on Amelia and me. He’s the oldest and feels it’s his given right. Amelia is the sister who butts heads with him whenever she feels like he’s crossed some invisible boundary that we all know Ryan is going to tread all over. I, on the other hand, like to go about my business and keep a low profile so that our dear, sweet big brother doesn’t feel like he has to intervene. It’s a win-win situation.

  I should have called Ryan, just to talk for a minute. I should have walked to the payphone and called home just to hear a comforting voice, to tell them I love them and that I’m okay. But I didn’t. I rationalized that Ryan is busy and I didn’t want to worry my mom and dad. They have enough to worry about with all three children grown and serving in the military.

  I should have called them. I should have told them that I loved them. Now I’ll never get the chance. Life’s a bitch and then you die.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kyle

  Same old, same old

  Acid churns in my gut as I sit in a dark SUV and watch my mark.

  MacKenzie need not worry about me stepping out on her whether she’s overseas or stateside, because running some stakeouts to pin down cheating spouses for a local PI while I get my feet wet with Cole Security has done nothing but make me realize how good I have it—not that I had any doubts.

  This couple, for instance, are both cheating on each other, and they’ve both hired the same private investigator to find evidence of the other’s infidelity so they won’t have to pay out the settlement. The husband has a new secretary and the wife a new tennis pro. I can’t imagine being in a relationship like that. On the surface, no one knows they’re splitting up, and behind closed doors they can’t stand each other. I can’t imagine being married and having a side piece. When I was a single man about town, I never stayed in one place long, but I also never committed and strayed. That just doesn’t sit right with me and it never has.

  In fact, since I met MacKenzie, I haven’t noticed another woman, at least not in that way. There’s just something special about her. Whether it’s the slow southern twang she speaks, her intelligent and thoughtful mind, or her legs that go on for miles that call to me, I don’t know. What I do know is it’s not one thing about her; it’s everything. MacKenzie Black is the full package. And I’m beginning to realize she’s the only one for me.

  I raise the camera in my hands and look through the viewfinder. I fiddle with the lens until it all comes into focus and snap a few pictures of the wife and her coach playing a round of naked mixed doubles. I can’t help but cringe. They do not paint a pretty picture. Yikes! I wonder what MacKenzie and I look like when we fuck. Maybe she’ll be up for some mirror play when she gets home, but for now I’m stuck watching horrible people play hide the salami.

  I snap a few more, making sure to zoom in on their faces and some other body parts so it’s clear who they are and what they’re doing, when the passenger door of the SUV snaps open and Sean climbs in with an unhappy look on his face. I can barely hold in my amusement of the situation. I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from laughing outright. Maybe next time, he will think twice about saddling me with the early bullshit legwork when he’s got a hot date with a sure thing and my woman is deployed.

  “This is not funny,” he snaps. He’s mad as hell and I know exactly why. Payback is a bitch, brother.

  “Oh, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” I laugh.

  “Mr. Watkins is into some seriously kinky shit,” he says, still holding onto his disgruntled demeanor. “And not even the fun slap and tickle kind. But the dark kind. And I mean dark.”

  I can’t help it. I can’t hold it in. I throw my head back and laugh. I laugh until tears track down my face and it hurts to breathe. When I finally get a hold of myself, I look over at my friend and lose it all over again. He’s so mad.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp, clutching my belly. “Stop looking at me like that. I can’t take it. I’m dying.”

  “This is your fault,” he pouts like a fucking toddler. A toddler who just so happens to be built like a linebacker for Detroit.

  “No,” I correct him. “This is your fault. It was your turn to do the legwork, and you dumped it on me to go get your dick wet. This is your payback.”

  “Ugh, fine,” he pouts. “Brandi was totally worth it. I’m seeing her again tomorrow night.”

  I smile at him, then raise the camera again and snap a few more pictures.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Dude, don’t be such a girl. I’m fine.” But am I? I’m kind of a moody bastard lately, pining away for my woman who’s far away and out of contact. I don’t miss the dating, the meals eaten in random spots, the bars, or the women who want a quick ride on my dick, I miss her. I miss the way she makes me laugh or the way she lets me hold her late at night or on the beach. I miss the smell of her on my skin and my sheets and the taste of her on my tongue.

  “Is it weird?” he asks. “You know. Not being there.”

  “It kind of is,” I answer. “I’m used to being the one on a mission, focused and out of contact. We were so busy that we didn’t think to call home, and now she’s too busy, and I’m wondering where she is or what she’s doing.”

  He grabs the camera from my hands and flips through the pictures I’ve already taken. He cringes and makes the most ridiculous face, and I can’t help but chuckle again. He’s not wrong, they are not attractive when they fuck.

  “Well, it looks like things are good on your end too,” he says. “Why don’t we go grab a pizza and see if we can catch the last half of the game?”

  “That sounds good,” I answer, putting the car in drive. He’s right. I need to get out and be around people. I’ve been doing nothing but working and then going home to an empty house for the last few weeks. I know he was joking when he told Mack that I was becoming a shut-in while she’s been gone, but he’s also not that far offbase either.

  I pull into the lot of the local restaurant and shut down the car. We climb out and make our way into the small hole-in-the-wall pizza place. It’s family owned and definitely not a chain restaurant.

  The hostess leads us to a booth and hands us a couple of menus, but we don’t need them. We order a large pizza, wings, and a couple of beers and sit back to catch the last bit of a game on the TV that hangs over the bar.

  “So…” he starts when she walks away to put our order in. “Are you really okay?”

  “Aw,” I coo. “You really do care.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” he says rolling his eyes. “I’m serious.”

  I sober instantly. “I know,” I say quietly.”

  He looks away and then looks back to me. “So are you?”

  “Yeah,” I answer seriously. “I think so. But I did need to come out tonight so thank you. You were right.”

  “What was that?” he asks, holding his hand up to cup his ear. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said you were right.”

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Fuck off, asshole,” I say, wadding up my napkin and throwing it at his face. “You know what I said.”

  “Aw, love you too, cupcake.” He laughs.

  “Next, you wanna put Grease 2 on and paint our nails and braid each other’s hair?” I ask in a girl voice.

  The waitress chooses that moment to drop off our dinner and Sean thinks it’s hilarious that she caught me acting like an idiot, but I couldn’t care less. The only woman I give a shit
about is Mack, and she’d think it was hilarious.

  We sit back and shoot the shit for the rest of the basketball game. New York loses again. Afterward, I go home and I feel infinitely better. Tomorrow will be a new day, another day of the same old, same old.

  Chapter Fourteen

  MacKenzie

  On mission

  Free. There’s only one way to describe the way I feel hurtling through the air in an eighty-million-dollar pile of metal and glass, and it’s free.

  As strange as it sounds, there are no pressures, no expectations that weigh heavily on me. Sure, I have a lot riding on the mission, on my squadron, and even me and my skills as a seasoned pilot. People depend on me—pilots, mechanics, marines, even the local people who we try to keep as safe as possible. We’re a team, and every one of the moving parts come together to make the whole successful, and in this case, it means keeping this air base and the area around it safe from the insurgents who want to take it over.

  This air base is just a small piece of the whole pie of this war. Our job is to keep it all safe until the next group comes in to take up the watch. Until then, the responsibility falls on each and every one of us.

  “It looks good, Wood,” I say as I look over the clipboard and sign it. Woody is my favorite of the mechanics at the squadron. He’s about my age and married with two kids at home. He’s kind of quiet until you get to know him and then you realize that he’s funny as hell. There’s also no other mechanic who knows these planes like he does. He decides whether it flies or not, not God.

  “Have a safe flight,” he says to me, tapping the flat of his palm on the side of my plane before he moves along.

  “I always do,” I reply.

  I climb up into my plane, hook up my helmet to the lines, and lock in. I spend the next thirty minutes checking gauges and moving toggles around on the touch screen. That and the information in the helmet visor are some of my favorite parts of the state-of-the-art aircraft. I feel a little like Captain Marvel flying a super spaceship. My little girl warrior heart recognizes just how badass it is and I always take a moment to be thankful for all the blessings in my life because there is so much to be thankful for. My badass job, my family and friends, and Kyle too.