Ari left this morning, and it shockingly bothers the shit out of me. I’ve done this many times. A girl comes over, and we fuck. She leaves the next morning, or I do. But this wasn’t like many times. I’ve never not finished what I’ve started with a woman but last night was different, nevertheless.
I woke up with a hangover from hell. After Ari went to bed, I finished half a bottle of Jack Daniels alone. I sat in the dark, as the hurricane passed through, by my lit fireplace, drinking in silence. Sitting on the couch where I made Ari come with my mouth. She was sleeping upstairs, and I was heavily tempted to wake her up with my cock several times. I left her begging for more and it took everything in me to not take her innocence last night.
I watched the flames burn through the wood as I continued to serve myself glass after glass and it still wasn’t taking the edge off. The sound of thunder was the only thing keeping me company.
She’s Paul’s sister.
Fucking hell.
The morning brought clarity and I was losing myself again. The alcohol will no longer blur the battles I’ll endure for the rest of the day.
His death brought different types of demons over my head that I’ve never had. Call it survivor’s guilt but it was more than that. It felt more than that. I was there when he fucking died in my arms.
I can’t tell Ari this. I can’t tell her the details about how he died without feeling like the devil. I’d rather not live to see how she would react to such a gruesome memory. The story behind his death is something that very few know about. Only the people there on that mission that killed Paul knew.
As a team, we always refrain from telling families the details about their loved one’s death. There’s a protocol to it all and we couldn’t open our mouths about it. Not one single peep.
So, I drank. And drank more and more until I fucking couldn’t feel my own pain anymore, racking out on my couch, thinking about Ari’s sweet taste. She tastes so different from all the others. She is the forbidden fruit in my world and I’m the serpent in her ears, calling her name. I want to lure her into my world, but I would be a selfish asshole if I took her. Who am I kidding? I am a selfish asshole but the respect I have for Paul, draws the line.
It’s ten in the morning when I finish brushing my teeth. Nora’s already blowing up my phone and I’m getting irritated by her persistence. Yet, if she’s willing to scratch this itch of desire, I won’t say no. I decided to give in. Nora never minded the no strings attached nights we have together and that’s the way I like it. She isn’t the only woman I have this type of relationship with. There are others but lately, she’s more eager. I give in to Nora and set up plans with her, texting her back.
But If I can’t have Ari… no one will. I’m going to make sure of it in my own way. I had stopped myself from paying my respects to Paul’s family for a reason. I couldn’t look them in the eye without feeling like I had taken a part in destroying their lives. Still… I made a promise to Paul when he was alive.
And I had to keep it, better late than never… right?
It doesn’t matter. I won’t keep running away from the promise now, not after feeling this attraction I have for her.
I was already past the grieving stage, and I feel almost completely ridden from the looming guilt, and yet… when I found out Ari is his sister, all the healing comes to a halt.
I’m smoking on my front porch, scrolling through my phone since the work group chat is active with text messages going out. Everyone is hounding me for updates on the deployment since I’m the one everyone answers to. I’m the one in charge of my team so I have to give out orders and updates. The hurricane puts a delay in our departure and that disappointed everybody including me.
There’s one thing that gives me a reason to live. A reason to wake up every day with a purpose, and that was my job. Kill or be killed is the anthem of every single deployment. The hurricane kept us home just a little longer and the boys are eager to get back to work. So am I. It’s going to be another few days before we leave since we have to set up new traveling arrangements.
I refuse to let myself get distracted by this new feeling that erupts in my soul. And her name is Ari.
My gate alerts my phone that there’s someone trying to get through on my land and I open it to see my mother’s Range Rover requesting access through the cameras.
What’s she doing here?
I grant her access and watch the single road that’s in between the ever-green trees that block the view to my gate and the main road that leads into the city. While I wait for my mothers’ vehicle to emerge, I can’t help but wonder if she’s brought my father.
We haven’t spoken in years. Nothing more than greetings and farewells and there’s a good valid reason for the animosity.
Finally, my mother’s vehicle emerges and it’s just her. No one is in the passenger seat and I’m immediately relieved. I don’t have the energy to deal with my father. Just the sight of him makes my hands turn into fists.
My mother on the other hand is no different than my father but we carry our relationship on better terms. My parents are both cold and distant with me but my mother and I manage to keep in touch always.
The hangover’s kicking my ass, but I won’t show it. The Tylenol’s starting to kick in and my headache is starting to subside.
My mother parks her car and she quickly walks towards me. She has her Tom Ford sunglasses on and is dressed in all expensive clothing. My mother’s footing gives her a hard time as she walks across the yard to the porch. My parents are wealthy and yet I want nothing from them. Everything I have since I joined, I’ve earned from my career in the military.
‘Daniel.’ My mother’s heels stop short next to the chair next to mine as she greets me.
‘Mother,’ I say, taking another puff of my cigarette, my eyes squinting, adjusting to the sun rays behind her.
She whips her short blonde hair back over her shoulder and takes off her sunglasses, studying me. Her blue eyes pierce through me and I give her a sarcastic smile.
‘Are you not going to offer your mother one?’ She says pointing to the cigarette and taking a seat. I pull another cigarette out of the pack and hand it to her. I pass her a lighter too, clenching my jaw.
We sit in silence, smoking, enjoying the cool air and gray skies.
‘Daniel. When am I getting grandbabies? I’m not getting any younger. You aren’t either Daniel, you’re in your thirties. I’m entering my sixties you kn—’
I cut her off.
‘I know, Mother. I know.’
I’m cold and curt. I blow out smoke from my lungs in the opposite direction of my mother. The smoke flows into the air, lingering. She’s been pressuring me for grandkids recently and it’s out of nowhere. She never pries into my personal life but lately, she’s taken a particular interest in it, specifically grandchildren.
‘I would love to see my grand babies running around in the mansion. I’ve already started to baby-proof parts of the house, all we need is the little ones to fill it. You’re our only hope to carry the Rider name…’
‘Mother, respectfully, I will not be bringing any grand babies into this fucked up world,’ I growl. I stand up aggressively throwing the cigarette to the floor, putting it out under my boot. I meant it. My military career completely changes the way I thought about procreating. My work schedule and the way my career takes the utmost priority over everything deters me from even entertaining the idea of becoming a father. It’s not that I don’t like kids, I just don’t believe in bringing any of my own into this brutal world.
The evil that lives in this world is sickening. No one knows the extent of what I’ve seen besides my team and me. The stories, the horrid memories are engraved into my brain like poison. I work hard every single damn day to not let it get to me. And sometimes, it does.
Clearly, I self-medicate with my favorite addictions when I can.
Witnessing a terrorist group attack was one of the last straws for me. An evil terrorist group planted bombs and land mines on a children’s playground killing and injuring babies, kids, and families. Having to carry out blown-up innocent kids from a seesaw was one of the hardest moments of my career. Holding a four-year-old on the brink of death is a haunting memory that I remember like it was yesterday. Nausea rushes into my vision as the memory hits me, and I swallow. These poor kids lost their lives from a simple routine fun day they look forward to.
I walk towards the fence I have wrapped around my porch leaning my forearms on it, sighing.
‘Daniel, you haven’t been the same since… since… It’s been two months and I’m worried about you. Get help. Talk to someone if you won’t talk to me anymore.’ My jaw clenches and I know what she’s referring to.
‘He was my best friend. No matter what I do…’ I pause taking in a deep breath. The wind of the hurricane still lingers, and it feels good against my skin, watching it slither through the tall trees, making them sway across my land.
‘It won’t bring him back.’ I breathe. My mother is the only person that knows the details surrounding Paul’s death. She’s the only person I opened up to since it was required by my boss. I rejected the mandatory psychiatric therapy I was issued to take so, they made sure I was talking to someone about it.
‘Daniel, it wasn’t your fault son. And you know this. You know that. Stop torturing yourself because Paul wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for something that was out of your control.’
She’ doesn’t get it but I won’t talk about it any further. I’ve lost several brothers in the forces on deployments, but Paul’s passing hits me harder because it was my fault. His blood spilled on my hands and just that memory alone, makes it difficult to move on.
I sigh, brushing my beard down with my hand. I need to let this guilt, fully go. I was better than I had ever been before. Two months have passed, and I’ve gone from constant insomnia, bar hopping, one-night stands, and drinking until I was numb to being able to sleep again without needing whiskey or random women. Last night was the first night in a while that I’ve divulged in my old ways because of her. Because of Ari. She brings a lot of emotions I’ve deserted and ran from and I hate her for it.
It’s irrational for me to blame her for coming into my life and ripping open a healing wound. But I’m not a rational man. I need to stay away from her. I fucking hate the effect she has on me. It’s detrimental to my journey of going back to my old ways before Paul passed. I like the way I am. I’m accustomed to the simplicity of my life.
Work, train, eat, drink, sleep, repeat. And Ari threatens that.
I need to stay away from her and yet… I don’t want to.
And I hate that even more.
‘You need to come visit us more often. Your father needs his hunting buddy again. Get him away from me for a couple of hours.’ She chuckles.
‘You know I don’t have time. And I’d rather spend my days off at home. Plus, I already do… other kinds of hunting.’ I smirk trying to hide the darkness looming in my voice. She knows I’m referring to my job. My mother’s aware of what I experience but I spare her from all the gruesome, graphic details.
My mother sighs in defeat.
‘Well, it’s good to know your sick sense of humor is still intact.’
