EPILOGUE - Marx Girl
BEN
6 Weeks later. The wedding.
I glance over to Joel. “Do you have the rings?” I ask.
He pats his pocket. “For the tenth time, yes.”
I look up the street, my anxiety rising.
“She’ll be fine,” Joshua offers.
“Yeah, I know.”
“As fine as she can be with two of your baby apes inside of her,” Brock mutters as he fiddles with his cufflinks. “No wonder she’s fucking grumpy.”
I smirk as I continue to look up the street.
I’m standing outside the front of the church with the boys, Joshua, Cameron, and Brock. Rick, Matt, Ethan, and Joel have flown in, but Ally stayed at home as their baby girl is too little to fly.
Today, I officially get to marry my Bridget, and the poor thing happens to be sicker than I have ever seen her..
So much so that this morning I actually asked her to postpone today’s ceremony.
She wouldn’t have a bar of it.
She’s been on her hands and knees throwing up for three weeks, and if I thought she was snarky when she was tired, I didn’t know what was to come. Her morning sickness will be the very death of me.
I’m quite sure she’s plotting my murder. I now sleep with one eye open.
I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, because for Didge, it’s a twenty-four-hour exorcism.
I wish I could do it for her.
It kills me to watch her go through it.
“So, what happened with the dress?” Rick frowns.
I roll my eyes. “Ugh. Where do I start? She bought a wedding dress weeks ago and loved it. But when she tried it on yesterday it didn’t fit around her boobs. She’s grown from the pregnancy, so she went into a complete meltdown.” My eyes find his. “No shit, like, fucking Armageddon.”
Rick and Ethan laugh.
“She was throwing up and Abbie, her nut job friend, was laughing and saying she knew those boobs of hers were going to get her into trouble one day. Tash and Adrian were running around like maniacs screaming at everyone while they were trying to find a dress and shoes at the very last minute.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fucking chaos, I tell you.” I sigh.
Stan widens his eyes. “It was hectic. We went to the gym to hide.”
Rick winces. “Nasty.”
“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” Brock mutters as he dusts off his suit shoulder.
“They’re your sisters,” Stan replies, deadpan. “Only fair you should get the honours.”
“Yeah, well, this is why I’m not getting married. I can’t deal with this shit,” Brock says as he curls his lip before he turns his attention to the American boys. “So, you guys going to come over and work for Marx Security with Joel?”
“I can’t yet. Ally isn’t keen.” Rick frowns. “I’m still working on it.”
“I’m coming.” Ethan smiles.
“Yeah, me, too,” Matt agrees.
“I can’t wait to get over here,” Joel says.
He moves over in a month and I smile. It’s going to be so good working with my friends and showing them around Australia without having army duties to worry about. We’re finally going to have some fun.
That’s if Bridget stops fucking throwing up.
“How many do you have working for you now?” Ethan asks.
“I’ve got six guys. Jesten starts next week, and then with you three it will make ten of us,” Brock informs us.
“Ugh.” Joshua groans. “I still can’t believe you hired that fucking idiot.”
“He’s good at what he does,” Brock argues.
I smirk. Stan gets worked up at the smallest mention of Jesten.
“What’s this guy’s go?” Ethan asks. “Why does Stan hate him so much?”
“Nothing. Jesten just digs his wife.” Brock winks. “Doesn’t he, Stan? They go way back.” He rubs salt into the wound.
“There is no way back,” Stan snaps as he pulls the sleeves of his jacket down to straighten them. “He wishes there was history.” He glares at Brock. “However, I will break your jaw if you talk about wayback.”
I chuckle and throw Brock a wink. I love watching him stir Joshua up. He takes the bait every time.
“We start to work on the TC case next week.” Brock returns to the conversation.
I nod as I look up the road. “Well, I already know who did that.”
“Yeah, but we need to prove it.”
Cameron releases a low whistle and smiles darkly. “Oh, hello, Little Red Riding Hood. Come to Daddy.”
We all turn to see a gorgeous brunette in a tight red dress walking towards the church. She’s super sexy with curves in all the right places.
“Shotgun,” Cameron whispers.
“Fuck off, Stanton,” Brock snaps. “You can’t fucking shotgun her.”
Cam smiles and he raises a brow. “Funny, I just did,” he mutters as he watches her. “Catch you losers later. I’m going to get my wolf on.” He takes off after her, disappearing inside the church.
Stan and I roll our eyes. He’s hopeless.
“He’s going to catch on fire in that fucking church,” Stan grumbles.
I get an image of Cameron combusting into flames as he walks into the church and I laugh. He probably will.
More guests arrive.
I glance at my watch again. “Where are they?”
“They’re coming, will you relax?”
I take out my phone and text Max.
What’s going on?
A text comes back.
We are following the car now.
All good this end.
Be there in five.
I reply.
How’s she feeling?
A text comes back.
The injection worked
She’s good.
Relax.
“They are almost here,” I announce. “We better get inside the church.”
Stan looks up the street and sees Jesten crossing the road. He narrows his eyes in contempt and puts his hands on his hips.
I roll my eyes. “Will you quit it?” I snap.
“I’m fucking watching him.” Stan scowls as he glares up the road.
“Stan.”
“What?” His eyes stay fixed on Jesten.
“This is my wedding day, and if you start any shit with him…”
His eyes flicker to me.
“I will kill you with my bare hands,” I finish.
“I won’t be starting it, but I’ll be fucking finishing it if he pisses me off.” He growls before marching off towards the church.
We stand and watch him disappear. “Can you keep an eye on him?” I ask Brock.
“No.” He rubs his eyes. “That is one fucking job I am not doing. I can’t keep Joshua Stanton The Hot Head in check. Nobody can. He’s out of fucking control.”
The white Rolls Royce pulls up and I smile.
She’s here.
“Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, I stand at the end of the aisle, waiting.
My friends are here. My aunt and uncle flew in from South Africa, and I wish I could tell you that this is the happiest day in my life.
But it’s not. My first wedding day was.
Our real wedding.
In New York, when it was the just the two of us.
It was so unexpected and so premature… but that day meant so much to me because it was unbelievable that she jumped off a cliff.
For me, with me.
Her faith in me is unwavering.
And like this beautiful, pure angel, she has completely transformed my life.
From one of hardened regret to a hopeful future filled with love.
She comes into sight and my breath catches.
I feel my eyes well up.
She’s wearing the ice-pink dress she wore to our first wedding and I have to drop my head to control my emotion.
Same shoes, same hair with the big white flower tucked behind her ear.
Same perfect woman with the same beautiful smile.
Seeing the effect she has on me, she beams brightly, and I just want to run to fetch her.
God, she’s perfect.
Taking slow steps, she walks down the aisle, her arm hooked through her brother Brock’s as her gaze holds mine.
“Hi,” she whispers as they approach.
I rise up onto my toes, fighting excitement I can hardly control. “Hi,” I whisper back.
Brock shakes my hand and then passes her hand to me. I can’t help it. I take her in my arms and kiss her softly. “You look beautiful,” I whisper.
Bridget and Natasha giggle from their place beside her.
For a moment, I forget where I am as I stare down at her.
“Are we ready?”
“Oh, yes.” I step back from her.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Bridget Marx to Benjamin Statham.”
The minister keeps on talking, but I’m lost.
My eyes roam over her perfect face, her big pouty lips, and then lower. My eyes rise to meet hers and I smile, forgetting where I am. I lean down and softly kiss her again.
Everybody chuckles and I stand up, realising what I just did.
Bridget laughs and kisses me again, our lips lingering over each other’s.
“Not yet, you two.” The minister frowns.
We both smirk as we try to behave.
He continues on. I watch her as she smiles goofily up at me, as if daring me.
I lean forward to kiss her again and she laughs. “Behave yourself,” she whispers as the church all break into laughter.
“Repeat after me.”
“I, Benjamin Statham, take thee, Bridget Marx, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. According to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I pledge thee my faith.
She slides the ring onto my finger and I kiss her again. She giggles and shakes her head.
“Repeat after me.”
“I, Bridget Marx, take thee, Benjamin Statham, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. According to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I pledge thee my faith.
She slides the ring onto my finger.
“I now pronounce you man and wife, and I now give you permission to kiss your bride.”
The crowd cheer and I take her in my arms, kissing her softly. “I don’t need his permission to kiss you” I whisper in her ear.
She laughs and whispers back, “Will you behave?”
“Never.”
Eighteen months later.
“Thank you all for joining me today,” says The President to the crowd.
“Today we come together to celebrate the bravery of one of the army’s finest soldiers from our Elite Delta force. Benjamin Statham.”
I stand before him in full uniform. Today I’m receiving a medal of honour, the army’s highest award.
He continues to talk, but my eyes fall to the front row to where Bridget and our two beautiful daughters are sitting. Rosie and Meika are twelve months old and they are the light in our lives. Meika sits on her mother’s lap while Rosie is climbing all over Adrian as he tries to control her. Joshua, Natasha, Cameron, Brock, Abbie, Victoria, and all of my friends are here. I’m very grateful for the family I married into, that the one I now call my own.
The twins are beautiful. It was tough in the beginning, but we’ve settled into a routine now and we can’t imagine life without them. Rosie is strong willed, walking, and refusing to eat anything other than bananas. She’s a handful already. Meika is smaller, easy going and placid. She’s not walking yet, although it won’t be long. She is clingy and never far from her mother’s side. Both girls are olive-skinned and pretty with dark hair, just like Didge. We live by the ocean, about an hour out of Sydney in a beautiful house, high in the mountains and surrounded by trees.
The view out over the water is majestic.
“This soldier single-handedly brought down one of the army’s biggest dthreats to date, and he saved thousands of lives in the process,” The President continues.
My mind goes to that night in Syria, and how different it could have ended.
The mist fills the air as I exhale. The temperature is cold, just one degree.
The landscape is unforgiving, hard and dry. It’s 2:00 a.m. and we are lying in long grass outside a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, but it’s the location of the missing nuclear weapon.
We gained intelligence that the farm owners have been killed and their house taken over. The two dogs that were shot dead and left on the driveway support that theory.
There are five of us left on this mission. Two nights ago we were ambushed in a bar, unprepared, and one of our men was stabbed. The fight turned ugly and somehow my dog chains were torn from my neck. Thankfully, our fellow soldier is all right and recovering in camp.
I put my hand up and signal that we are going in. We begin to creep closer to the property, remaining stealth.
Four men walk out of the front door and we all duck low. They are talking and smoking as they lean against a car. We can’t understand what they are saying but they are very animated, as if reacting to something that has just happened.
Two of them walk one way around the house, while the other two walk off towards the barn.
I put my fingers up to the two that are going around the side of the house and point to two soldiers to follow them to the barn. I symbol to my eyes to the other two to tell them to stay and watch the front of the house.
The two soldiers turn and begin to crawl through the grass, back towards the barn, leaving me to crawl towards the house.
I make it and lean up against the wall I can hear men talking inside.
Many voices. I concentrate to count how many.
Seven.
Eleven men in total.
I sneak around the side of the house, my heart beating hard in my chest, and I peer through a window.
A woman, a man, and three small children are tied up and gagged, sitting on the floor. The children are asleep sitting upright.
They’re still alive, but for how long?
The fire ignites inside of me and I grip the gun in my hand.
We can’t use guns…yet.
The guards have to be taken out by hand so the others aren’t notified.
One walks around the corner and I jump him, twisting our bodies until my hands are around his throat. I hear the swift, sharp crack as his neck breaks. His body falls to the ground.
I wait in silence for the other one to appear.
He walks around the corner. I jump on him and slam his head into the wall until he is unconscious.
I walk back around to the front corner of the house.
“Position?” I whisper into the headpiece.
“In front.”
“I’m going in the back door,” I whisper.
“Affirmative. Say the word and we come in the front.”
If I can get into the house undetected, I can locate the weapon before all hell breaks loose. We have a truck waiting a few kilometres up the road, ready to transport the weapon.
We are all fitted with cameras. The White House is watching our every move.
They see what we see.
I step over the bodies of the two guards and check the back door, thankful that, miraculously, it’s open.
My heart is beating hard.
I twist it slowly and walk in as I grip my gun in front of me.
I’m in the kitchen and I can hear them talking in the living area at the front of the house.
I will have to come around the corner and shoot the lot of them in five seconds or I’ll be dead.
“I’m in,” I whisper through the headpiece.
“Roger that.”
I walk up the darkened hall, past the doorway of the room where the family sit, bound and gagged.
The man sees me and his eyes widen in fear. I put my finger to my mouth to tell him to remain silent.
He nods, terrified of what’s about to happen.
I stand in the hallway, gun drawn, and I listen to them for a moment. I take a quick glance at the stairs behind me, mentally giving the place an internal risk assessment.
I need to secure upstairs first. We have no idea who’s up there, if anyone.
“No weapon sighting,” I whisper. “I’m going upstairs.”
“Be careful.”
I get down low and sneak up the stairs. The second top stair creaks loudly and I close my eyes.
My heart hammers as I stand still for a moment.
Clear.
I check upstairs room by room. Nobody. “Upstairs clear,” I whisper.
“Roger that.”
“The front door is separated from where they currently are. I’m going to come at them from the back. Wait for three shots, and then come in through the front.”
“Copy that.”
I sneak back down the stairs and out into the back of the house, making my way into the kitchen. I peer into the living area. I can see the weapon sitting in a box on the table.
“Visual on the weapon. I repeat: visual on the weapon. Shoot to kill,” I whisper.
I wait for a moment and then I twist my body, emerging from the corner.
I shoot one.
I shoot two.
They all jump and reach for their weapons, and I shoot another.
The room turns to chaos.
The front door bursts open and my four soldiers run in, spraying bullets in all directions.
All men down.“
Get the truck around here now.” I growl. “Get it outside!” I cry.
The soldiers all grab a corner and carry it out the front, but it’s heavy. I can’t image the damage it could do.
I run into the room and begin untying the family.
“You speak English?” I ask as I untie the man first.
The man shakes his head.
The woman and children are crying.
He helps me untie the others.
I hear the truck pull up out front.
“Buzz, get out here.”
I struggle to untie the little girl.
“Buzz, get out here now!”
I struggle with the ropes.
Gunfire rips through the air.
Fuck. I pick up the little girl.
“Buzz. Where the fuck are you?”
“Go without me. I can’t leave them here,” I cry.
“Get out here!”
“Go, get the weapon out of here now!” I yell.
The truck takes off at full speed, and I grab the family. We run out the back and to the barn.
Gunfire explodes everywhere
We make it across the paddock and hide in the darkness of the barn.
I listen.
So many male voices.
I hear the truck leaving and I hear a car take off after them.
The truck is armoured.
Just a kilometre up the road and the weapon will be safe.
They’ll be outnumbered and killed.
We have many soldiers waiting. We couldn’t risk them coming in in case the weapon was detonated.
There is car in the barn and I open the door.
“Key?” I say.
The man looks at me, not understanding.
“Keys...” I whisper. I make a hand gesture, trying to turn an imaginary key, but he shakes his head and points to the house.
Fuck it.
I get in, rip the dash off and begin to hot-wire it.
I can hear voices getting louder as they approach, obviously after the car.
Fuck.
The family are huddled in the car in the dark. The woman is sobbing in fear.
I gesture for the man to get into the driver’s seat.
“When I start it, you drive,” I whisper.
He frowns.
“Go!” I point to the road. “Go, I’ll cover you.”
He seems to understand and I zap the wires together. The car starts with a roar.
I run to the side of the barn and begin to fire at the men. I need to cover the car or they won’t get away. I shoot one man, and then another.
Only two more to go.
The car screams down the driveway. I keep shooting so that they can’t pull their weapons.
They get away.
Thank God.
I run around to the outside back of the barn and I check my ammunition.
Six bullets.
Two men.
I close my eyes. I can’t miss.
I grip my gun in my hand as I hear them approaching.
My heart is pounding so fucking hard.
Bridget. I need to get home to Bridget.
I pant as I try to catch my breath.
With renewed determination, I grip my gun.
Nobody is going to stop me getting home to her.
Not today, motherfuckers.
Not ever.
I spin my body around, appearing out of nowhere to fire a spray of bullets at the enemy.
Both men down.
I pant, desperately trying to catch my breath, and I fall to the ground in relief.
“He then walked twenty-two kilometres alone until he made it back to camp,” The President continues and I am brought back to the present moment.
I have no idea what he’s been saying.
“Congratulations, son. You are the army’s finest.” He puts the medal on the blue ribbon around my neck and shakes my hand with a broad smile on his face. The crowds cheer.
I turn to see Bridget laughing, clapping, and crying with pride, and I smile.
A medal is just a medal.
But her love is my lifeline.