Page 9 of Service and Sacrifice
They sat in silence for a few minutes, thesun growing more intense overhead and baking through her thinshirt. She could only imagine how hot he had to be in the jacket,but he didn’t move, didn’t give any indication of discomfort.
“It’s weird, you know?” She didn’t look athim. “There’s a grasshopper, right there on your toe, and it didn’texist last year when I was here. That bird”—she gestured towards astarling hopping along two rows over—“probably didn’t either. Notlast year, much less the last time Martin was breathing and home.”She sighed. “I lost the house he bought. Did I tell you that?” Hemade a soundandshe nodded in embarrassedadmission. “He loved it a lot, had all these plans in his head. Itwas okay, not my dream home, but it sure was his. He would havebeen so mad at me.”
“Why would he have been pissed?” She glancedat him to see his head back, closed eyes aimed towards the sky.“Gonna be blunt here, Amanda. He’s the one dead, not you. You hadto make decisions that were right for you. Keeping a house that youdidn’t want in the first place would have been stupid.” His headrolled to the side,andhe cracked open oneeye, his gaze cutting. “You don’t strike me as a stupid woman.”
She stared at him as he resumed hissunbathing. “Aren’t you hot?”
“Yeah, but I ain’t got no shirt on under thejacket. Figured it was the least of bad choices to just keep iton.” The same headroll,same crackedeye, and he was staring at her again. “If itwon’t bother you, then I’ll lose the jacket for now.”
“It won’t bother me.” She laughed softly. “Iappreciate your consideration, but I’d rather know you werecomfortable.”
“Alrighty then.” He sat up and shrugged, theworn leather falling easily down his arms,andshestared, and stared, drinking in the sightof him. He was covered in tattoos. Front, back, arms, neck,everything she could see had ink either on or adjacent. The one onthe side of his neck she’d seen before, a glimpse that first day atthe gas station, a moment so far in the past it seemed surreal thatit had brought them here. He had a winged eagle that spanned hisshoulders, talons reaching far down his spine, the head wrappingcunningly around one scapula. His arms were a mixed canvas of tinytattoos and larger pieces, all intertwined with vines and words andcolors that probably meant something to him but looked likebeautiful chaos to her. One pec held a replica of the emblem fromthe back of the jacket, and she noted how it was reverentlyseparate from other tattoos. Set apart somehow by being isolated,and she liked that he gave it a place of honor. His abs flexed, andshe tried to read the words arching over his bellybutton in betweenhis stuttering breaths, finally giving up as she realized he waslaughing. “Woman, you get your fill of lookin’ yet?”
She stared at his face because his smile wasblindingly bright, eyes twinkling at her as he gently poked fun ather scrutiny of his body.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” She turned to face theheadstone as he got to his feet, then cast a glance over hershoulder at a sound, afraid it was him leaving, but he’d justdraped the jacket across the seat. Foldedsothe symbol for his club was hidden from view, he took a moment toensure it was stable and wouldn’t fall on the ground. “Is it likethe flag?” He glanced back at her with a question in his eyes. “Thejacket. It’s your club insignia, right? Are you not supposed to putit on the ground?”
He smiled, but it was somehowcautious,as if she were treading along the edges ofsomething that wasn’t her business. “Yeah, something like that.What do you know about a motorcycle club?”
She shook her head with a laugh. “Just whatI’ve watched on TV.”
“So, not much,” he teased with a grin as hesat back down, closer to her than before by inches. She watched themuscles in his arms and back play under the skin, mesmerized at themovement underneath the colorful pictures. After a few moments, heasked, “You everridden?”
“What?” She blinked and shook her head. “Uh,no. No.”
“Lemme know if you wanna change thatstatus.” For a moment, she fixated on the social media status she’dimpulsively changed a couple of days ago, just prior to acceptinghis friendship. He narrowed his eyes and clarified. “From nonridertorider.”
Of course he didn’t mean relationship,you idiot. He’s married.
She whipped her head back to the side andstared at Martin’s name etched in stone. It was engraved in thewedding band she no longer wore, too.
That had been the first change, about a yearand a half ago. She’d gotten out of the shower and picked it up toslip onto her finger, where it had ridden since Martin had placedit there standing in front of his friends and family. She’dhesitated, then set it back down in the little tray she kept in thebathroom for that purpose. After it remained there a month, she’dmoved it to her nightstand, and after weeks there, to her jewelrybox, tucked back into the foam and velvet alongside her impracticalengagement ring.
She’d done it without much thought, justaccepting it as a change and moving on. Now she wondered if itmeant more. If it had been her first unconscious decision to beginmovingforwardsand out of the stasis she’dbeen caught in since his death.
“Amanda?” Alex’s question was cautious,careful. “Did I say something wrong?” She shook her head. “Are yousure?” That one she simply didn’t answer, keeping her blurry gazeon the stone, no longer able to pick out Martin’s name. “Oh,honey.” If she hadn’t been weeping before, the sweet pain in Alex’svoice would have caused it. “Come here.” Then he gathered her up inhis arms, like he’d done before, and arranged her in his lap. Thistime it wasn’t leather under her cheek, but warm muscles covered bysilken skin. She closed her eyes to block it out. Block everythingout. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She couldn’t have answered him if she’dtried, throat closed tight with tears and regret. If she couldhave, she would have told him it wasn’t Martin’s death that causedher to weep but the impossibility of building anything with Alexhimself.So stupid.
“Lost one of my soldiers to an IED. Yearsago. There wasn’t enough to put in a box to send home to his folks.Hands down, that was the hardest call I had to make, firstnotification I had to do. I got home in time to go to his funeral,a memorial service, and they had pictures of him everywhere. Helpedme to see what he was, before.” The sound of his heart steadiedher, a regular bump, bump, bump in her ear. “Caught up to hisgirlfriend a couple of months ago. She’s married now, two kids, agood life, you know?” The thudding sped up slightly. “She looked atme for a single momentandI could see it allcrashing back down on her. My fault for being in the grocery store.My fault for being someone who’d known him. Her face went white,and I swear she was just a minute from passin’ out.” The thuddingwas faster yet, and then his hand settled on her back. She sighedand nestled closer, and his heartbeat evened back out, slowing tothe same steady thump, thump from before. “I told her how good itfelt to see her honoring him by living her life. Not sure shebelieved me right away, but I said it again, and again. How itisn’t right to lock up the sweetness that’s still here and holdtight to that bitterness of loss. I think that’s something you needto hear, too.” He adjusted his hold on her, the underside of hisforearm banding across the side of her breast, and just thatinnocent touch was enough to make her stomach swoop and dip. “It’sokay to live, Amanda. It’s okay to want things that you didn’t havetogether. It’s not going to change anything if you stay stuck.Well, it will. It’ll change you, but not for the better. So if youwant to try new things like ridin’ on a bike, you just let me knowandI’ll tell you it’s okay, and normal, andmakes me happy. That’s you bein’ strong, and that’s a good thing tosee.”
“You’re married.” She winced at the wordsbursting from her traitor mouth, blurting things she had nointention of saying.
“What? No.NoI’m not.”His arms tightened around her, wrapped tight as he could withoutcrushing her. “Not for years now.” She didn’t argue, let him havethis denial, and felt the change in his body when he realized whatshe meant. “Oh, fuck. Honey, no. She divorced me long before I leftthe military. Hated being left alone, and what she got of me wasn’tenough for what she needed. Then I got out and, hell, I’m sodifferent. There ain’t no way I’d put up with her shit now. Plus,she’s married again. I just never changed it because…fuck, I don’tknow. It would make a statement, you know? Put a pin in it, andeveryone would know. I mean, they already know, but I just didn’t…”He shifted under her,andshe went with thejostling, letting him roll to one hip and then back.
From the corner of hereye,she watched him shuffle his phone hand to hand, thenwrap the empty one around her again as he worked on the device withthe other. “There,” he said with finality, bringing the screencloser. She blinked. Status: Single.
“Alex.” She started to say something, notsure what, but certain her traitor mouth would come up with whatshe needed.
He shook his head. “Nuh uh. You hush, now.That’s not for you, that’s for me. Swear.” A repeat of the movementas he put the phone away. Then he had both arms around her again.“For me.”
His heart beat steadily underneath hercheek, reassuring her that this hadn’t been traumatizing, that hewasn’t conflicted, that it didn’t matter to him, except how itmattered to her.
Eleven
Monk
The sun was edging towards the west,andstill,they sat. Theskin on his shoulders had tightened with a burn he knew he’d feellater, but damn, the way she’d looked at him would be worth anynumber of inconveniences like a little sunburn. She’d eaten him upwith her eyes, and thank God she’d been stuck on all his baredskin, because he’d popped much more than a stiffy, every part ofhim puffing up under her regard.
