CREED

I was almost twenty-five years old and on my fourth deployment to Afghanistan. In a few short months, I would be honorably discharged from the Army for serving my country the last four years.

One thing I knew to be true…

I was more fucked up now than I was when I enlisted, that was for damn sure.

My unit had been overseas for the last six months, surviving the only way we knew how. Taking more lives, adding more deaths to the notches on our belts and losing ourselves a little more each day. It didn’t help that Mia stopped writing me, I hadn’t heard from her since I left her on the balcony of Giselle’s apartment eight months ago. I spent the last few days of my leave keeping my distance. Busying myself with the club and brothers. Giving her space. Feeling like the worst piece of shit for hurting her in the first place.

I didn’t expect her to stop writing me, not that I could blame her. But it fucking pissed me off nonetheless.

I missed her.

I missed her smart ass mouth, her wit, and the way she always caught me up on her life, making me feel like I was a part of it even when I was overseas. Always writing her letters in pink ink, signing it—Pippin XOXO.

Most of all, I missed the patches she sent me. Not just the funny ones which always made me laugh my ass off, but also the ones that had only one word of encouragement written on them. Sending them at times when I really need it, as if she knew. Sensing my despair like she felt me from the millions of miles between us. The last letter she sent me had her school picture in it. For some reason the day we left on deployment, I brought it back with me. Starting to carry it around with me everywhere.

Realizing for the first time how much I needed her in my life. How she had been the only constant blessing I had since the moment I met her.

“Seriously, man. Think about it. Had I not been forced to bend over and take it up the ass again, I’d either be eating steak or pussy right now,” Owen stated, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I chuckled, needing to laugh. Even though I was on full alert, glancing around the empty streets with him following behind me. Mason and the rest of our unit were in the opposite alley, surrounding the building we were patrolling. An eerie feeling I knew all too well crept up my spine. I shuddered with a chill, protectively moving out in front of Owen.

For a second I thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, but then a gust of wind blinded me with a fine, powdery dust from the dirt in the stale, dry air.

“Shhh… did you hear that?” I murmured, loud enough for him to hear me.

“Fuck no, I didn’t hear that. We’ve been here for seven fucking days, patrolling the same fucking area, over and over and over, and I haven’t heard a goddamn thing. Stupid motherfuckers. They don’t give a fuck about you, me, or anyone else. It’s all about the almighty dollar, Creed. You know it, and so do I. Three more weeks, my friend. Three more weeks and they all can suck my cock.”

I turned and pushed Owen, trying to give him a look, ordering him to post. “Shut the fuck up, Owen.”

He didn’t listen.

Owen had been fired up since they fucked up our orders to go home a little more than a month ago. Or so they said. We all knew why we were here, and it had nothing to do with paperwork. It didn’t take too many fucking brain cells to figure it out, but it didn’t matter.  We hadn’t seen another soul on this mission for the last seven days. Making it easy for him to let his guard slip a little when he should have been on-point. Owen fucking knew better. He was just pissed about being there when we shouldn’t have been, letting it consume him to the point of carelessness.

I understood his frustrations. I wanted to go home, too. I was exhausted, game fucking over, but I was too close to getting us the fuck out of there to fuck it up now.

Owen cughed up fine dust, hacking up half a lung before continuing to be a goddamn idiot. “Chill, man. The whole unit has our back. Nobody’s fucking here. You know the first thing I’m doing when I get home, Creed? I’m taking a fucking bubble bath with my wife’s fancy-ass soap. I don’t care if it makes me a pussy. I don’t care if I smell like the poop fragrance she sprays after I take a shit in the bathroom. I’m fucking sitting in there, knowing, marinating in the fact that I never have to come back over here again. Breathing in this fucking shit that who the fuck knows if it will cause us fucking cancer one day. Or the whiff of rotting dead bodies every time the wind shifts.” He nodded behind him. “Did you see that shit?”

I did see it.

I saw everything, but I didn’t need to turn my head to see where the foul stench had come from. Just like everything I learned in all my years of service, my peripheral vision was sharper than most. With my eyes focused on the corner building, I avoided glancing to the pile of dead bodies.

From that point forward it all became a blur and not from the gust of wind filling my eyes with dry sand. It happened so fast, yet it seemed so fucking slow. I pulled my gun on a dog, running from an alley at the exact same time I caught the sniper out of the corner of my eye, aiming right for Owen. Quickly realizing the dog was a goddamn distraction ploy.

I took action, shoving him back as hard as I could, with my gun out in front of me. A bullet whistled through the desert air, just missing the back of my head. If I hadn’t shoved him, if I hadn’t moved him out of the way things could have been different, but they weren’t.

I regained my balance and ran several feet forward, taking out the sniper before he had the chance to try to take out Owen. Shooting a bullet in the center of his forehead like it was just another motherfucking day.

“Shit,” Owen called out. “You just saved my life, Creed.” He stepped forward at the exact same time I looked back.

BOOM!

At first, I didn’t even know what happened. My body jolted back from the impact of the land mine, roughly being thrown into a pile of rubble and rocks. Sharp pain radiated throughout my entire core, reaching places I didn’t even know you could possibly feel pain. The wind knocked out of me with so much fucking force that I felt like my lungs had collapsed and I was suffocating to death.

Coughing, wheezing, gasping for my next breath.

When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t fucking see anything but bright white all around me. My head throbbed with a sudden splitting headache. The loud ringing in my ears blocked out all the chaos surrounding me. Piercing pain at my temples made me think my brain had just exploded. Clouding my judgment, my strength, and my will to keep fucking going.

“Creed! Fuck man! Creed! You hit?!” I heard Mason shouting from above me. “Bro, don’t do this to me! Don’t you fucking do this to me!” He patted my chest, down my arms and my legs. Trying to feel if I was hit.

“Fine…” I sputtered, my throat raw and burning, making it extremely difficult to get any words out. I carefully turned over to my stomach, struggling to catch my bearings. Fighting a war with my body to do what it was trained to.

“I’m fine… Owen… where is—”

“Shit! I’ll be right back! We’re getting raided! Gonna go get these motherfuckers! Don’t. Fucking. Move! Do you understand me?! Stay right here! I’ll be right fucking back!”

I weakly nodded, staring blindly in the direction of Mason’s voice. My eyes readjusted, slightly coming back into focus. I sat up, pressing my hand hard against my chest, trying to breathe through the excruciating pain from the impact. Applying pressure on my sternum, wanting to alleviate some of the tension, some of the buildup. Feeling as though I was internally bleeding, my body was giving out on me. I slouched against the wall, looking down at the ground, gasping for the air that wasn’t available for the taking. The sunlight and the dirty air were almost as blinding as the bomb that just went off in front of me.

My eyes felt like they were bleeding, burning from the chemicals that radiated from the explosive. I reached up wanting to wipe away the debris, knowing it was fucking pointless, my hands were covered in God-knows-what. I blinked a few times, gradually looking up. Adjusting to the light, looking all around me. Needing to find Owen. Desperately pushing through the disorientation and confusion of our location from where we were and where his body could have been tossed.

Several explosions sounded nearby, and it felt like the seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours. I was frantically trying to see who else had been hit, if it was more of my men.

I pushed off the wall, stumbling to stand on my own. Placing one foot in front of the other, mind over fucking matter, I kept telling myself as my body started going into shock. The more I moved, the closer I got, maneuvering on autopilot as I hurried down the alleyway. Making my way toward the guy who had become a brother to me. Not giving a fuck about anything else but getting to him.

Guns blazing.

Bullets firing in all directions.

War was all around me.

It didn’t fucking faze me anymore.

Not knowing if anything ever could, till I came upon his broken form. There was so much fucking blood coming out of what was left of his body as he convulsed, shaking uncontrollably, as I watched him fucking dying right in front of my eyes. I didn’t think twice about it. I grabbed him, dragging his limp body into the building next to us. Leaving a trail of blood staining the dirt. I didn’t have the strength to carry him, to throw him over my shoulder like I had done for so many soldiers prior, to get us the fuck out of there.

I dragged his contorted body, ignoring his pleas of desperation to not move him, urgently begging me to just leave him there. That everything hurt. That he couldn’t take the pain. Crying, groaning, sounds of pure agony and misery fell from his lips in a way I’d never heard before. I stopped once we were far enough inside the concrete walls, away from any broken windows or points of entry, hiding us as best as I could, given the shitty fucking circumstances. Knowing one of my men would find us. Disregarding all the rotting dead bodies that were already in there, lives that were taken for good or for evil.

It all blended together.

“Ahh, shit, Creed,” he continued in a tone that wasn’t his. As if he had already given up on life.

“You’re okay, man. You’re okay. I got ya.” I laid him by the wall, leaning over and covering his body with mine like a shield.

Kneeling beside his mangled frame, looking up at the ceiling, keeping my emotions in check. Ignoring the active rounds of fire happening just on the other side of the concrete. Where I should have been fighting with my men. But I couldn’t leave my brother.

“Creed…”

I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes for a few seconds, needing a minute to get my shit together to look down at him.

Not for me.

For him.

Mentally preparing myself for what I would see, for what would happen, for what I knew he was going to ask of me.

Because I would ask for the same fucking thing.

I peered down at the soldier I’d known for what felt like a lifetime, taking in what was left of his body, a gruesome scene right out of a war movie. Except this was a reality.

My fucking reality.

Nothing of the man that would risk his life for me was left. Anything that made him human had just been blown off, and I was damn certain it didn’t stop there.  

“I’m here, brother. I’m here,” I gritted out, my lips trembling.

“Creed… It’s bad, man… it’s fucking bad…” he lamented, struggling to get the words out. “I’m gonna die… Please… please… don’t let me die, Creed. I want to go home…” bawling, his voice breaking.

I reached over and grabbed his hand on the only arm he had left, squeezing it, providing any comfort I could. Letting him know I was there with him.

He wasn’t alone.

“I want to see my family… my girl, Creed...” he groaned, gargling over the blood coming out of his mouth.  

“You’re goin’ home, buddy. You’re goin’ fuckin’ home! You hear me? You’re not gonna fuckin’ die. You’re not! Not here, not now! Fight, motherfucker, fight!” I yelled, unsure of who I was trying to convince.

He started to cough up clots of blood. I tried to sit him up but he screamed in agony, so I laid him back down. Grabbing his hand again, waiting.

“Fuck… man…” he whispered, looking up at me with half his face disfigured and covered in blood. “Tell my girl… I fucking love her… Creed. Tell my baby girl… I died with honor… I died a man… a goddamn soldier… fighting to keep her safe…” he let out, gasping through the despair. For his next breath. “Tell my mom not to be sad… tell her I died a happy man… with her on my mind… You… tell them… I did not suffer… You make sure… they know that… please… fucking… please… promise me… swear to me… they will know… it was quick and I did not fucking suuufffeeerrr…”

I nodded, unable to form words. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I shoulda seen it. It’s my job to fuckin’ protect my unit. My men. This is my fault. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, brother.” Bowing my head in shame.

His body started to convulse again, this time worse than before. “Creed! I can’t do this! Don’t make me suffer, man! I don’t want to go out like this!” he roared, crying uncontrollably through the pain. The agony, the future he would never have.

“Don’t ask me to do that… please…” I begged, knowing what he was asking me to do.

“Do it! Cut the cord! I’m not going home! It could be over in a split second! And… you know it! Bullet to the head! Let me die with fucking honor! Let me die a fucking soldier with my fucking dignity, not this pitiful man bleeding out!” He spit out more blood, forcing his body to yell at me. Telling me what he needed.

Another gasp of air gurgled in his lungs. His end was near. I knew my worst fucking nightmare was about to come true. Visualizing my friend suffocating in his own blood until his lungs gave out, exploding in his fucking chest. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, the terrified expression on his face, fearing the next phase of his soul was too real.

I couldn’t do that.

Pulling him into my arms, I laid his head on my bicep. Holding him close, rocking his shaking body back and forth, it immediately brought back memories of when I did this with Luke.

“Shhh… shhh… shhh… Owen… watching your baby girl be born on that video your wife sent was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, man. Shhh…” I repeated, reminiscing of happier times. Wanting him to go out with good memories, a sedated heart, a clear fucking conscience.

“Yeah, Creed…” he gasped for air. “She’s… beautiful… most… beautiful… thing in… the world.”

“I promise I will tell her all about you. She will know who her daddy was and what he did for our country.” My eyes watered with tears, but I blinked them away, wanting to be strong for him.

Allowing his mind and body to calm down.

Waiting until he felt some peace.

“Thank… you… Creed…” he murmured, trying to smile, looking up at me.  

“I love you, man. Thanks for being my friend,” I softly said, hugging him closer. Reaching over, jolting my arm, hearing one very loud pop.

Snapping his neck.

Putting him out of his goddamn misery.

I broke down, holding Owen’s lifeless body in my arms. Bawling, tears ran down my face, heaving in and out, crying like a little girl. He was so fucking close to never looking back.

Freedom.

And just like that.

 

Owen was gone, and his blood was on my hands.