Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 67

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Marcus Returns - With Blood On His Hands.

Thursday, September 12th, 1:23 pm

The whiskey washed over my tongue, a smoky symphony of flavors that mingled and reminded me that there were good things to drink in this world besides water.

I hadn’t realized how sore I’d gotten from the past few days… or how tired I was. It wasn’t just a feeling of lack of quality sleep. It was a deep, bone-weary exhaustion after several days of hard labor… something that simple sleep couldn’t cure. Only a long rest would do that.

I hadn’t thought I would return to the States in need of a vacation from my vacation.

Taking my last sip of whiskey, I peered out the window and enjoyed the view—puffy white clouds blanketed the expanse underneath, and a bright, cheery sun hovered about twenty degrees above them. I’d always enjoyed the sight of the clouds below me; it provided a small thrill to see something that had always existed overhead now stretched out beneath me. It was especially comforting now, reminding me that humanity had overcome and risen above the limits of nature—a nice reminder after days of wet and cold in the forest.

“That went quick,” Emily said.

I looked from the window to my sister, who was eyeing me with concern.

“Sorry,” I said, remembering that she was an addict. “I should’ve moved.”

Emily shook her head, “No… you’re fine. I'm just worried about you.”

“I’m surprisingly okay,” I said. “It’s just nice to sit in a chair and not worry about getting hunted down.”

“Nat,” Emily said to the girl sitting next to her. “Would you get him another whiskey?”

Natashya peered up from the book she’d just settled in to start reading. True to form, the wild, bohemian beauty had shed her shoes and curled up in her seat, tucking her bare feet underneath.

She looked from Emily to me, her inviting lips creeping into a mischievous smile. “What? Am I to be his flight attendant? I suppose Emily will be your bodyguard?”

I shot her a look severely lacking in amusement, and Emily looked at her, her expression saying, Did you really just say that?

Natashya’s smile faltered. “Sorry. That was in poor taste.”

She slid off her seat, gave me a smile that was more sweet than sassy, and plucked my glass from my hand. She leaned in and pressed her lips to my forehead. They felt warm against my skin and reminded me that we had once been intimate. Regularly. I could still remember vividly how she tasted… the way her mouth felt on mine. The way those lips felt around my member. There was an involuntary hitch in my breath that I was sure both ladies heard.

Then she straightened, gave me a knowing look, and vanished down the corridor.

Emily’s pale gray eyes lingered on mine, and something besides concern had creeped into the look she gave me. She knew I still had a thing for her girlfriend, and it bothered her—a mixture of jealousy, insecurity, and… confusion.

Confusion because my sister and I had the same lover. Even though it was mostly at different times, it was strange enough. It was made weirder by the fact that there had been some overlap.

But that wasn’t all.

We weren’t technically related, but we grew up together through a marriage between her dad and my mom. We shared two half-brothers, but Emily and I were adoptive siblings, and Natashya’s involvement with both of us sparked an undefined tension that put a lot of weight on that word—adoptive.

I stared into those wide, expressive eyes and glanced at those full, lush lips—the bottom one was caught between her teeth as she stared at me.

I was the first to look away, losing some proverbial game of chicken that I wasn’t even sure we were playing.

Maybe the forest hadn’t been all bad.

No… the forest had been very bad.

______

Wednesday, September 11th, early afternoon

There were fifteen men in Psalter’s group. All of them were dressed just alike—in non-de*********** black tactical gear with various tools and armaments strapped to them. Psalter and I watched them work. He was making sure his directions were followed. I was still trying to keep my lungs in my chest from all the smoke I inhaled.

Some of the men were stacking the bodies of Tanaka’s mercenaries and stripping them of anything valuable, including their outfits. Others were already gathering the supplies Chloe and I had scrounged for and were undoing all the hard work we had put into our shelter. Two of them were carefully trying to extract Astrid from the wreckage. They had already given her something to knock her out and immediately set to work using specialized equipment to cut her free while trying to keep the damage to a minimum. The estimated time it would take was roughly two hours.

Psalter didn’t think we had that kind of time.

He pushed hard for me to remain with the team working on Astrid while he and his troops went to the cabin, but I wasn’t hearing any of it. Of course, I knew better than to think I would be any help compared to thirteen highly-trained soldiers handpicked by Henry, but if there were a chance that I could do anything to tip the scales in our favor, I would seize it.

Plus, I needed to know Chloe and Shea were safe. I liked Shea. In fact, I really liked Shea. She was a gorgeous woman with a calming spirit and a kind disposition, and we enjoyed each other’s company more times than I could count. I couldn’t sleep with someone and spend that much time with them, only to not develop a connection. If Tanaka killed her, I wouldn’t only feel guilty… I’d be devastated.

Chloe, on the other hand…

Like I said, I liked Shea, but we were never anything more than good friends with benefits. I’d never seen her as someone with whom I shared something deep and special… possibly romantic.

That wasn't the case with Chloe. I felt something… something primal and real, and I knew she did, too. If something happened to Chloe, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

No. Henry Psalter would have had to tie me up and lock me in a box to keep me from coming with them.

So, the fifteen of us walked the ten minutes needed to get to a small patch of bald land where a black helicopter sat. It looked state-of-the-art and very expensive… just like everything Psalter’s team carried.

“Oh, it’s exhorbitent, but it’s yours,” Psalter said as we loaded on the chopper. “It’s custom-made based on the Black Hawk airframe. Retractable landing gear, reduced IR signature, EM masking, and the latest in rotor noise reduction. USSOC special order. I used to play bridge with the current Deputy Minister of Strategic Resources for Saudi Arabia. He helped me get a good deal. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to itemize everything on the invoice for you.”

Before I could respond, Psalter left me to talk to one of the crew as we lifted off, and my attention was suddenly split between the fact that Chloe and Shea were in danger and that I was now the proud owner of a state-of-the-art military-grade stealth helicopter.

“We should be there in a little less than ten minutes,” he said, returning to my side. “On the way, I’ll fill you in on our plans for taking the cabin.”

I nodded. Ten minutes was better than the three or more hours it had taken Chloe each day.

Hang in there, Chloe. We’re coming…

______