“I don’t want to live in a country with a brittle spirit, I want to live amongst soldiers.”—Dave Chappelle
Ten years later
Sean
My phone buzzes again on the nightstand, and I silence it and lift to sit stretching my neck.
“Jesus,” Tessa groans, burrowing deeper into her pillow. “Is that French son of a bitch not aware there’s a time difference?”
“He doesn’t care.”
“I’ll be calling his wife to air my issues.”
“Might not want to if you still want to vacation there again this summer.”
I run my hands along the fading wings on her back and turn her over, and she groans as I push her champagne blonde hair away from her face. Her blue eyes narrow with a clear grudge.
“They’ll be back soon. And things will calm down.”
“Like that means anything with your work schedule.”
I lean down and kiss her, and she draws me to her as I slide my hand down her body, appreciating the difference between now and when we met. She’s given me three children and fifteen of the best years of my life. She still puts up with my shit and welcomes me home with open arms, asking me for zero explanation. She deepens our kiss, and my cock springs to life in my boxers.
“Woman, don’t start anything I can’t finish.”
“Then finish,” she taunts, drawing me deep into her. I lose myself briefly before reluctantly closing our kiss.
“Hold that thought,” I whisper before drawing on her lips once more. When I pull away, I see the familiar worry that I’ve drawn out of her too many times to count.
“Good night or bad night?”
“Not sure.”
“Come back to me.”
“I will,” I try to assure her, but make no promises. She’s aware of the trade, so she doesn’t ask for any.
“You’re going to be an old man one day, and then what?”
I grab a smoke from my pack and strike my Zippo. “We’ll do old people shit.”
“I said you, not me. And if you light that in this house, I’ll put a bullet in you before anyone else can.”
Closing my lighter, I ditch my cigarette and stand, pulling my jeans with me. She stretches out, tossing off the comforter, fully naked, knowing what it does to me. “You’re cruel, baby.”
She shrugs, a sleepy smile on her face. “I love you.”
“I know.”
I pull on a T-shirt and slide into my boots before I hit the safe in our closet. I grab my Glock and creep into the kitchen, using the porch light to check the magazine. When the kitchen light flips on, I turn to see my son watching me carefully.
I drop my head. “Fuck.”
“I’m fourteen, Dad. I’ve known for a while you aren’t just a mechanic.” He walks toward me and nods toward the gun.
“And Jesus was just a carpenter and a messenger who washed feet. Look at what they did to him. Everyone needs protection. Go back to bed, Dominic.”
He jerks his chin, a gesture so familiar it gives me pause, and I swear I hear his predecessor laughing at me from wherever he is. But this version of Dom looks a hell of a lot like me with dirty blond hair, my eyes, and on bad days, my attitude.
“You know better than to question me.”
“Dad, please, I’m old enough.”
“Go to bed.”
With that order, I step out onto the porch and light my cigarette, and sigh when I hear the creak of the screen door behind me.
“I’m fucking scared, okay? I don’t know what you do when you leave at night or if you’ll come back.”
“Language.”
“Mom’s not here. And you’re fluent in fucks to give.”
“Monkey needs to neither see nor do.” I inhale the smoke deeply, swearing this pack is my last.
“She gets up the minute you leave, you know, and she paces until she sees you pull back up. Then she plays possum.”
I do know, and guilt eats me raw as I exhale.
He sits down beside me on the steps, nearly dwarfing my height as I crack my neck. I knew this day would come. I just didn’t think it would come so early.
I look over to him as my own eyes plead with me, unbelieving of just how much of myself I see.
I run my knuckles over his head, and he shakes me off. “You’re too smart for your own good. This isn’t something I want for you.”
“If it’s good enough for you, it is for me. Dad, please, just tell me what this is.”
I pull my cell from my pocket and begin to type out a text.
“Whatever,” he grumbles and stands before turning toward the door.
“Grab your shoes,” I order as I read the reply.
Family first.
“Sir?”
“And the next time you whatever me will be your last.”
He flashes me a smile. “Where are we going?”
“For a drive.”
He’s back in less than a minute and flies out the door with his shoes untied. Once we’re in the car, Tessa steps on the porch with her arms crossed. From the driver’s door, I stare at her for a long minute with the question in my eyes, and she hesitates before she slowly nods in reply.
Trust and permission.
My love for her only grows, and I swear then and there that I’ll do whatever it takes to show her how much I need her, to continue to never make her pay for choosing me, or the life we have. But it all comes down to decisions.
But for now, I still have a part to play.
Dom bristles at my side as I pull out onto the abandoned road and turn on the radio. I drive for endless miles before he begins to stare at the side of my head.
“Dad, we can go for a drive anytime,” he reminds me as I try to hold my smile.
“It’s a decision.”
“What is?”
“To drive right now. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I can sense his deepening frown in my peripheral vision. “I guess.”
“There you go.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“Shit,” he sighs, slumping in his seat. “You go driving with a loaded pistol at night? This is the big secret? Pretty anticlimactic.”
“I was your age when it started.”
“That’s some epic tale, Dad.”
“That mouth of yours,” I glance his way, giving him a look reserved for few, “can you keep it shut?”
When he remains quiet for several minutes, I pull over and put the car in park. We idle on the side of the road, gazing on at the black outline of the mountains in the night sky. I turn toward him in the seat. “I guess what I’m really asking is, can you keep a secret?”
THE END