“Bite your tongue. I plan on gettin’ her pregnant. With two rugrats, I can beat this thing.”
I doubt that, but don’t say so. Every man needs to cling to hope, no matter how far-fetched.
After I hang up, I call in favors and pace. Done praying, I research the maximum range of a typical small plane. She’ll have to skim the trees to make the ten-hour flight on one tank. Flying on no sleep and in an unknown craft, she’ll be lucky to make it.
Dammit. The more I Google, the more I worry.
Although it’s nothing related to why I hired him, I call Despairado, and send him my intel. Then I ask him to instruct my hacker team to find my girlfriend.
“On it, boss. By the time you touch down, I’ll have pics of every pimple on their hairy butts.”
“Thanks for the visual.”
“No problem. Talk later.” Snickering, he signs off.
Chapter 6
Lanita
About an hour into the flight, I give up. Either Yule Brenner’s doppelganger doesn’t understand English, or he’s unwilling to talk. Regardless, ten hours is a hell of a long flight, especially without coffee.
Using hand signals, I try to indicate I need a pit stop, and right this minute.
“Nyet.” Easy for him to say. He pissed in a water bottle not long ago.
“Listen dude, womanly parts are not a garden hose.” I hate to use the diaper, but he’s the one holding the gun.
Time goes by and having no other choice, I pee in the hi-tech gel underwear.
Ewww.
Later, I ponder long and hard about how I got here. For sure, I should’ve asked for help. Why didn’t I, then? More importantly, do I ever reach out? Am I so determined to be a badass and not a victim, I act recklessly?
Self-reflection is vastly overrated. It doesn’t make me feel better. In fact, as the night surrounds me, my mental box cracks open, and the Pink Elephant Paradox begins anew. I try not to remember the attack, and because I am so determined, it’s all I can think about.
Like my therapist taught me, I take deep breaths and let the onslaught of memories begin. First, I’m asleep in my bunk, dreaming of a boulder falling, wondering if I crash-landed.
Fuck this.I do not need or want to recall the details of an incident that took place over two years ago.
Sure, you do.My bitch of a subconscious takes control, and I’m back in my bunk where my commanding officer holds me down.
“Don’t make a sound.” Oozing cheap whiskey, he cups my breast, and I struggle like mad to break free.
After that, my memories get hazy until Kade pulls him off. I do recall the unmistakable scent of furniture polish and sweat. In a courtroom of my peers, the biker reports the truth under oath. The rest of my team claims the sex appeared consensual.
“Guilty.” The military judge, a just man in his forties, reads the verdict.
Those who served with me, some whose lives I saved, shake their heads in disgust, and not at my commanding officer.
Clearly, despite the ruling, my career had ended, so I took the honorable discharge, as did Kade.
Tears well. If not for my friend’s testimony, I wouldn’t have dared to stand up to a veteran Marine, a fucking dad, and a so-called devoted family man. Perhaps, had he been younger, or single, my peers would not have made me the bad guy. Hard to say, though…
I recall the silent treatment. Even enlisted women turned their backs on me. I later learned that they figured, if they could survive the typical abuse in our military, why couldn’t I?
I had the balls to make the Marines look bad and there is no worse crime, not even violent sexual assault.
At the incessant beep of an alarm, my eyes pop open, and I turn off autopilot. I must’ve drifted off. Tapping the gas gauge, I adjust the Cessna to a lower altitude, and sigh.
