CHAPTER TWO
Havoc
“Sorry I’m late getting here,” I call to my guys. “I was in the middle of the mother of all traffic stops. I got a car transporting fifty fucking pounds of marijuana, and I had to hand that shit off to another officer,” I grumble, throwing my MTF uniform on.
“Oh, quit your bitchin’,” Tank throws over his shoulder as he’s putting his gear on too. “I was having lunch with Blaze.”
“And I was in the middle of naptime with Stella,” Renegade throws in his two cents. “We’re all making sacrifices for what we do.”
“But my picture could have been on the State of Alabama Facebook page for the biggest marijuana bust in these parts in years,” I argue, a grin on my face that they can’t see.
“It don’t matter who likes your ugly mug now, Havoc,” Menace, the oldest of my guys, besides me, pipes in with his response. “You’re married, you don’t need the notoriety.”
“Yeah.” Ace grins at me as I turn around to face them. “Menace here has been celibate since Caleb was like four, more than likely. He needs to get laid so much more than you do.”
Poor Menace, being the single dad of the group gets him picked on every time. I laugh at them, happy that they’re this relaxed before we move out, but I know I have to rein it in. “Ace, do you have the intel for me?”
“CI’s that Menace and I picked up earlier today said they saw a load of moonshine being transported into Laurel Springs from Stewart County.”
My brain is working quickly. Stewart County is the next county over and they’re beginning to have the same types of problems we are. Before I continue getting ready, I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and fire off a quick text to Leighton.
H: I’ve been called out with the MTF. I might be late getting home.
Immediately she responds, something that always makes me smile.
L: Please be careful. Get home whenever you can, but get home in one piece.
The words put a warmness in my chest I never had before she came along. I hold it tightly and close to me, not ever wanting to let it go.
“You think that’s where all the moonshine is coming from?” Renegade asks as he arms himself with weapons for possible hand-to-hand. “The field parties we’ve been breaking up lately,” he points to Tank, “have glass bottles littered everywhere, but we can’t make heads or tails of whose still they’re coming from. Not with the Strathers out of business.”
“I don’t think they’re out of business.” I strap on my gloves that help me keep hold of my weapon, even when adrenaline makes me sweat. “I think the explosion interrupted production, but I think they’re purchasing from Stewart County and passing it off as their own, until they can get back up and running. They’re not going to let go of the stranglehold they have on this territory.”
“Is that what your wife told you?” Ace raises a brow at me.
“Nope, that’s what my guts telling me.” I ignore the way he’s slightly questioning where my loyalties lie. It’s been a common occurrence since I moved her in and got married. One I figured on, and one I’m dealing with.
He rolls his head around on his neck, chomping on a piece of gum. “That’s good enough for me then, bro.”
“So where are we hitting? Where did your CIs see this truck coming from?”
Ace motions me over, grabs his phone, and pulls up the map program we use. It’s a small road on the Stewart and Laurel County line. We have jurisdiction for the whole state as long as we’re chasing ’shine. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”
We’re quiet as our transportation takes us across the county line, and I can feel my heart rate kick up. This isn’t our normal territory, and I’m totally unsure at what we could face. We’re acting on the tip we’ve been given and normal recon isn’t available. Basically, we’re flying blind. Something I don’t like to do.
My mind is quiet as I focus on the job at hand, chomping on the gum in my mouth, and try to keep my mind off the woman who makes me want to believe in happily ever after. If I go into this distracted, I may not make it out, and I don’t want to leave her unprotected – ever.
“Alright, guys,” our transport driver yells back to us. “Time to bail!”
As I hit the ground, the thud of my well-worn combat boots makes a welcomed sound. It’s the indication that I have a job to do and I’m ready to kick some ass. We’re quiet as we move through the dirt and tall grass that’s allowing us to sneak up, undetected. As we broach the perimeter, I can see a makeshift still. It’s not the most sophisticated operation I’ve ever seen, but I have no doubt it can get the job done.
I motion for the guys to fan out. They know their jobs – take pictures, check for stragglers, and see if we can find any illegal product. “Keep alert,” I yell out, because something doesn’t feel right about this. Normally I’d keep quiet, but I’m willing to give up my position to protect my guys.
My gaze is sweeping the perimeter where we came from when I catch a glint of metal, and before I can yell at everyone to take cover, the bullet catches me right in the chest. I’m knocked down and the breath has been taken from me, but it was taken by the impact of the bullet piercing my vest, and not my skin. I struggle to catch a breath, already wondering what the bruise is going to look like, already thankful I get to go home and see Leighton in a few hours.
Thank God, because I wasn’t ready to die today.
* * *
“Do y’all need anything else before I head out?” I ask my guys as they sit at their laptops, finishing their reports. None of us had planned on doing anything with the MTF today, but when the State of Alabama calls, we answer.
It’s been a long fucking day. Hell, it’s been a long six months since the explosion and the wedding. Looking down at my left hand, I catch a glimpse of the black band of silicone resting against the skin. It proclaims me a married man, and I took my vows seriously when I spoke them, but it still feels foreign to me. Especially because I go back and forth between this silicone band, and the metal one I wear when I’m not working or working out. The guys gave me so much shit when I ordered one I could wear at work, but what can you do when the symbol of a connection to the woman you’re married to grounds you?
“You sure you don’t want me to call Blaze and have her come check you out?” Tank asks as he glances up from his laptop, concern written on what’s usually a smiling face. If there’s one thing we do well in this unit, it’s take care of one another.
I roll my shoulder back, feeling the tightness in my chest where the bullet hit me square in the vest this afternoon. I’ve been hit before, and I know it’ll be a few days of soreness and eventually it goes away. I refuse to take the vest off, because I don’t want the guys to see how bad it possibly is right now. “I’m good, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
When I breach the door of the Moonshine Task Force Headquarters, I let my shoulders slump and give into the absolute agony I feel along my chest wall. Looking back, I make sure no one is watching as I go out to my truck, before I open the door and pull myself into the driver’s seat.
I sigh, bracing myself as I unclip the vest, and painfully pull it over my head. Breathing hurts slightly, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m good. Resting my shoulders back against the leather of the seat, I give myself a few minutes to get my shit together. In the cup holder, my cell buzzes.
L: Roles seem to be reversed…LOL! Just letting you know, I’m gonna be late tonight. I’m going to take Caleb home for Mason and then swing by the grocery. You need anything? I’ll pick up something to cook for dinner.
Menace will appreciate that she’s going above and beyond to help him out, and I can’t help the little smile that spreads across my face. Leighton’s stepped into her role as my wife better than I could have imagined. She cares about my guys as much as I do, and all of us notice it.
Rolling my head around on my neck, I work my shoulders to try and loosen some of the tightness in them. A hot shower is going to be the only way I’ll be able to move tomorrow.
H: Whatever you get is good with me. It’s been a fuckin’ long day. See you at home. Be safe.
Saying be safe is the only way I can let her know that I care without saying it to her. She deserves a man who loves her, who worships the ground she walks on, and in the past year I’ve come to care about her a great deal. There are times when the depth of my feelings surprise me, but I’m not sure I’m the type of man who can fall so selfishly in love with a woman. Not after my past. I’m giving her pieces of myself I can stand to give her, but in a way I feel sorry for her; she married me and not a man who’s romantic enough to bring her flowers on a random Tuesday. Maybe one day I’ll be that man, but right now I’m the furthest thing from it. Starting my truck, I drive off into the late-evening sun, looking down at my wedding ring again.
Marriage. Before Leighton Strather came into my life, I’d never given the word a thought – whether it be for convenience or love. It wasn’t an institution I was interested in, not when I’d seen so many of my friends attempt it and have it backfire. Granted, all of those instances happened in a war zone, but the one time I had a girl back home, she did the same shit to me. Broke my fucking heart, but there was something about Leighton Strather I’ve never been able to get out of my head.
I became interested the day she kissed me in a bar, but was able to push it out of my mind. At least that’s what I’ve tried to tell myself. That shit changed the day I saw a darkening bruise on Leighton’s chin and a slightly crooked tilt to her nose in the back of an ambulance.
For most of my life I’ve been in charge of people, I’ve been given the absolute honor of protecting eighty percent of the men and women I come into contact with. Very few times I’ve failed in that protection, and I know without a doubt I won’t fail this woman. Whether I admit it to anyone or not, she’s got a piece of me that I never want to take back. She’s had it since she glanced up at me, her brown eyes dark with fear, asking me what would happen to her if her family got hold of her again. I couldn’t stand the wobble of her chin, the puffiness of her bottom lip from where she’d taken it between her teeth in fear, or the tears pooling in her eyes. I’ve always been the type of man to take action when it’s something I can help with.
This, I can help her with, and the day in the back of the ambulance? When I saw her sitting there so small, so closed off to everything around her, I made a decision that has effectively changed not only our lives, but also the course of our future. That was the moment I decided to give her my last name, and I always take care of what’s mine. Even if it costs me everything, including the beat of my heart and the air I breathe.
I don’t even remember getting home; just realize I’ve pulled into the driveway when I notice the house in front of me. The house is my pride and joy. It was the first thing I bought when I came back from my tour and decided to stay in my hometown.
My reasons for joining the military were simple. Pussy and getting out of what had been a three-stoplight speck on the Alabama state map. Funny how life changes in the course of almost fifteen years. Laurel Springs now has over thirty stoplights, as well as a parkway and interstate connection, and as of this moment, there’s only one pussy I want. The one I can’t have. Even if she does wear my ring and have my last name.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. The hit to the vest must have taken more out of me than I thought. I put the truck in park and turn it off, before taking a minute to collect myself. I’m tired as hell. So damn tired. And so mother fucking frustrated I could scream.
That’s what happens when you feel like you live a lie every day of your life. It’s a pressure beating down on your shoulders, pressing on the lean tissue, causing you to hunch over. Eating away at the muscle and strength, but you have to decide if you’re going to let it.
That’s not me though; I stand tall no matter what. It’s what was taught to me as a kid and then added onto when I joined the military. Now I command my own unit for the State of Alabama. I take my responsibilities very seriously. And right now, those responsibilities are my guys in the Moonshine Task Force and the woman wearing my wedding ring, signing my last name after her first.
Gathering the last bit of energy I have, I open the door; turn in the driver’s seat and gingerly drop to the ground, enjoying the crunch of gravel under my feet as I do so.
Reaching in, I grimace as I grab my gear, strolling tall to the house. On the walk to the porch, I give no indication I’m hurting. If anyone is watching the place, and I know they are, they’ll see me just like I want them to see me. Someone not to be fucked with.
Once I’m inside, I let my shoulders fall, throw my stuff down, and head straight for the shower.
Leighton
“Thanks for picking me up and dropping me off.”
I glance over at Caleb, giving him a soft smile. He looks older than his fifteen years, but he’s had to grow up quick, just like I did. From what I’ve been able to gather, Mason’s been a single dad for at least the past thirteen years, and I’m not sure if Caleb’s mom is alive or not. They don’t talk about her much; no one talks about her at all, to be honest.
“Not a problem. You know I don’t mind helping out if you need it. Do you work tomorrow?”
I waitress at The Café, and Caleb helps in the kitchen and busses the tables. It’s not much work, but he does it, and does it well. Mason’s instilling a good work ethic in the kid, and I can’t help but admire it. I wish I had come by my own work ethic the way he is, and not by helping out with the family business as a teenager.
He nods, a yawn cracking his jaw. “Yeah, I’m gonna be there after football practice. So I’ll be working later than you will be,” he explains as he grabs his bag, reaching for the handle on the door to let himself out of the car.
“Still,” I say, reaching into my pocket and give him a portion of my tips. My way of thanking him for keeping my tables clean and honestly just to help him out because I know he’s living a difficult life right now. “If you need someone to drive you, either I or Holden will help.”
“My dad won’t get in trouble?” he asks quietly, mentioning Mason. “I hate asking his boss for a ride. It doesn’t seem like something most bosses would do for the people who work for them. I don’t want charity and I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” His voice is strong as he says those words, and I wonder just how much he thinks he’s a burden to other people, how much that weighs on him. It’s weighed on me for most of my life, and I’m not the person to be helping someone else get rid of that weight, but I want to at least try and make it easier on him.
“We’re here to help,” I explain, like I always do to this teenager who’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Everybody’s here to help. All you have to do is ask. The same way we’d ask you or your dad if we needed help. It’s what families, whether they’re blood or by choice, do.”
I don’t want the weight he has on his shoulders to crush him. Don’t want him to end up in the same situation I was in before Holden rescued me. Not that he has a family making moonshine, but it’s important for me to let him know he’s cared about.
He reluctantly takes the tip out I hand him, before getting out of the car. “I know,” he says with a grin. This kid will be a heartbreaker one day soon, and I can’t help but smile back.
“See ya around, Caleb.”
He gives me a wave as I pull out of the driveway and turn my car, heading for the grocery store.
* * *
As I push the cart through the aisles, I glance at the shelves wondering what in the world I’m going to cook tonight. Sometimes I wish Holden would give me an idea, but he never asks for anything different than what I make. He never questions, and he never makes demands in everyday life either. I truly get the feeling he’s happy with the little life we’ve carved out for ourselves, but every once in a while I wonder, what would it be like to live with a man who can’t keep his hands off of me? What would it be like to go to bed with someone who spooned me from behind because he couldn’t stand not to touch me? What do Holden’s lips taste like first thing in the morning? These are all questions I want the answers to, but I know we aren’t there yet, maybe never will be, but I’m holding out hope. If he cared enough to marry me because of some sense of obligation to protect me, there has to be feelings there. And honestly, how do I expect him to feel things for me, when I don’t even know what the feelings I have for him are?
All I know is I like it when he’s around and I like it even more when he looks at me like I’m the center of his universe. Which is something I’ll never admit to anyone.
As I pass the alcohol aisle, I glance at the six packs of beer, the bottles of amber liquid, the taller containers of wine, and I wonder what he likes. Things have been tense with us lately, and I’m unsure why.
Maybe it’s because I’m not good at ignoring him anymore. I haven’t been for months now. It used to be I could look objectively at the hot man with whom I share a house.
That changed one day when I came home from work early and caught him masturbating in the shower. He doesn’t know. It would mortify me if he knew, but the way he’d groaned my name had me bracing my hand against the bathroom wall and fighting not to open the shower door.
I’ve woken up countless times since then, my hand between my thighs and his name on my lips as I explode, hoping like hell I haven’t woken him up, since we sleep in the same bed. The orgasm? It’s empty. As empty as I feel our life together is most of the time. The hardest part about the emptiness is the little glimpses I get every once in a while that show me how full it could be if we’d both just let our guards down.
“Leighton!”
I steel myself as I hear the sound of Mable Hall – sounds like an eighty-year-old grandma, right? Wrong. She’s a forty-year-old divorcee who wants my husband. She’s told me so (in not so many words) on numerous occasions. Newsflash – I wear his ring, and one day I’ll know what it feels like for him to be inside of me as he loses control. God as my witness, I will make that man lose control.
Reaching over, I grab a pack of the Corona bottles and drop them in my cart, as I try to get away from Mable. I pretend like I can’t hear her and keep moving my cart up the aisle, farther away from her.
“Leighton, do you not hear me talking to you?” Her voice is high-pitched and like nails on a chalk board to my ears.
Gritting my teeth, I turn around, fake smile on my face, false apologetic tone to my voice. “Sorry, I’m just in a hurry to get home and get dinner done. It’s been a long day, and I like to spend my evenings with my husband.” I twirl my wedding ring around on my finger, hoping she takes the hint. My husband, not her piece of ass to mess around with.
Her eyes drop to the diamond on my finger, and if I’m not mistaken, I see a glimmer of unease in her eyes.
“I was just wondering if you could give Holden a message for me? He came and spoke to our pre-school class earlier this week, and I had a few things I wanted to verify. Can you have him call me? I didn’t think to get his number in case any of the children needed to know more.”
I grit my teeth, a flush working its way up my neck and chest. I can feel it, and I wish to God my emotions and thoughts weren’t always written all over my face. This isn’t just embarrassing for me, but also for her. She wants a man she’s never going to have. We’ve made it to the checkout lanes, and I start unloading my cart.
“The best thing to do, Mable, would probably be to call the station. Off-duty is time for family and friends. He doesn’t really like to take work home with him, if you know what I mean.”
I’m feeling awfully proud of myself for standing up to her, when she glances at me from head to toe, sniffing in distaste.
She laughs, the tone downright ugly. “You should know better than anyone he takes his work home with him. After all, honey,” the word is dripping with sarcasm, “he married you.”
She waves her fingers in my direction before she turns and walks off. I try like hell not to throw my purchases on the conveyer belt, but I fail when I think of her standing in the community, how much closer she and Holden are in age, and honestly how much bigger her tits probably are than mine. It’s a hard realization that Holden made a big mistake in marrying me, and more than likely he can’t wait until we he can correct that mistake.