(A British Bad BOY Fiona Garland - ENGLISH IMPATIENT ) ang

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The characters featured in this story are fictional with no relation with any persons alive or dead. All events depicted in this story are fictional and any similarities to the real world are purely coincidental. Any and all references to trademarks are covered under fair use. This book is intended for adults. It contains mature depictions of violence, sex, and profanity. Please avoid reading further if you are not at least eighteen years of age or find this type of work uncomfortable.

Table of Contents

Bonus Story

I needed to stop.

The pain had gotten worse. The physical kind I could deal with. That kind came in like waves crashing against the rocks. It would be red hot and then fade with time. I could block out that kind of pain. I had even gotten good at it.

Sex and liquor did their duty in sharing the burden.

The other kind was a different story. I felt a ringing in my head like hammer drilling into the base of my skull. It forced to take off the bedsheets and face the light.

“What the bloody hell is that noise,” I groaned, suppressing a yawn. A man could never live in peaceful debauchery in this country, “It’s like a damn woodpecker on hooch. I’m going to nut that fucker.”

A soft, feminine body moved beside me. “I think that’s your phone.”

“I set that sodding thing to silent mode yesterday,” I grumbled in frustration. “I don’t need bad news ruining my good times.”

The woman spoke again. “No, it’s the landline phone.”

“Son of a bitch,” I said, stirring my body awake. The woman beside me felt like a pillow of meat. Then again, that’s

what I brought her home for. My cock had gotten quite the workout. “I got it.”

That damn noise had to stop.

I reached over to the phone and saw that my bedmate was a sleepy redhead. I could’ve sworn I came in with a brunette. “Who the hell are you?”

“You dropped by with my roommate and picked me up,” the brunette grumbled, looking half-awake. “She left in the middle of the night. I think she left her cardigan here.”

“Explains why you changed your hair color and went up a cup size.”

The girl got up and rubbed her eyes. “You have a nice house. It could use some cleaning though.”

“And you have a delightful pair of tits but your bum could use a bit of heft,” I teased. It won me a glare. “We can’t all be perfect.”

The phone rang again.

There was no point in delaying business. I sighed and said. “I’ll get it.”

The woman rubbed her eyes. “Um… can you give a ride?”

I smirked at her. “You mean a lift?”

“Whatever, I just need to get home,” she said. “This place is in the middle of nowhere,”

“It’s just a thirty minute walk before you reach civilization. The exercise will do you good.”

She cursed under her breath and went back to sleep.

I picked up the phone and immediately heard the voice of my butler. Or personal assistant as he preferred. “Alan, are you awake?”

“In a manner of speaking, Winston,” I grumbled to my personal henchman. “It’s been a month since I crossed the pond. The jetlag still hasn’t worn off. What is it now?”

I heard him sigh like a disappointed father. “Are you whoring and drinking again, sir?”

“I didn’t whore around,” I said in my feeble defense. I knew his heart was in the right place. “No, money was exchanged. And this was my last drink. I swear it this time!”

I could almost imagine Winston groaning and palming his face. “I’ve heard that last line before.”

The girl spoke again. “Can I get money for the bus at least?”

“No trolley service around these parts, love,” I answered, before returning to the phone “So what’s this call about?”

His answer roused my body awake. “I’ve found your nurse.”

As much as I hated to admit it, I needed a member of the holy sisterhood of the stethoscope to help me. I was on a collision course with death. I at least owed it to myself to not take anyone else down with me.

It was the sensible thing to do

I needed someone I could trust. Someone who I could count onto put me back together again after I fell off the wall like Humpty Dumpty. Someone who wouldn’t give up on me after I did.

Then again, no one could put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

I needed to stop before I destroyed myself.

“Great… who is it, Winston?”

“Miss Elizabeth Sears,” began the electronic crackle of the prerecorded message. “We appreciate your interest but at this time-”

I hit end button on the phone and slammed it in its cradle. It was a stupid thing to do considering it was my only phone connection. I had to cancel my cell phone since I couldn’t afford to pay

the bills.

Another day, another rejection.

The news in the mail wasn’t much better. I had applied for an opening in a nearby hospital. I looked at the beginning of the letter. “To whom it may concern…”

They didn’t even have the courtesy to type out my name when they rejected me this, “Damn, it.”

I crumpled up the boilerplate rejection letter informing me of the hospital’s decision. I would not be working as a nurse at their hospital. I will not be able to supplement my meagre income. I would not be able to put my nursing license to actual use. I would not be able to pay the rent and take care of my only living family member.

I almost wanted to cry but I had shed all my tears a year ago. One after another, my parents had died two years ago. My mother had always been a sickly woman. Her heart finally gave out

in spite of all of our hopes. My dad was already an emotionally wounded man from time in the Iraq War.

Mom’s death pushed him over the edge.

It left me to take care of my teenage sister, Sally. We didn’t have any immediate family members who could help us. She was still a minor and I’d be damn if I let the state take her in. I was afraid I would lose Sally to a foster home or some halfway house. I even dropped out of medical school to gain custody of her.

Now, I wouldn’t even be able to pay the rent and keep a roof over her head.

That isn’t to say I won custody without a hitch. Back then, I was a college student that had pursued a nursing degree. It would’ve made me into a registered nurse. As opposed to being a licensed nurse, I could be more hands-on as a registered nurse. It would come with a sizeable bump in pay.

I was the top of my class and the future looked bright. I had loads of

experience dating back to my high schools years. I had volunteered at the local hospital. I had even volunteered at the local Veteran Affairs office due to my dad fighting in the war.

After the death of my parents, I left college to take care of Sally. It was tough becoming a full-fledged adult so quickly. Each month there more and more bills to pay. I worked two jobs to make ends meet. Neither of them involved nursing. Licensed nurses are a dime a dozen and they’re just so many jobs to go around.

Instead, I did odd jobs to pay the bills. I worked as a cashier at a small clothing store some days. Other days, I waited tables at fast casual restaurants. The pay was lousy and the tips weren’t any better. You would’ve never have guessed I had been on the fast track to becoming a decorated nurse.

Now, I was on the fast-track to declaring bankruptcy. Worse, I was becoming a terrible parental figure. Two jobs meant little time for Sally.

This was what upset me the most. In spite of what I told myself, my

commitment to my job led me to neglect Sally. I was seeing less and less of her. We couldn’t even be together on weekends because of my jobs. I was working so hard to keep a home which I barely lived in. I was destroying the family I swore to protect.

The phone rang and broke me out of my somber thoughts. I didn’t bother answering it. It would just be another credit card offer I couldn’t afford with my abysmal credit score. A part of me wondered when I’d have to disconnect the phone due to a lack of money.

It was time break the bad news to Sally.

I gave a glance at our apartment. The place had fallen into disarray. The carpet was matted and held several stains. Dust had settled on the furniture.

I was normally a diligent cleaner. My two jobs changed that. I was exhausted the moment I got home. Sally had tried to do her part but I always made sure she concentrated on her studies. I’d rather the house deteriorate rather than her grades. I had left college so that she could have a future.

There were several keepsakes littered throughout the rooms as well. Sally and I didn’t have the heart to throw out some of my parents’ belongings. My father’s tennis equipment and my mother’s knitting collection congested our already small living space.

Drying my tears, I turned around and entered Sally’s room. I didn’t want her to see me like this. I also didn’t want to hear to know bad things were. Sally’s room was the one that changed the least since our parents’ deaths. We used to share it until I went off to college. I now

slept in my parents’ room. It always brought a smile to my face to see its walls full of posters of teenage boy bands and cute actors.

I always hated to have bad news intrude upon good times.

I masked my sorrow and asked. “Have you finished your homework yet, Sally?”

“I did it two hours ago,” she answered, sensing something was wrong. Nothing got past her. “Are we

going to get kicked out of the apartment?”

I cursed to myself. She had always been a precocious child. Now, she was an intelligent if rebellious teenager. Of course Sally would piece everything together. Besides, it wasn’t as if my months of fruitless job searching went unnoticed.

“A lot of changes are going to happen,” I admitted, sitting next to her. Tears welled up again in my eyes. I knew that the social workers would take her. They would give her a better life. It

would be for the best. “You’ll have to live in new home. It’ll be bigger and better than this one. You’ll have a bigger room than you’ll know what to do with.”

I shouldn’t have gotten misty-eyed. It was a greenlight for her to cry as well. “But I don’t want to leave you!”

“We’ll still get to see each other,” I said. Tears began to streak down her face as well. “I will never leave you. I will always be a part of your life. You know that.”

“I can work,” she sobbed. The statement hurt me. I was ashamed to have let things get this bad. “There’s an opening at the supermarket in downtown. I can get a job there as a cashier.”

“Don’t be silly,” I consoled. “I’ve been only delaying inevitable and I’ve made you suffer for it.”

“What will you do?” she cried. I dried her eyes with my sleeve. “Will you still work? I don’t want you to work anymore. We barely even see each other!”

“I’ll go back to college,” I said out of the blue. I hadn’t given college any serious thought. I had thought about finishing up my nursing degree with night classes. However, time and money prevented it. “This will help me get a good job instead of two lousy ones. Then, we can spend more time together. You’ll be happier living in a nice big house with-”

“I don’t care about a new house or a big room,” she said, rushing up to hug me. I hugged her back reflexively. “I want to be with you. I don’t want them to take me from you.”

The phone went off again. Whoever it was, they were persistent. “Stay here, I’ll answer it.”

I picked up the phone and waited to hear another pre-recorded message. I didn’t know if it would be another rejection. I had lost count of how many nursing positions I had applied for.

“Miss Sears,” said a distinctly British voice. To my shock, it was an actual living human being. “I have a job offer for you.”

“Who are you?” said the woman with a bit of venom in her voice. Winston had chosen a feisty one. “How did you get my number?”

I thumbed over the photo of her in the file. The only thing remarkable about her looks was how unremarkable she looked. At least I could count on not sleeping with her. Normally, that wasn’t

something you looked for in a medical assistant but I had my vices to consider.

“Can I call you, Elizabeth, madam?” I asked. I didn’t know why I was working my charm for a woman I had no interest in bedding. “I’m looking for a medical assistant to work with me on a personal basis. A nurse, if you will. I understand you have volunteer experience in working with both alcoholics and war veterans.”

“Most people call me Beth,” she said, changing her tone. I might have played my hand too early with by talking

about her volunteer experience. “I’ll ask again, how did you get my number? And just who are you, anyway?”

I had expected a woman desperate for a job offer. Instead, I met a flurry of questions and suspicions about my motives. You’d think someone in her situation would think of me as an angel descending from the heavens. I may have begun to lose my touch. “I believe a proper introduction is in order, Beth. My name is Alan Zachary Esq. Since we are on a first name basis, please call me Alan.”

There was a brief pause. I doubted that anyone across the pond had heard of me. “You said you were looking for a nurse?”

“Yes, I require a private nurse who will work on-site,” I answered. “You will be required to do daily checkups and monitor my health. Try not to let me croak before my time. It’s simple as that.”

I can always see her eyes narrow in mistruth in my mind’s eye. “What made you consider me instead of a more established practitioner?”

“Your grades were very impressive,” I answered. It wasn’t a lie since Beth had been the top of her class. She was a prodigy even from what Winston had gathered from her professors. “I can tell talent when I see it.”

“Why not hire a professional with a specialization?” she inquired again. “It sounds like you’ve done your homework on me. You should know I’m not even a registered nurse.”

Now this was interesting. A woman who could bite back. Now I knew I had to meet her in person at the very least. “Due to the sensitive nature of the arrangement, I am unwilling to go through the traditional avenues. Nevertheless, you will be well compensated for your work.”

That last statement had been my verbal right hook. I loved making people an offer they couldn’t refuse. It was one of the few pleasures in life now that I refrained from actual fisticuffs. “Can you at least tell me what the job entails, Mr. Zachary?”

“Again, I’d like to refrain from discussing the particulars until we met in person. How about a preliminary meeting where we get to know each other?”

I knew I had Beth on the ropes. She would take janitorial work if I offered it. “A job interview then?”

“If you can call it that,” I replied. “You can do a check up on me. We’ll get a good idea of how this relationship will work out. Is that acceptable?”

This had to pique her interest. “You sound like an Englishman, Mr. Zachary.”

“Why thank you!” I said in mock gratitude. “I do lay it on thick sometimes. What of my accent, Beth?”

There was a brief pause before she spoke. “Is the job located in England?”

“No, it’s located much closer to your home,” I answered. God knows I wasn’t going back there until things quieted down in the British Army. Or I died and

had to be brought in for a funeral. I honestly didn’t know which scenario I preferred. “An hour’s drive is all it would take.”

“Who are you, Mr. Zachary?” she asked. I imagined her heart racing as though she just won the lottery. Then again, she may have just done that. “Are you some high-powered businessman? Or royalty?”

‘High-powered businessman’ sounded much better than ‘alcoholic soldier turned drunken venture capitalist.’

I had more wealth than the woman could dream of. Nevertheless, I wanted an unbiased opinion. I’ve gotten tired of ‘yes-men’ looking to collect another paycheck for a clean bill of health. “Think of me as just another patient. Call me Alan.”

“What will the compensation be, Alan?”

I almost wanted to laugh.

“Enough that you won’t have to worry about money ever again,” I answered. “You can focus on your job… assuming we go forward with the arrangement.”

The idea of having money and being able to spend it must have been alien to her. I’ve met her kind before in my line of work. Rich or poor, they always saw the world in terms of a price tag. The rich kind were the worst. They’ll haggle a few thousand off a sodding million dollar contract.

Me? I could not have given even less

of a damn. It was the one thing that had gotten me ahead of my competitors.

I was much focused on effectiveness and other more tangible factors. Price, especially petty amounts, had little importance for me. I’ve worked with people who squabbled over every halfpenny. They’d push back inking a deal just to save a few thousand dollars. All the while, the meetings were costing a small fortune in transportation and catering. It made me miss the predictability of military life.

Life was too short to act like a miser

for every single transaction you came across. Chances were that my life would be even shorter. For importantly, you sell the same way you buy. If you look for the best price, then you sell assuming your customer looks for the best price. You wait on nailing down that deal and that person will walk straight into someone like me.

I wondered what Beth was like.

Then again, I’d find out soon enough. “Can you take a leave of absence from your two jobs?”

Again, she paused. “How do you know about that, Alan?”

“Why don’t you ask me in person?” I teased. “How about you come to me tomorrow? I can arrange transportation.”

She hesitated. “I have work tomorrow.”

“Is losing a day at a minimum wage job, pardon me, two minimum wage jobs worth losing a chance to become my personal physician?” I chastised with a

grin. She couldn’t see it but my tone set the message. “You’re the one who’ll have to answer that question.”

There was a long pause before Beth spoke. “Just let me call work and arrange for Sally, my sister, to stay with a neighbor. Do you have a bus service around where you’re staying? My car’s in the shop…”

I loved it when negotiations were fruitful. “I’ll send Wilson ferry you.”

“Nothing is set in stone, Sally,” I said. Her enthusiasm was infectious but I didn’t want to turn into a zombie craving hope. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

I should have taken my own advice. I needed to get this job. I had already burnt bridges with my previous employers by taking a day off. It was now all or nothing with Alan Zachary.

“This sounds really, exciting,” Sally replied. “Just who is this guy, anyway?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” I sighed. I hadn’t found out anything about who this Alan Zachary was exactly. According to the internet, the only Alan Zachary in the area was a seventy year old car salesman. I hoped I wasn’t falling for some elaborate prank. “He had a British accent and kept calling me by my first name like he already knew me.”

“He sounds like Hannibal Lector,” she mused, helping me with my makeup. This was an interview like any other. “Try not to get eaten, sis.”

“I’ll do my best,” I smiled. “You’ll be with Ms. Jacobs. No argument. And no telling me how you’re not a little kid anymore and don’t need a babysitter.”

Call me paranoid but I wasn’t going to take any chances after the death of my parents. Sally was the one thing in my life I had worked so hard to protect. I knew I would have to let her grow up one day. I always wondered if that was

how mom and dad felt about me growing up and becoming an adult.

I never had a chance to ask them.

Sally rolled her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know why you think I’m going to burn the house down with me in it if you leave me alone for five minutes. Just come back before she makes me eat chicken livers for dinner.”

She wasn’t a big fan of the elderly Ms. Jacobs. The woman was downright batty at times. Nonetheless, she was the

only person in the complex who offered to look after the young teenager.

Whoever this Alan Zachary was, he was at least letting me travel in style. An elderly Scottish man arrived in a BMW to give me a ride. His name was Winston and he seemed to be Mr. Zachary’s righthand man.

I sat back in the cushy leather seat and asked the man. “Where are we going?”

He gave a curt response. “To Mr.

Zachary.”

I figured I wouldn’t get any of my questions answered.

“What does he want from me?” I asked. “He said would be an interview but he didn’t get into specifics.”

“I can’t say.”

This was like pulling teeth. I had worked with dementia patients that were

more cooperative. “You can’t say or you won’t say?”

“I can’t say.”

I sat down and smoothed out the wrinkles in my clothing. I had decided to be a bit more fashionable than professional in my wardrobe choice. I wore a white blouse and black mini skirt from my college days. It was a real blast from the past. It could have used a bit of ironing but it was still in good condition. I rounded it out with some heels which propped me up by a couple inches. It certainly made me feel younger after

months of acting like a parent.

I figured that this Alan Zachary wasn’t interested in anything traditional or professional. From what little I knew, he was a man with money. Alan had enough money to buy me a ride in a luxury car with a chauffeur. He could easily buy an accomplished nurse or doctor. He was looking for someone different.

I just didn’t know what exactly.

I turned and admired the scenery. We

were getting well into countryside. We were off the asphalt and on the dirt road. Although we passed some buildings, I could tell we were far away from civilization as you can get from urban America.

Where was he taking me?

I found out soon enough.

When we arrived at Mr. Zachary’s place, I was shocked at the sight of it. It was an old moss covered mansion made of pinewood and stone. I didn’t think we

had a building such as this within the county limits. I could make out a couple of large water wells in the back. A mix of metal and wood fencing rounded out the exterior. All the enhancements and extensions seemed like a natural improvement over the original foundation.

“I figured he would live in a tacky McMansion,” I said, still I awe of the house. I estimated that there were well over three dozen rooms. “He must be really loaded. And very British considering his taste in houses.”

“He wanted to see you alone,” said Mr. Winston, staying in the car. “These were his instructions.”

“What!” I exclaimed. I didn’t look forward to going into an old mansion alone. No matter how expensive it looked. “You didn’t tell me this.”

“Please go,” he said with nervousness in his tone. “Mr. Zachary is not a patient man. I will wait here until you return.”

I groaned as I approached the

entrance. The gate screeched as I opened it. This had been a bizarre day full of ups and downs. I just wanted this to be over with. I followed the cobblestone pathway to the entrance.

While it was still a beautiful mansion, I noticed it had undergone some wear and tear. Paint had begun to peel away. The wood paneling of the house looked chipped. The front door appeared as though it would fall off its hinges.

“Hello,” I said, softly knocking on the door. Even with that soft tap, the

door slowly swung open. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

I saw that the interior matched the exterior. It was all old and expensive looking. It held up pretty well until you went in for a close inspection. An old grandfather clock was stuck at midnight. There were sets of nineteenth century furniture littered throughout the various rooms.

A thick layer of dust had settled on it and just about everything else. The house could use a cleaning service. Nonetheless, the place looked far too

rich for my blood. A feudal lord would be at home in this mansion. After taking in the sights, I explored the house further.

“And I thought my place was a mess,” I said out loud. My voice echoed and reverberated throughout the house. If Alan Zachary was here, then he’d have an earful from my big mouth. “Damn it.”

I went to a large living room and kept my voice down. At least I thought it was a living room. I don’t know what rich people call a large room with a stereotypical setup of chairs, a couch, half dozen bookshelves, and a fireplace.

I guessed this was a conservatory.

There were Scottish tartans hanging by the mantelpiece. They were as big as a tablecloth to as small as a handkerchief. Clan emblems were stitched upon some of the tartans. It looked as though each piece required a painstaking amount of attention to detail. Alan must’ve had a love for Scottish culture or was a Scotsman himself.

For good measure, an unlit candle rested on a small coffee table. All that was missing was a cigar in an ashtray. The large fireplace had an iron grating.

There was a pile of firewood nearby arranged in a pyramid. The fireplace looked like it had been used recently. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Looks like I’m not the only one falling behind on payments,” I said to myself. It wasn’t as though this place didn’t have power. A nearby phone and cradle on a small dresser still had a functioning display. I could make out electric lights in nearby rooms. “Or he’s trying to relive England’s glory days before electricity.”

The bookshelves were absolutely

caked with dust. I couldn’t even make out the titles on their spines. Nonetheless, the books were very old. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were from the nineteenth century. They were an assortment of riches for a bibliophile. I saw variety of books from different parts of the word. There was a bookshelf dedicated to East Asian writings. Some of the books looked like family albums. Others looked like encyclopedias and other scholarly tomes. I was tempted to pick something out and read them on the couch until the host arrived.

Recalling Sally’s joke, I wondered if

this was really the house of serial killer. I felt a tingle down at the base of my spine. I would have been scared if it hadn’t been for the rollercoaster ride of the day’s events. I guess they lure girls here, torture them to death, and finally kill them.

However, something on the mantelpiece caught my eye.

It was a framed photo of a young handsome man in a military uniform. He barely looked old enough to be an adult. He was surrounded by older, more battle hardened men who looked old enough to

be the young man’s father. I guess this was in the British military from their uniforms. For good measure, the military insignia on the frame confirmed my suspicions.

I lifted it up and read the inscription. “Leftenant Alan J. Draper and the Hellhound Company of the British Special Air Service.”

“Alan… Draper?” I thought to myself, believing this was the man who contacted me. If Alan Zachary was a pseudonym, it would explain why I couldn’t find any information on him. “A

lieutenant at his age?”

“Put that down,” a voice commanded in a clear British accent. I nearly dropped it on the ground. I immediately placed the frame flat and on the mantelpiece and turned around to look at the source of the voice. “That’s an order.”

I couldn’t quite tell if it was Alan Zachary. Or Alan Draper. This man looked so different from the young boy in the photo. Whoever he was, the man was gorgeous.

I had imagined him to be a mirror of my previous bosses; a pudgy, balding man who only looked forward to harassing his employees. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Before me, there stood a young man in a handyman’s outfit. A few pieces of fresh firewood were underneath his arms. His clothes, especially his pants, were caked in dirt and stained with grass. I assumed he had been working outside. He had the muscles and the strong frame to attest to it. His weather beaten hands indicated a lifetime of hard labor, especially for a young man. It

wasn’t just his young age that intimidated me.

He towered over me in spite of my heels. He was well over six feet and craned his neck down to simply look at me. His face stuck out to me the most. He was handsome enough but not like most other attractive men. This was kind of handsome you only saw in your grandfather’s day. The tough, aloof handsome that knew a hard day’s work. This was a lost handsome that you didn’t see any more these days.

He had the chiseled facial features of

Old Hollywood. Dark stubble formed from his face from a few days of not shaving. His eyes seemed so much older than the rest of his face. They had seen more and experienced worse events than the rest of his body. I would have estimated him to be in his late twenties or early thirties if his eyes hadn’t suggested a much older man.

“I’m here to see Mr. Zachary,” I squeaked. This must be some field worker. Considering the state of the place, I wondered if he actually did any work. “I need to talk to him about some business.”

“You are talking to him,” he said in a menacing growl. I was taken aback by the statement. He turned his back to me and added his firewood to the pyramid. I could see the hard sinew in his arms as he placed the firewood. He turned to face me. “Let us talk about business.”

She awkwardly extended my hand for a handshake. I ignored the perfunctory gesture and walked towards her. She took the hint and dropped her hand just as awkwardly as she had raised it.

“I heard you have a job offer for me,” she said timidly. I had to admit I was becoming disappointed. She didn’t

sound so mousey in our conversation for the phone. Perhaps she was just that desperate. “You said you needed a nurse to provide on-site care. Is it for an elderly or sick tenant?”

“Miss Sears, is it?” I asked, already knowing the answer to the question. I gestured for her to sit. “I will be straightforward with you. I am the patient in question. You’ll provide me with medical attention for most of the working day.”

“You’re the patient?” she said in bewilderment. I couldn’t blame her. I

looked like the definition of good health. I had kept in good shape even after leaving the Special Air Force. “What’s with all the smoke and mirrors? Alan Zachary isn’t your real name.”

“Zachary is my mother’s maiden name,” I answered. “I use it whenever I don’t want my military exploits to follow me.”

“So is it a nagging wound from your time in the military that’s troubling you? I’ve seen the photos of you in uniform.”

“I was one of the lucky ones when it came to arriving back home in one piece,” I answered. I’ve seen men come back home missing limbs and experiencing phantom pain. “No, my problems aren’t of the physical variety.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed at that statement. She must have suspected I was fucked up in the head with PTSD or some garden variety mental disorder. It felt like an insult to the truly broken men of war for me to wear that label.

“Why offer it to me?” she asked, lacing her fingers together under her

chin. She seemed more curious about my motives than desperate for money. “This sounds like a job for a psychiatrist or a therapist. I’m sure you have the money to pay for a professional.”

“Due to the sensitive nature of my military exploits…, I can’t just hire anyone,” I answered. She seemed smart enough to see through my excuse. I just needed to grease her palms. “More to the point, I know things have been difficult for you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You do?”

“You father was a corporal in the United States Army, correct?” I asked to which she nodded. “I’ve heard of his unfortunate passing.”

Unfortunate was an understatement. The man had survived two tours and returned home in one piece. However, the war had taken its toll on him. After the death of his wife, he had committed suicide with a gun in a secluded park.

If anyone could understand what I was going through, then Beth could.

“Daddy was in the infantry reserve,” Beth said, taking a deep breath. “He wasn’t some decorated soldier… but he was my father. He always looked out for us…”

“I lost my parents as well when I was young… younger than you,” I said, my voice growing a bit soft. The worst part of acting a part was letting your emotions become too real. “There was no man of the house to provide for me. No loving woman to nurture me. I had to grove and scrape to survive.”

She bit her lower lip which made her look a bit cute. “I’m sorry, Alan. How did you turn your life around and join the British army?”

“Joining the British Army was turning my life around,” I answered. “They broke me and made me into a better man. I took to the military life like a fish to water. Soon, I was rising through the ranks and commanding men.”

“I’ve seen that photo of you in the SAS. You looked barely old enough to be an adult.”

“I wasn’t,” I answered with a grin. “I lied about my age to get in. I was tall for my age and the forgery went through. It’s not uncommon for mistakes like this to slip through the cracks.”

“Wouldn’t they eventually find out?”

“By the time they realize the truth, I had already received a double promotion. Let me tell you, the British hate tearing down the people they’ve built up. I was allowed to remain on duty so long as I never spoke of the

sheer incompetence of the British Army’s bureaucracy.”

Beth leaned forward in interest. “A double promotion? That’s very impressive.”

My time in the military had made me both wealthy and well-connected. Yet, I’d give everything I had earned to bring back all the comrades I’d lost. “I was the youngest leftenant in the British Special Air Force. Of course, you won’t find that in the history books. Much of it was buried after I left.”

“What made you leave?”

“Like I said, it’s classified,” I said, feeling a surge of bad memories. I needed her to help me exorcise them. “The damn Queen herself would have to pry it out from Scotland Yard. Suffice to say, I can’t go through the usual military channels when it comes to this dilemma. Not that I would believe they would be sincere to begin with.”

“Thank you for this opportunity,” she said. The woman seemed impressed of my accomplishments. If only she knew

what I had lost to get where I was now. “If I accept this position, would I have to live on-site? I have a minor at home to take care of.”

“Your sister?”

She nodded. “She’s not just an adult just yet.”

“This job won’t require twenty-fourhour on-site care,” I answered. “I’m not infirm or crippled. I expect you to be a nurse, not a nursemaid.”

Beth paused for a moment before speaking. “Where do I sign up?”

“I’m glad you asked,” I said, heading to the bookshelf. I picked out a binder located in one shelf. Then, I opened it and retrieved a parcel of papers. “I will require that you quit your other jobs. They will interfere with this new position. Please read the contract carefully. I will require your complete cooperation for this to work. Either of us can terminate the contract at any time. In return, I will provide you with whatever equipment or support you require to perform your duties. You will be given a

biweekly stipend of five thousand American dollars.”

Beth did a double take at the last sentence. “Heads of hospital don’t make that much. What’s the catch?”

She scanned the contract as if it were a devil’s bargain. The salary seemed to hinder rather than help me win her lover. She looked at me as if I was a telemarketer selling her snake oil. “I pay a day’s work for a day’s wage.”

“This is way more than five nurses

combined would make in a year.”

“Consider it a bonus for your silence,” I replied, pointing to a section in the contract. “It would be best for both of us if no one found out about our arrangement.”

Beth seemed curious about the smoke and mirrors surrounding this unusual job offer. Thankfully, she had the sense not to probe. Or her intrigue was winning over her caution. “Are you feeling unwell, Mr. Zachary- I mean Draper? Physically, you seem to be on the upper end healthy considering the people I’ve

met during the clinic hours I did during nursing school. What’s troubling you?”

I pointed to myself. “The only thing troubling me is… me.”

She raised an eyebrow. I had kept in better physical shape than most men. Nonetheless, I knew my vices would destroy me without help. “Then, is it something mental? PTSD from your military days? What exactly do you need help with?”

I looked away for a moment before

turning back. “Bright flashes. Strange noises in my head when no one’s around. Not being able to go on for a day without a fucking drink! It’s the damn craving I have for a lukewarm beer that the worst of it!”

Beth recoiled at my outburst. “Those seem like symptoms of PTSD. But I need more to narrow it-”

“If I knew what was wrong, do you think I’d ask you instead of a professional,” I groaned, massaging my head. I hated to be given the neat title of PTSD. They might as well have called

me damaged goods. “No one can find out what is wrong with me. All I can do is damage control.”

“Damage control?” she said incredulously. “You don’t even want to identify your problem? Or find a way to fix it?”

I shrugged. “I’m already one foot into the grave. You might as well make the trip as present as possible. You will be taken care of and paid for your time. I understand that this can be demanding work. That is why I’m offering days off and a flexible schedule. You’ll just help

me, not coddle me.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I do want to help you, Alan. Not just for the money.”

It seemed to be in her nature to care. It was too bad she had run into a man like me. “I’m paying you to be a nurse, not a nanny. I need you to ensure I don’t let my vices destroy me before I get my affairs in order.”

“What vices?”

“Alcohol for one,” I answered. That malignant nectar had been a problem before I was even of age to drink. “Don’t let me drink in the morning. Don’t let me have three shots of ScotchWhiskey before the day is over.”

“That’s not medical help,” Beth said, folding her arms. “That’s common sense if you want to live past forty.”

“I’d be pleased if I make it past thirty,” I laughed. She didn’t find it so amusing. “Don’t second guess my decisions, Beth. Just do as I ask and

you’ll never have to worry about money for the rest of your life.”

“Mr. Draper,” she began, handing me the contract. “I can’t be your nurse or medical assistant or whatever you want me to be if you continue to live a selfdestructive life cycle. It’s professionally irresponsible of me to ignore these issues. I came here to see if I could help someone and do work.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re refusing this offer?”

“I’m refusing this offer if it means turning a blind eye to your problems,” she replied rather coldly. “If you want to pay someone to give you the green light for destroying yourself, then pay someone else for the displeasure.”

Beth turned to leave. Normally, I would’ve shrugged and hit the bottle. But a part of me couldn’t bear to see her leave. “Then work for your sister. Provide for her future.”

“Leave her out of this!” she yelled. I hadn’t known this woman for very long but I knew how to push her buttons. “You

don’t know anything about us.”

“Don’t you want a better life?” I asked, my voice becoming softer. The question bore a hole into her. She was a prideful woman but compassion won out over pride when it came to family. “Do you want a better life for your family?”

For a moment, we were both silent.

“Do I have your word that you will work with me?” she began, stuttering the words. Beth walked towards me. “Do I have your word that you’ll listen to my

advice and work towards making yourself better?”

“Yes,” Mr. Zachary said simply. I wondered if Beth believed those words. Then again, I was starting to believe it myself. She sat down and looked at the papers. “I am a man of my word.”

The woman stared at me. Her irises seemed to peer into my soul. I couldn’t help but feel aroused at the sight. Something about this ordinary woman was making my cock stir.

Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. “Okay, let’s go over the details.”

Then, the two of us craned over the contract. From her body language, Beth gave the impressive that she was signing her own death warrant. It was an ironic way of looking at the whole situation. Afterwards, I left to let her mull over the damn tome.

The layman’s version of it outlined a typical day. She would arrive at my home early in the day. She would do a check morning check and follow-up two more times a day. She would monitor my

activities and help me maintain my sobriety. In addition, she would help me with day to day running of my investments if there were no other tasks as hand.

And she would have weekends off unless otherwise specified.

I returned with my checkbook. I always made sure to make sure my business partners were well paid so they could focus on the task at hand. For good measure, I had changed into a woolen robe.

Just a woolen robe.

If Beth thought it made me look pretentious, then she didn’t show it. Instead, she eyed the flesh it exposed. Call me narcissistic but I didn’t think she was looking at me with a medical intent.

“Think of this as a down payment,” I said, handing her a check. Her eyeballs practically budged out of their eye sockets when she saw that they were for ten thousand American dollars. “It’s for the first month. We’ll discuss increasing the amount once we start working

together and establish a long-term partnership.”

Beth looked as if she was in a daze. “Thank you, Alan.”

“Believe me, it’ll find better use in your hands,” I grinned. “I’d just waste it all at the racetracks.”

She laughed. “I won’t spend it all in one place.”

“Now that’s taken care of,” I said, sitting opposite of her. “Will you agree to this arrangement?”

“Before we go forward,” she said, handing back the signed documents. “Could I have some clarifications about your identity? I barely know you and yet I’m supposed to help you get better.”

I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Alan Draper is your real name, correct?” she asked to which I nodded.

“Is it okay if I call you Alan? You can call me Beth. Just not Elizabeth. It makes me old. And Betty makes me sound like a kid.”

“Whatever you wish, Beth.”

She paused again. I figured I’d get used to it. “Alan, what happened back at the military? I’ve volunteered to work with war veterans before. I know that look in your eyes. I saw it in Daddy…”

I looked away. “It’s classified.”

“But you’re barely older than me,” Beth continued. “These were men who had two tours in Vietnam. What did you do that’s just as traumatizing?”

“I’m not traumatized,” I said indignantly. “It’s just the booze I need help with.”

Beth shook her head. “Are you sure it’s just the booze? It’s not something else that’s causing it.”

“That and the women,” I said with a

smirk. She rewarded me with a glare. “Women, wealth, and wine have been my downfall. Unfortunately, I’ve had plenty to spare in each category.”

Beth continued to glare at me. “Just don’t expect me to hop into your bed after a routine checkup.”

“Don’t worry,” I grinned, which further incensed her. “You’re not my type and I don’t make a habit of fucking my business partners.”

“Speaking of a checkup,” she said,

changing the subject. “I need to do one to get an idea of your health. You say you don’t have any physical examination reports, correct?”

“What do you need?” I asked. She was young and lacked practical experience but I had to admit the woman knew her stuff. “I can pay for whatever medical services or facilities you require.”

“I don’t need a personal MRI machine,” she laughed. “I did clinic hours in some of the most under-funded places you could imagine. I can do fine

with just disposable gloves and a tongue depressor.”

I took hold of the knot of my robe. “Then why don’t you do one now?”

The robe fell on the floor.

I’ve seen a lot of nude bodies over the years when on clinic duty. It ran the gamut from out of shape geriatrics to otherwise healthy hypochondriacs. Even with gloves, I didn’t miss spending my days touching strangers with substandard hygiene.

I had never seen a man quite like Alan.

On one hand, he was the fittest man I had ever seen. I could make out the sinews of his muscular frame. His arms seemed like tree branches of a might oak. His body was well-defined like a weapon honed to a razor-sharp edge. A set of militaristic tattoos lined his body like paint on a classical statue. His flaccid yet length cock swung low between his toned legs.

Yet, there had also been damage. I had seen bullet wounds before and Alan looked to have had his fair share. Faint scars marked his body and attested to his

career in the military. They were million dollar wounds as the saying went. They hadn’t done any lasting damage to his organs or rotary muscles but must have brought on the pain. I didn’t know how the man was not only alive but well enough to hold a conversation with me.

Alan seemed to hypnotize me with his piercing eyes. I felt myself instinctively react to his gaze. It was as though I had been the one to expose myself.

I felt Alan reaching out to hold my shoulder which broke me out of my

stupor. The contact between our bodies was like an electric shock. The intensity in his eyes stopped my breath cold. “Get to work.”

I nodded and went through a standard checkup routine. I tended to start with the hands. You get a good idea of a person’s life through their hands. You can tell if they toiled away for years or never worked a day in their life.

Alan was clearly not the later. “What happened here?”

He thumbed over a recent cut that had just begun to heal. “Cut myself on glass.”

“Glass?”

“Broken whiskey bottle,” he answered. “It was a cracker of drink.”

I figured it was from a broken bottle of alcohol but I didn’t probe further. “Knees look like they’ve been under some wear and tear.”

“One knee took a bad fall from a parachute drop,” he sighed, rubbing his right knee before moving to the other one. “The other one took a bit of shrapnel. I used to be able to run a mile in under four minutes. Now, I actually have to try to make three minutes and fifty seconds.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s very modest of you.”

I moved down to my least favorite part of this. That was examining the genitals of the patient to look for

infections or other maladies.

Thankfully, Alan’s shaft looked to be in the best condition compared to the rest of his weathered body. I couldn’t help but stare at its length and size. To my embarrassment, Alan noticed the holdup.

“Yes, my genitals appear to be intact,” he said in amusement. “Thank you for noticing.”

I blushed and continued my inspection. I walked around his nude

body to examine his back. What I saw turned my blood cold.

It was a burn on the back of his right shoulder. It was between his trapezius and deltoid muscle. I had studied burn wounds in nursing school. This wasn’t the type you got from a grease fire in your kitchen. This was something that happened in a war zone with napalm and incendiary grenades.

I didn’t expect to learn much of his ‘classified’ past but I needed to know. “What the hell did this to you?”

His face was still as stone. “A battle.”

“It doesn’t look very old. Was it a petrol bomb or-?”

“Does it matter now?” he asked in frustration. “It’s in the past. Worry about the present. So do I have a clean bill of health or not?”

“It depends on your definition of clean,” I sighed. Alan began to get dressed which helped me feel less

embarrassed. “You’ve kept in good shape. Better than most people I’ve known. Alcohol withstanding, you seem to be getting most of your daily nutrients. You could use more calcium in your diet. I can tell from your nails.”

He nodded. “I’ll add some leafy greens for dinner.”

Nevertheless, I missed the sight of Alan’s nude body. I couldn’t help but think about how I would compare to his past lovers. Surely, a man such as he had his fair share of paramours. They must have been beautiful as he was and

continued to be. He wouldn’t settle for second best.

It was a useless thought. He had no interest in me. Besides, it would be awkward considering our professional relationship.

“However, it’s a miracle you’re in one piece. You look like an athlete who has been pushing himself to the limit for a good number of years. This is the type of damage you see in a linebacker who has been playing for twenty years as a professional. You’re not even thirty years old.”

“And I take it the booze and fast living hasn’t helped matters.”

“Honestly, I’m not experienced enough to provide you the best care,” I admitted, massaging my temples. “This is way above my pay grade, Alan. What if I make a mistake and make things worse?”

“You did well enough in your diagnosis,” he praised. “Most of the doctors I went to thought the burn scar came from a hot iron falling on me.

Fools. Now that our test run is over… do you agree to our arrangement?”

I answered without hesitation. “You clearly need my help, Alan.”

I couldn’t help but think of his nude body. It was a somber thought rather than a perverse one. He seemed to have gone through so much physically and mentally. I couldn’t leave him anymore than I could leave someone to hang onto a cliff for dear life.

“And you clearly need my money,

Beth,” he laughed. “We’re a match made in heaven. We’ll use this as a trial period. We can end this arrangement at the end of the week if you are unable to commit.”

More than the money, Alan was a soul in need of help. “With luck, it doesn’t come to that.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, putting a finger under my chin. I stared back into his beautiful eyes. The man knew how to tease a woman. He probably had a harem of supermodels waiting for him. Suddenly, he let go of

me. “But let’s keep things professional between us. Excuse me for a moment.”

I had forgotten I was supposed to be his personal medical assistant. He was my new boss, not my boyfriend. This was my first real job in years and I wasn’t going to blow this opportunity by acting like some love starved college girl.

With Alan gone for the moment, I couldn’t help but look at some of the photos on display on the walls of the room. Most of them were of his time in the military. A younger Alan in an

officer’s uniform smiled in the photos with his comrades. Whether it was pride or shame, it was good that he kept mementos from his time in the British Army. Some men couldn’t bear to think well of their military service.

Alan returned and had changed into clothes you could actually wear in public. He wore jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and a light beige colored jacket. He looked less like a Victorian woman’s idea of handsome and more like my kind of handsome. It was the kind I used to see during my college days.

“I think it’s time for me to go now,” I said, gathering my belongings. I stood next to Alan. We looked like an average couple. No would be able to tell he was PTSD stricken ex-soldier and I was a perpetually underemployed nurse. “This day has been very productive but it’s time for us to part ways. Mr. Winston must be waiting for a long time.”

“Mr. Winston is not waiting for you,” he said ominously, becoming delighted at my reaction to his statement. I hated how he could unnerve me with a few choice words. “I dismissed him while you dabbled with the contract. No point in making him wait. I will drive you

home. In the future, I’ll arrange reliable transportation for you.”

“Reliable transportation?” I asked. “Like a limousine service? Or credits for a bus? Is there a bus stop here in the middle of the nowhere?”

He rubbed his forehead in irritation. “Can you drive?”

“Yes, I can,” I answered. “Did you drink when you were gone? Do you need me to drive?”

He glared at me. “No, I planned to generously offer you one of my spare automobiles.”

“Spares?”

Alan didn’t answer my question. Instead, he led me to the back of the house. I saw that his house was in as much disarray as mine. It was simply too big for one person to live in. Forget maintaining the place. Just about everything needed a good dusting.

Half of the rooms seemed as though they hadn’t been used in quite some time. In spite of having electricity, he kept candles in just about every room. I pondered if he lived off the grid and if it caused him to have brownouts. If it wasn’t for his alleged wealth then he seemed to be the type that lived off the land.

It must’ve been the soldier in him.

Eventually, we reached a large, wide garage in the backyard. The sheer size of the thing suggested it housed several automobiles. The garage itself looked as

though it was once a barn during its life. The three car access doors looked as they had been installed recently. A heavy wooden door with metal edges marked the entrance to the garage. Rust and rot settled on the door’s frame.

“I hate this damn thing,” he said, opening the aging door. The hinge creaked as Alan swung it open. I saw his biceps bulge outwards as he forced the door open with two hands. I couldn’t help but be in awe of his strength. “There we go.”

When he switched on the lights, I

was shocked to see over a dozen cars. It had everything from modern sports cars to old American muscle cars. Of course, there were also stalwart British vehicles for good measure. In contrast to the decay of the house, these cars had a mirror-like sheen to them. They were absolutely spotless. I think some of them must have been near mint.

I looked at my reflection in a reddish-brown hot rod. A girl could get used to this treatment. “You mean I get to keep one?”

He ignored me and scouted out our

transportation for the day.

I’m afraid to say I’m not a car enthusiast. If I ever saw a hit and run, then describing the runaway car wouldn’t go beyond the color and number of doors it had. Still, a car ignoramus such as me could appreciate what I saw. What I saw was an array of foreign and familiar cars. I think some of them were supercars imported from Italy and Germany. He wasn’t a nationalist who swore just by BMW.

“Get in,” he said, pointing to a red glossy sports car. It looked like a Ferrari

type supercar. The damn door popped open and upward. I could already smell the Italian leather. It was so damn cool. “Until I can get the paperwork done, I’ll have a limousine service arranged for you.”

The ride home was a mostly onesided conversation. She not only gave me directions to her apartment but also talked about she planned to help me. “I’ve worked with war veterans, Alan. Honesty is the-”

“Let’s not speak of business when you’re off duty,” I sighed. The last thing I wanted was a lecture. I needed a

medical assistant, not a self-help book. “The number one rule is that any military details I provide you are to remain just between us. The SAS will have both of our heads if word reaches them about our relationship. As far as they're concerned, I’m on extended R&R after an honorable discharge.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t kiss and tell.”

The conversation turned to her family. Or lack thereof. Only her sister Sally remained after the death of their parents. I was an only child who went on

to become an orphan. I couldn’t help but think we were alike in this regard.

“Daddy signed up more to provide for us than anything else,” she recounted. It must have been a bittersweet time for her. “He was a high school dropout that couldn’t find steady work when the economy went to hell. My mother’s family was wealthy but they cut her off when she ran off with my father. Joining the army was his way of giving Sally and me a future. He wanted me to go college and become successful.”

“That’s a more noble cause than most

of the recruits I’ve met over the years,” I sighed. “They watch a war movie and think they’ll be one of the lucky ones. The ones who think the rules don’t apply to them. The shut up once the bullets start whizzing past them.”

“You seem to have taken a liking to the British Army.”

“It brought out the best in me,” I admitted. It was “It tamed me when I was thought to be untamable.”

“What did you do in the British

SAS?” she asked out of the blue. “Counter-terrorism? Hostage rescue? An air drop into-”

“It’s classified.”

She grumbled. “I suppose I won’t get much out of you.”

Beth would hate me if she knew the truth. “You suppose correctly. It’s dead and buried which is the best for everyone.”

“It’s not much to work with, Alan,” she sighed. “How am I supposed to help you when I don’t even know anything about you? I didn’t even know your real name until a few hours ago.”

“I didn’t hire you as a miracle worker,” I said plainly. “I just need you to help me stay off the liquor and on the wagon.”

“For how long?” she asked rhetorically. “Alcoholism isn’t a problem you fix overnight or even within a year. People spend decades trying to

get sober.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a drunk,” I joked. She didn’t seem to find it very funny. “Just now you’re in this for the long haul. You’ll be very well compensated for your time.”

I stared back at the car’s expertly crafted interior. “Just how rich are you? Those sports cars alone must cost a fortune. That house doesn’t look cheap either. How much did they pay you while you were in the SAS?”

“They paid enough,” I admitted. I never had pay for food or shelter during my time in the British Army. Over time, my combat paid added up to a tidy sum. “Going off my instincts and the advice of friends, I saved most of my money and invested it in real estate and Silicon Valley. The market found it agreeable and rewarded me with a sizeable fortune. Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t wasted my wages on women and alcohol.”

“Could you quantify it? Are you a millionaire? A billionaire? A thousand dollars in the bank and a huge line of credit?”

“Rich enough to not worry about money.”

“A lot of the veterans I’ve worked with have gone broke,” she said, her eyes looking downcast. “It’s sad watching them give up so much of themselves in a war to return home and have nothing.”

I shook my head. “That’s the way of it. A soldier’s good at killing people or breaking things. It’s hard for some of us to come back and be expected to build

something for a living.”

Beth began to finally relax as I drove to her home. Perhaps it was the scenery rather than my high speed driving. Nonetheless, I was as good behind a car as I was behind a rifle.

With one hand, I casually turned the steering wheel. My other hand expertly shifted gears of the manual transmission. Any onlooker would think we were a happily married couple going for a nice drive.

Happy was a word I rarely used to describe myself. Happiness was something I found in the bottom of a bottle or in the cunt of a beautiful woman. Yet, I felt at ease with Beth beside me.

“We’re here,” she said, breaking me out of my thoughts. I had almost forgotten the purpose of driving was to get from one place to another. I saw her apartment complex just ahead. “A little forward. Yes, right there. Drive slower, Alan… this is a residential area.”

“I will have transportation arranged

for you until we work out a permanent solution,” I said, briefly holding her hand. I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the prospect of leaving her. “Just be ready at eight o’clock for the driver to pick you up. I expect you to arrive without delay. Any questions?”

“No,” she answered. Beth began to turn before stopping in mid-step. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, that is-,” I said, cutting himself short. I held my hand in hers. It seemed like the English gentleman in me bubbled to the surface. “I’ll walk you to your

apartment. This looks like a bad neighborhood.”

Beth groaned and led me to her apartment.

We retrieved her sister from her caretaker. The young girl was a bundle of joy after dealing with her taciturn sister. Sally was as silly as Beth was sullen.

She was overjoyed to leave an old woman who Beth identified as Ms. Jacobs. The teenager talked about eating

chicken livers for lunch. It was an acquired taste but I figured the girl would welcome a less geriatric guardian.

Beth greeted the lady. “Thank you so much, Ms. Jacob.”

I pulled out a few bills. Beth eyes widened at the amount. It was literally pocket change for me but a small fortune for the cash strapped woman. “Take this for your trouble, madam.”

However, Ms. Jacobs batted away

the money as if it were a recoiled cobra. My new hire had quite the entourage. “You keep it under your mattress, sir. You and your girl will be safe when the banks are taken over by the communists.”

I chuckled. “Thank you for the sagely advice.”

Beth looked mortified. “He’s not my-”

Before she could finish her sentence, I leaned in and kissed her right there and

then.

I was so flabbergasted at the sheer nerve of the act that I almost forgot to enjoy it. I felt my lips melt like cream on a hot day. The parted as if they were servants inviting an honored guest. If his fingers were blunt and sinister then his tongue was soft and inviting. I encouraged him to probe deeper. I wanted him deep enough to make me muffle my voice.

Suddenly, he broke away and prematurely ended this display of affection. I looked back to see the same cold, uncaring eyes. This meant nothing to him. It was another part of the game he played.

I saw Sally look at us with a teasing smile. “Get a room you two.”

Likewise, Ms. Jacobs voiced her disapproval. “Get going now, lovebirds. My soaps are coming on.”

Sally was the first to leave. “Bye!”

After the theatrical kiss, Sally was excited with Alan’s presence. I had to clarify that Alan not in fact my boyfriend. He was my new employer. She asked him all kinds of questions once she learned that he was from England.

“Are you Scottish or English?” Sally asked. I didn’t know how she could tell the difference when I couldn’t. “You sound Scottish.”

“I’m English when I’m acting like a successful businessman and Scottish when I’m acting like a drunkard,” he laughed. I rolled my eyes at that comment. Nonetheless, it explained the clan tartans I saw in his home. “My mother descended from clan MacDougal. You must be Sally. I heard you’re the brains and beauty of the family.”

Sally giggled at the flattery. I was not amused. I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oh ha ha.”

My sister continued to giggle. “Beth

can be cute if she didn’t dress like a grandma all the time.”

“I’m sure some men enjoy her fashion sense,” Alan teased. The last thing I needed was to get embarrassed by my new boss. “You should visit my home, Sally. The place could do with someone youthful running through its halls.”

“Like a sleepover or something?” she asked, looking at me for approval. “Is that okay with you? I know he’s your boss.”

I didn’t want him to commit. “We’ll see about it in the future.”

“Don’t kill the mood, Beth,” he chided me. Alan held out his hand to Sally. “My house is your house, Sally.”

Sally took him by the hand. “Is that a date?”

“At my age, courting a girl like you makes me look lecherous,” he joked, taking her hand off him. “Find a boy your age. Preferably with two good knees so

he can keep up with you.”

Sally practically swooned in front of him. “I’ve always had a thing for Englishmen.”

I sighed. “When have you ever had a thing for Englishmen?”

“Since two minutes ago,” she said indignantly. “I like their music, their food-”

“You don’t even like eating a proper English breakfast last week.”

“That wasn’t a proper English breakfast,” she moaned. “That was a Denny’s Grand Slam!”

“I can always cook you up a meal,” Alan offered, working his charm on the girl. “I hope you can stomach blood pudding.”

“Beth, can I visit?”

“We’ll see,” I said indecisively as we reached our apartment. I had to admit that Alan knew how to get a girl wrapped around his finger, even if he had no real interest in her. I just didn’t want my personal life mingling with my new professional life. “We should get going. Sally, you go on ahead inside.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Zachary,” she said, a look of sadness on her face. “Take care of Betty.”

“Oh, she’s here to take care of me alright,” he said, a haughty smile on his

face. “I’ll try to return the favor.”

Sally went inside after waving Alan goodbye. I walked him back to his sports car. I was taken aback by his attitude towards Sally. I didn’t expect him to be an asshole to her like he was to me. I just expected him to be annoyed at her and treat her as though she were beneath him. Instead, he was patient and warm. He didn’t condescend or belittle her innocence. He was like the father who had been tragically taken from her.

“Now I know you’re crazy,” I accused, stabbing his chest with a finger.

I could see the look of confusion in his face. “You don’t act that way around me.”

“Well, you’re not a bubbly teenager with a sense of humor,” he answered, getting into his car. He closed it and lowered the window. “Don’t worry, I’m not perverted enough to seduce a girl half my age. I don’t believe that’s part of the twelve step plan you have for me.”

“It isn’t,” I said, not bothering to wave. The engine thundered as he hit the ignition. “See you at work.”

Just like that he was gone. It was then that the weight of everything came crashing down upon me. I was going to be looking after a man who was one foot already in the grave.

I’ve had unruly patients before but he was something else. I suppose I should have felt cold terror. I did feel that emotion.

My mind recalled the time I inspected Alan’s body. ‘Destroyed beauty’ would be an appropriate phrase to describe him. He was like a

Renaissance statue that had been looted and shipped from one place to another. I knew a war-weary soldier when I saw one.

Yet, I actually looked forward to working under him. I wanted to help Alan get better. It was the part of me that got me into the medical field.

Over the weekend, I tried to spend as much time with Sally. It was to make up for the neglect I had afflicted upon her. While I would still be away during certain times of the day, we would be spending much more time together than

when I worked at my previous jobs.

It also helped to put the looming arrangement with Alan to the back of my head. Sally and I went to the park, played on the swings, and got ice cream. It seemed as though we had both traveled back in time. We felt young again. It was as if we stepped into an old photograph of ourselves and took their place. Best of all, it felt that I had control over my life again. It’s funny how you can get a sense of freedom from becoming someone’s personal assistant.

On my first day of work, I was so

relaxed that I almost forgot about the arrangement. I was caught a bit flatfooted when Alan’s transportation service arrived. It literally came knocking.

“Just a minute,” I yelled, hurriedly packing my purse. “I’m almost ready.”

“You should get going,” Sally teased, eating her breakfast. She had made a proper English breakfast. Well, at least the eggs, bacon, and toast. We had run out of beans. “You don’t want your boss to think you’re lazy.”

“Just stay safe at the mall,” I said, handing her some money. Alan had wired some money into my bank account so I had some liquid assets. I couldn’t help but feel that giving Sally some pocket money was like giving a toddler a bazooka. “Stay out of trouble or else I’ll have Ms. Jacobs look after you. Don’t spend it on anything stupid.”

“Define stupid,” she said with a smirk. This girl was going to be the death of me. “Is a new pair of heels stupid?”

That teenager was too young to be shopping for heels.

“You worry about getting to school on time,” I said, hastily putting on my jewelry. The knocking got louder. “I have lunch and even dinner made for you. I should be back by eight. Just follow the instructions and heat up the hot foods. Don’t fill up on junk food at the mall.”

“You know me,” Sally said, grinning. “I’ll be okay. You make a good impression on Mr. Zachary.”

“I have to get going,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. “Please promise me you’ll behave and stay out of trouble.”

In the corner of my eye, I could see her cross her fingers. “I will, Betty. Goodbye.”

I opened the door to find an irritated man in his sixties. It wasn’t Mr. Winston. Wordlessly, he led me down to a midsized limousine.

The interior matched the luxurious

exterior. Leather lined the seats of the car. It felt cool against my calves. Soft carpeting tempted me to take off my shoes and curl my toes in it. A mini-bar with a cornucopia of liquor lined the side of the car. It was a cheeky gesture from a recovering alcoholic.

It wasn’t as awe aspiring as Alan’s sports car but it certainly was lavish. I had to hand it to Alan. He knew how to treat a girl right. Assuming, of course, he wasn’t treating her just another servant.

I had taken the weekend as an opportunity to learn more about Alan

after learning of his true identity. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to add. It was hard finding stuff on this guy. The guy was a living ghost. He didn’t even have an entry on Wikipedia.

Nonetheless, I found a few news articles chronicling his rise through the British Army. He had been the youngest member of the elite British SAS. He had participated in a variety of operations ranging from hostage rescues to antiterrorism raids. Predictably, much of this was classified.

Interestingly enough, the last piece of

information chronicled his honorable discharge from service due to a medical leave. He had been awarded the Victoria Cross for his services. It was the highest military award in the British army. Unusually enough, it had been awarded without ceremony due to Alan’s alleged medical situation.

I didn’t have to be a military expert to guess that this was some sort of cover up. The Victoria Cross hadn’t been awarded in decades. It must have been a smokescreen for whatever ever had emotionally scarred Alan. Hell, most of the articles said he was still living in some assisted living home in Manchester

City, England.

Inside the limousine, I found a duffle bag with my name on it. I opened it to a find some instructions, a doctor’s lab coat, a set of keys, and a medical kit. The coat got my immediate attention.

The coat was made of a thick material that was light enough to wear comfortably. I saw Alan’s Scottish clan emblem stitched on the breast. As a child, I always thought of donning a coat like that of a medical worker or scientist. It was a dream come true even though the circumstance were unusual.

For good measure, there was a medical kit with everything an aspiring nurse could ask for her. Hell, a doctor at the Mayo Clinic would think I was spoiled. I took out an expensive looking stethoscope. Alan had spared no expense in outfitting me for the task.

The other contents were more concerning. I found medicine ranging from cough medicine to vials of morphine. This stuff was highly regulated and I wasn’t convinced my employer had gone through the proper channels in acquiring them. It made me

question how easily Alan could acquire other controlled substances. The man didn’t need any more drugs in in him.

Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to use any drugs if we could avoid it.

The car came to a sudden halt. We had arrived at Alan’s house. I barely noticed we had been driving for an hour. I exited the car with the duffle bag. Using the keys, I entered past the front gate and the main door. He had reinforced the door with a new set of hinges. It figured that he now had the sense to lock the place up.

The place looked as empty as the day I first entered it. I took this as an opportunity to wear the coat he had provided me. I figured he would be angry if I wasn’t in uniform when I met him. I couldn’t help but be reminded of working at my old jobs. Except this time, my uniform was much more dignified than a fry chef’s apron.

The coat was as snug and formfitting as it looked. I wondered how he got my measurements. Perhaps some mysteries were best left unsolved.

I searched the house to find Alan. It didn’t take too long. I found him sprawled on the ground near the fireplace from before. He was in a robe which exposed his chest. The slow rise and fall of his chest told me he was still breathing.

Nonetheless, there was a pained expression over his face. I couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight of his vulnerable state. He also seemed to be muttering something. It was a series of names. I guessed they were the names of fellow soldiers.

“Alan,” I said softly, craning my neck over his body. “Are you okay? I’m here now. Can you please-?”

A hand grabbed my throat. “Get me some fucking backup!”

“Let go,” she yelled. I tossed her away like she was a rag doll. The woman landed with a thud. “AHH!”

I opened my eyes and saw my new nurse nursing her back. “Beth…”

She looked at me in bewilderment. “What the fuck was that! I try to help you

can you try to choke me.”

There was no question this had been out of line. “Apologies.”

“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” she accused. There was no point denying it. The stench of vodka lingered in the air. “Glad to see we’re off to a great start.”

I reached out to survey the damage on Beth’s face. Her lips were okay but her cheek was red. I was thankful for the fact that the strike had been off its mark.

I had been trained to hurt people and make sure they stayed down. “I need a massage. My knees get stiff now that the army isn’t keeping them moving.”

She stroked her cheek. “I’m not a trained masseur, Alan.”

“I don’t need you to be an expert,” I replied, getting up. I slapped my knee twice for good measure. “I just someone to reach the back of my calves because I sure as hell can’t when I’m lying down with my arse up.”

I walked away to prepare myself. I overheard Beth say ‘asshole’ when she assumed I was out of earshot. I couldn’t honestly blame her.

Then, I set up a massage table along with some body lotions and oils. The romantic in me couldn’t help but light a few scented candles. Most of the women I knew had their legs turn to jelly when I lit a few candles. A bath full of rose petals usually sealed the deal.

God, I missed being with a woman. I had sworn off them along with the booze. They didn’t hurt as bad as the

alcohol but were more trouble to clean up. A good bottle of whiskey wouldn’t care how much you loved it. It didn’t curse your name for how you promised them the world one night and left them with a taxi service the next.

Nevertheless, I wanted a woman.

I wanted Beth.

It was a strange thought. She wasn’t like any of my previous lovers. The woman had higher aspiration than sharing my bed. Beth was here for the

money rather than my charm. She knew what it took to put food on the table. Her particular American accent belied her low upbringing. Then again, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth either.

She wasn’t beautiful either. Her figure left much desired. For that matter, I had never met a woman who spoke back to me as much as she did. It reminded me of those loud mouth recruits who were weened out during my days as a recruit.

Yet, I imagined Beth’s soft lips

against mine. It wouldn’t be in jest this time. She would kiss me in spite of the fact that she deserved better. She would kiss a broken man living on borrowed time.

“If you’re not too busy staring at the wall,” she said, breaking my out of my daydream. I saw her standing beside me and pointing to the padded massage table. “We have a massage to attend to.”

Without the slightest hesitation, I disrobed, mounted the table, and lied on my stomach. Beth eyed me with enough attention that it didn’t seem motivated by

her professionalism. I knew I was an attractive man. The string of women I had bedded had said so much.

“The legs if you will,” I said, my hand coaxing her on. “Come on, don’t stare. There’s work to be done.”

She paused for a moment and examined my body. “Where do you say the pain is coming from?”

“The knees,” I answered. “And the ankles too.”

“I think it would be best if I massaged the base of your spine,” she offered. “It might be better for you.”

It was worth a shot. “The spine then.”

Beth dipped her hands into a jar of lotion. She liberally coated her hands as well as my back. Then, she began to massage my back.

I felt her soft, feminine hands touch me. They massaged my back with care

and precision. It didn’t seem like she was new to this. I could never return the favor. My hands were as coarse as hers were soft.

My hands were too stained with blood.

She was gentle. It wasn’t a virtue I looked for in woman but Beth was gentle to me. She was patient as well. That was another virtue I never saw eye to eye with. Whatever I wanted, I took. I didn’t wait for it to come to me.

She lingered on the base of my spine. I felt pain give away to pleasure as took its place. Some aches and pains that lingered for months now melted away.

The heat between over body radiated like an overfed campfire. Her fingers trailed across my buttocks and onto the back of my legs. My flesh tingled from the base of my spine to the tips of my toes.

God, this felt so good.

I was more aroused than the time had

four woman at one time. Beth just cared. The woman wasn’t here solely for money or another superficial reason. She wanted to help me. Her kind were a dying breed.

Beth applied the right amount of pressure in the exact right place. She paused for a moment and said. “Turn over.”

I did so and my large erection swung up. My masseur turned flush red as she attempted to go on with the rest of the massage. She reached down and gave my balls a soft squeeze. “Behave

yourself or I’ll give you a very impromptu and uncomfortable penile exam. You gave that kit to me for a reason.”

“Yes, madam.”

I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to touch every curve and contour of her body. I needed her warm, soft flesh responding to her touch. I needed to touch her from her hard, pronounced collarbone, to her soft, pouty lips.

I reached to touch her face and bring

her in for a kiss.

Beth began to protest before surrendering to our mutual attraction. She moaned which passed as a vibration against our lips. I felt all the pain in my body leave as if I had taken a massive dose of morphine. It made me recall the time I was young. It was the time before violence turned me into something ugly.

Finally, she broke away more out of breathlessness than embarrassment. The woman was as flush as my massaged skin. “What happened to keeping it professional?”

I gave her a bittersweet smile. “Sorry, I haven’t been a very good patient.”

“I think that’s enough for now,” she continued, her cheeks still burning. I missed her hands just as much as I missed her lips. “What’s next?”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I had breakfast,” she answered,

looking at her watch. “It’s a little early for lunch.”

“Just in time for second breakfast.”

“A work benefit other than impromptu kisses?” she said with a smile. “What’s the catch? You expect me to cook.”

“No catch,” I assured her, getting off the table. I donned a spare robe. “Just a nutritious meal cooked by yours truly.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”

“Yes, I learned it in the British Army,” I said with pride. Cooking was one of the few talents that I could put to good use in civilian life. “People ask how I got into the SAS as such a young age. I tell them I was the only one who knew how to avoid burning the food. That’s how I received a double promotion.”

The woman still didn’t buy it. “What are we having? MREs? I had a military

ration when my dad came back from the war. It looked like vomit and tasted worse.”

“Come on, I’m not barbaric enough to give you meals-rarely-edible,” I gestured to the dining room. MREs were the only part of military life I didn’t miss. “I’m treating you to a healthy breakfast.”

Beth laughed. “I don’t know whether or not I’d prefer MREs to meat and potatoes.”

We entered the kitchen where I began to prepare a batch of blueberry waffles. My mother made them when she was still alive. It was the first meal I had learned to cook.

“Could you make us a batch of coffee?” I requested, point to a French press. Unlike most British citizens, I was more a coffee aficionado than a worshipper of tea. “I’m afraid I don’t keep an expresso machine here. I can’t stand anything that isn’t hand pressed. You just have to-”

“Push the handle in and twist it?” she

said slyly to my surprise. “My parents were crazy about good coffee. I still have their old French press at home. Trust me, I know how to use a French Press.”

“You won’t believe the muck they tried to pass for coffee when I was still serving,” I said, helping myself to a handful of blueberries. Blueberries were one of more nutritious addictions. “They’d spend a king’s ransom outfitting us with the latest weapons and equipment. I had a helmet that could see a man a thousand meters away in pitch black conditions. Yet, they saddled us with instant coffee.”

Beth grinned as she prepared us a pair of cups. “Almost seems like you wanted to mutiny.”

“Still, I can’t help feeling a bit nostalgic for that stuff,” I admitted. My days in the SAS were so simple. Well, as simple at a twenty-five percent mortality rate could be. “The military life doesn’t have much in the way of variety but at least it had direction.”

“It sounds like you miss being in the Army.”

“I loved the order,” I replied. I missed my old comrades as well. Half of them were dead and the other half were scattered across the world. “Having my life on some nice timetable did wonders for me. I didn’t have time to destroy myself. I could focus on training and doing my best when I was on a mission.”

“Don’t you like having control over your life?” Beth asked. “The freedom to make decisions for yourself?”

“Freedom just meant an open bottle of liquor for me,” I said cynically. “The military broke me and made me into a halfway respectable human being.”

“What made you leave?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I sighed. “It was an honorable discharge... but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What happened?”

“It’s-”

“Let me guess, classified,” Beth giggled, pouring coffee into a pair of mugs. “I figured as much. Anyway, coffee’s done.”

I nodded as I prepared a pair of plates. “Waffles are done as well.”

We sat across the way too large dining table. It was meant for a family of twelve rather than two people. Nonetheless, Beth dug into the waffles.

“This is really good,” she said, devouring the waffles. Food was always a good way into a woman’s heart. “There’s something different about this.”

“More honey?” I asked to which she declined. Call me a heretic but I much preferred honey to maple syrup. “The secret is adding cinnamon when you're mixing the batter rather than sprinkling it when it’s done. It contrasts well with the blueberries.”

“A girl could get mused to this,”

Beth mused. “Free meals. Beautiful work location. I don’t suppose you can return the favor by giving me a massage instead?”

“We’ll see,” I chuckled. A good massage was another way to a woman’s heart. Not that I wanted things to get personal. “I’m not used to having a guest around the afternoon. What would you like for lunch?”

She looked out the window. “Do you get delivery out in these parts?”

I put my fork down. “I can get use lobsters airlifted from France if I wanted to. I never cared much for those mudbugs but it’s a delicacy.”

“I always wanted to live in a house like this,” the young woman said, looking at. “When I was a kid, I lived in an apartment right across of this small mansion. The mayor’s family lived in it. I dreamt of running through it, eating in it, and sleeping in it.”

“I came here when civilization became to civilized for me, Beth,” I replied. “Yet, I feel the same way as

you. I didn’t find an inheritance waiting for me in the cradle. I’ve saved up my money for years. It was more out of negligence than good diligence. The army kept me clothed and fed after my parents died.”

“You have a lot to be proud of,” she said, getting up and walking around the table to me. Her eyes continued to admire the room. “You’re a military hero and you have a nice house-”

“No one lives here,” I sighed, pushing my plate away. “I just bought it so I could self-destruct in peace. No one

else would have to get hurt that way.”

Beth stood beside me and rested her hand on my shoulder. “I live here now, Alan.”

I didn’t reply back.

Soon, there was silence except the sound of two people breathing next to each other.

I never liked being so close to a

person, even if it was a woman half of my size. For years, I spent my life killing people off in the distance. I would take lives that were no more than a small dot in the distance.

It was worse when it was up close.

When you killed a man up close, you could look them in the eye. You could watch the life get snuffed out of them. You could smell the blood.

For the first time in years, I was afraid to die. I didn’t want to walk hand

in hand with the reaper. I didn’t want to leave this world just yet.

I wanted to live.

I wanted Beth.

I reached out to her face and pulled it for a passionate kiss.

She didn’t protest at all. Never had a woman elicited such emotions within me in such a short amount of time. Beth was

such a strange woman. She was nothing like my previous lovers. The woman put others before herself. She was an anathema to me. I had cut out that kind, generous side of me a long time ago.

I felt soft feminine hands cup my face and bring my head up. We kissed and looked each other in the eyes. She was stirring something deep within me.

Something old.

Something primal.

My hands reached out to grope her clothed breasts. I wanted Beth. I needed to feel her skin against mine.

I felt the same lust burn in Beth’s chest. I could practically see the burden of family lift off her shoulders. She could love again.

Her nose flared and her eyes widened. Her irises seemed to darken and bore a hole through me. I wanted to fuck her.

I wanted to gut her with my prick. It would’ve been like bayonet practice back during basic training. There was something primeval about what I planned for her.

Breaking the kiss, I ripped apart her blouse. She cried out in surprise as buttons clattered on the floor. I grabbed her by the collar and pressed her body against her.

I kissed her again. This time, it felt more like I was suckling her lips. I cared little for her pleasure or comfort.

There was something strange about this lovemaking. It felt like I was committing violence. I had the same thrill running through that I did during a firefight.

Beth collapsed into my arms out sensory overload. My fingers roamed down her back and onto the curve of her buttocks. Her bra-clad breasts heaved against my chest. She looked to have had her strength sapped from her kiss.

She softly moaned which might as well have been a whimper. I pressed her

body against the table and lifted up her leg. My groin ground against her abdomen. The rest of my body pinned her down. I wanted to fuck her so badly.

I hooked my fingers under the band of her bra. I looked up to see Beth’s eyes stare into me. They were stuck between lust and reluctance. They made me stop. They made me feel like I was committing an act of violence.

And with violence came bad memories.

I remembered the pain I had dealt and received. I remembered the comrades I had lost. The times I had to tell their widows and orphans about how they had lost their loved ones. The times I spouted lies about how my comrades had died an honorable death when they were sent on suicide missions. The times I handed them hush money while they wondered why there wasn’t a body for a funeral.

It felt like I back in Syria.

“Beth… no!” I said, pushing her away. “I’m sorry.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder while the other held the folds of her shirt together. Her face was flustered from the kiss but her eyes were alert. “What’s wrong, Alan? Is it a panic attack-?”

“I’m fine,” I yelled, my tone implying the opposite. I needed some sweet nectar to dull the pain. I headed to the liquor cabinet. The streak was over before it had barely begun. “I just need some time.”

Beth called after me. “Where are you

going?”

My vision began leaving me. Colors and shapes merged together into incomprehensible flashes of light. I wasn’t even sure what room I was in. Whichever one it was, its walls were closing in on me. “I need a drink.”

“No!” Beth said, stopping me with a pair of feeble hands. I could’ve tossed her across the room with one hand if I wanted to. “No drinks! This ends now, Alan.”

I glared at the woman with whatever concentration I could gather. “I didn’t hire you to lecture me!”

“I don’t care why you hired me,” she said adamantly, her hand still holding onto me. “You’re my patient now and you’ll do what I say!”

Her touch was hot like heated leather. It burnt worse than an incendiary grenade. My brain remembered the smell of burnt human flesh. It remembered the cries of pain.

I slapped her hand away. “Let go of me!”

Her eyes pleaded with me. “No, you can’t keep retreating to the bottle every time life gets too difficult.”

Her gaze stopped the breath in my lungs cold. I felt a strange weight in my chest. It was as if the liquor as pulling me in one direction and Beth tried to lead me to the other. It was tearing me in two.

“Damn it!” I yelled, pulling away

again. Beth latched onto me again. Her fingers were as hot as a barrel of a machinegun that had fired a thousand rounds. “Let me die in peace!”

“Alan, you can’t fix your problems by-“

I swung away at her. “Stop!”

My fist connected to the side. Even in my aggravated state, I was skilled enough to strike a stunning blow. By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late.

Beth slumped down onto the floor.

I looked at the unconscious body in horror.

“Oh my God,” I heard a voice. I sensed someone carry me upstairs. I felt strong arms holding me. I absentmindedly touched the side of my head. There was dull pain that jolted me away. “Beth, I’m so sorry!”

My vision returned. I was back room I had massaged Alan. I saw the man racing from one side to the other in

search of something. There was a look of utter panic on his face.

“What happened?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. I was conscious enough to see him rummage through the medical kit he brought for me to use. “We were arguing and then I blanked out.”

“It’s completely my fault,” Alan said, handing me a glass of water and some Advil. His eyes were tense yet vulnerable. “I… attacked you when you had every right to stop me as my nurse. I’ll ask for your forgiveness but I don’t

expect it.”

“Ha! I guess that’s one way to get you to listen to me,” I laughed, drinking down the pair of tablets. At least one of us could have a sense of humor about this. “Don’t worry about it, Alan. I’ve worked with people with PTSD before. I know how easy it is to lash out at someone. I’m your nurse now and-”

“Beth, you can’t continue to work with me,” he sighed, examining the area he had hit me. I suspected he had some degree of medical training from his time in the British Army. “I’ve been trained to

kill people. I could’ve easily done the same to you. It’ll only be a matter of time before I-”

“Oh stop it!” I yelled, slapping his hand away. “I’m not some fragile girl and you’re not some indestructible man. I’m a nurse who’s seen a lot of unruly patients. You might be the king of them all but you’re still my patient.”

Alan gave a half smile. “I knew I made the right choice.”

“Why did you choose me?” I

inquired. The question had been in the back of my mind. I didn’t buy any of Alan’s excuses. “Why go through all that trouble of doing this whole song and dance of choosing an uncertified nurse working at a pair of dead-end jobs?”

“I saw something in you that reminded me of my younger days,” he confessed, a pained expression on his face. “You were at the bottom of the list. But hearing about how you left college to take care of your sister… it struck a chord with me.”

I giggled. “I’m glad that someone

found it to be inspiring because living paycheck to paycheck is hell!”

However, Alan was still serious. “Then, there was the matter of your late father. I thought you’d understand what I was going through after experiencing such a personal tragedy.”

“I see…”

“When I first heard about you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You reminded me of myself when I was young. I wanted to know more and more

about you. It got worse when I met you. I-I just wasn’t used to seeing such sincerity. I wasn’t even sure you’d accept the offer.”

“Well, I almost didn’t,” I admitted as much. “But the money is too good. I also want to spend my life helping someone rather just wasting away in some menial job. I can do some real good with you, Alan.”

“Most women would have left their family and went on to party in college,” Alan said. “There something about your will that attracts me.”

I was glad he couldn’t see my blush. “What did you see in me, Alan?”

“A sense of hope,” he said breathlessly. “A sense of normalcy. It made me actually believe I could come back as a civilian and be happy. It reminded me of the few memories I still have of my mother.”

I bit my lower lip. “What made you leave the military? What went wrong?”

“I saw some bad things… and I did some bad things,” he whispered. “I was part of an elite black ops group. It was a subdivision of the SAS. Everything we did was dangerous as it was top secret. And we did terrible things against terrible people. It was natural that some of it rubbed off on me. It got so bad that the country disavowed our existence.”

“What made them cover up your departure?”

“My last mission went pear-shaped and got me discharged. No point in having a team if there is only one

remaining soldier.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “But I’ve seen war veterans with survivor’s guilt before. They don’t write people off the history books because a mission went badly.”

“They do when the mission is an excursion into Syria.”

I did a double-take. “England’s not supposed to have boots on the ground in Syria.”

“It was a black op,” he said, his lips quivering. “We had to extract some VIP so Britain could get access to cheap oil from the man’s energy company. We thought it would be child’s play. We’d practically be like ghosts. Unfortunately, it was a setup.”

“A setup?”

“It was supposed to be a milk run but the VIP broke our communications protocol,” Alan spat in disgust. “Unwilling to risk being locked out of his fortune, he phoned his accountant to

transfer his wealth to a Swiss bank account. However, his phone was tapped. When we got there, the enemy was ready. They had mortars, rocket launchers, and five times as many men as us. It was the toughest fight of our lives.”

“Didn’t you have backup? Any help from the British Military?”

“That’s the worst part of it,” he said bitterly. “They didn’t even know we were there. Some career officer had orchestrated the whole thing. He figured he could get into the government’s good graces by saving them a few cents off

petrol. To make things even worse, a fucking air strike came in to bury us.”

I couldn’t believe at I was hearing. “An air strike while you were still fighting? He called one on you?”

He answered grimly. “I did to take down the enemy. I got more than I bargained for.”

“You ordered the strike?”

“The drones dropped enough bombs to bury all of us twice over,” he answered with a somber tone. “He got his target… the enemy combatants… and us. I woke up in a makeshift military with a pair of soldiers guarding me. The doctors were barely allowed to ask questions about me while they operated.”

“What happened next?”

“I was told to hush up about the entire operation and accept an honorable discharge,” he laughed cynically. “The official story was that my team died in a

training exercise involving vehicles. Can you believe that? Dying in a fucking car crash?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, kissing his cheek. “No one deserves that.”

“What makes me so ashamed is that… I liked it,” he sighed. “I loved the violence. I loved living on the edge. I was never sure I could return to civilian life.”

I placed a hand on his chest. “Tell me about it, Alan.”

He looked away. “I-I’m sorry… it’s just too soon.”

“I understand,” I said with a halfsmile. “Take your time. I’ll always be there for you.”

“I woke up every day and saw a broken man in the mirror,” he continued, his voice becoming strained. “I was so sick of living when a dozen good men lie buried in unmarked graves. Why should I be alive when they had families to go back to? I have no one waiting for me.”

“Then live for yourself, Alan,” I said, caressing his face. “If you can’t do that, then live for me. There are some things you can’t fix with violence or drugs. You have to let people inside your heart if you ever want it to get fixed.”

He looked at me in bewilderment. “Live for you?”

I did the one thing you’d never find in a nursing manual. I put on hands on his face and lifted it. Then, I leaned forward and kissed him.

Alan was reluctant at first. He had always been the initiator in his romantic encounters. To be the recipient must have been an alien concept to him. I didn’t stop kissing and holding him. I sensed his defenses leave him like an army routing after a devastating battle.

I thought back to when I massaged him. This was the same but a form of spiritual healing. I felt a spark travel from deep within my chest to our kiss. It was like lighting a fire during a heavy rainstorm. It burned so bright.

It rejuvenated Alan. The color returned to his face. He was the marble statue brought back to life. He returned the kiss with renewed vigor. His hands gripped the sides of my head as though they he were afraid I would leave. Our tongues both fought and worked with each other. I could feel the end approaching. I pulled him in closer and let my breasts brush against his chest. A bolt of pleasure sparked between my legs. I wished we could stay like this forever. Eventually, we broke away.

Alan looked at me with affection. He must have felt as though he had been

struck with lightning and lived on to tell the tale. His strength had returned.

“I don’t know the answer,” I said, still holding his hand. “But we can explore the answers together. I can help you get better. You just have to let me in.”

Alan didn’t answer as he held me in his arms. Nonetheless, I knew my words had made an impact. There was a look of deep contemplation I had never seen before on his face. “Let’s get you to a bedroom.”

There was a hidden tenderness in him. It was as if he was afraid to hurt me again. I just wasn’t sure where our professional relationship ended and our personal relationship began. I came here to be his nurse.

Now, I wanted to be his lover.

Alan carried me in his arms as I were as fragile as a priceless piece of china. He took me to a bedroom as I nuzzled my nose against his bare chest. I touched his chest to feel steel-like bone encased in flesh. He dropped me gently

on the bed and parted my hair. His breath was hot upon my cheek.

“Whatever happens,” Alan whispered, stroking my hair. “I promise liquor will not touch these lips without your consent.”

I smiled as I heard those words. I’ve heard a million New Year’s Resolutions that would be broken a week later. Recovery was a difficult and long journey. “Don’t make a girl a promise you can’t keep.”

“No, I mean it this time,” he said adamantly. “I may no longer serve an army but I’m now going to serve you. I’d rather go to my grave than break this oath to you.”

“We’re trying to prevent that,” I joked. Alan shot me a look of mock anger. “Oh! Is my patient upset with me? I know how to fix that…”

I pushed him on his back and straddled him. My weight did little to pin him down on the bed. However, he was so blind struck by the move that he did nothing. I parted his robe. He was

already erect and ready to fuck.

A grin formed on his face. “I thought medical treatments were supposed to be uncomfortable by nature.”

I grabbed his cock by its base. “Not this one.”

Then, I guided his cock into my pussy. Alan entered me with a grunt. I immediately began undulating above him. There was no need for foreplay. We wanted each other right now.

His manhood was so very long and thick. Alan rose up to embrace me. The action allowed him to probe deeper into me. I felt his hands grab the folds of my flesh and drive my body against his. He began a series of hungry kisses. My lips felt dry and hard under his soft kisses.

My face seemed to melt under his barrage of kisses. A thick strand of saliva formed between our mouths. Our kissing at the massage table had been serene. This was savage.

I pushed him on his back and began

riding him hard. Alan began trusting upward. I meet him with my own contrathrust. We worked out a steady rhythm of fucking. His hands alone were strong enough to lift my body and impale it on his cock. I groaned in rhythm to his long stead thrusts. The slick sound of his penetration and departure acted as a white noise to our lovemaking.

I could feel a twitch in his cock. His orgasm was building. He had held it back for far too long. My own orgasm awoke in tandem to his. It had been building for a long time. I could feel the familiar trickle begin between my legs. I tightened my hold around his waist.

He was a most skilled lover. He played me like a skilled pianist. I relished my role as his fine-tuned instrument.

Out of the blue, he slapped my ass. I cried out loud at the crass action. I looked down to see a mischievous smile on his face. He hit me again.

My buttocks became tender from his strikes. He began to increase the tempo of his strikes. I felt like a wild beast he was trying to tame. I rode him harder

and harder. He tossed his head back against my renewed assault.

I could feel our mutual orgasms build. We were so close to the end. His balls were ready to milk themselves in me. Alan continued to slap my ass. The pain from his hand and the pleasure between us created a delicious contrast. One sensation intensified the other. I reverberated between these two extremes. I was a plucked string in a guitar which got louder and louder.

My fingers dug into his skin. I approaching the end and so was he. With

one final strike against my backside, our orgasms began in earnest. His cock began pumping inside of me. It took a life of its own as it shuddered deep with my narrow slit. My nails drew blood as I screamed at the top of my lungs. My legs squeezed his muscular waist.

Alan lifted me up and off his cock. The fully erect member brushed against his belly. I saw it continue to twitch and spasm. My wet mound brushed against his side. My nipples felt dry in contrast to my drenched sex. His hot penis continued its pumping motion until it slowed and ultimately subsided.

I collapsed beside him and began breathing heavily. Alan took me into his arms and hugged me. I felt no harm could ever come to me. We spooned for quite some time as I stared into Alan’s gorgeous eyes.

“I don’t think this…” I began, catching my breath. “Is covered under the Hippocratic Oath.”

He stroked my cheek. “It’s covered under mine.”

Alan leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I knew I was getting through to him. Every patient just needs patience and time before you get through to them. Alan was no different.

I just never thought I’d fall in love with a patient.

Beth had changed me. There was no question about that. Week by week, the world looked brighter with her by my side.

I was healthier to boot. There was a spring to my every step. My body brimmed with energy. I could run a sub four minute mile even with a bum knee. Beth was a miracle worker.

I loved that woman. I loved her smile. I loved the way her soft skin felt against my weather-beaten hands. I loved the way she chastised me for falling short of the model Englishman.

My old comrades would’ve laughed at how love stricken I looked. But they were dead and buried in the past. Beth was now my present and with luck, my future as well.

I honestly didn’t know what to make of our relationship. One day, I would be

the disobedient patient and she would be the strict nurse forcing to meet my daily vitamin intake. I had never met a woman so stubborn and determined to do her duty. At the same time, I had never met a woman so kind and understanding. She was patient with me when I was the antithesis of that virtue.

During other times, we were your average, everyday girlfriend and boyfriend. We would go see a movie together and have a nice, private dinner at a fancy restaurant. During my days at the SAS, I had little time and opportunity for committed relationships. Whatever encounters I had with women were brief,

fleeting affairs spent on any flat surface I could find.

Beth opened my eyes to the pleasure that comes from a committed relationship. There was joy in living with someone else that wasn’t a trained killer. I took pleasure in the day to day routine of eating and talking over breakfast. I could wake up next to a woman who loved me rather than held me in contempt. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel that Beth deserved better.

In all my years, I never thought I’d end up living like this. I never gave

much thought to living with a woman in one place or even getting married. The two of us could live comfortably due to my investments. After leaving the military, I could do well with some structure in my life.

The physical pain was all but gone. Nonetheless, the emotional scars of my military career still lingered. It had been a struggle to survive every day. I had become lost after leaving the SAS. It was ironic that I craved the same violence that had wounded me so emotionally.

Beth told me there was no quick cure for this sort of pain. I just had to give it time, love, and patience. For all of my life, I had been thought to solve my problems as forcefully and quickly as possible. Dealing with this was like grappling with an enemy I couldn’t touch or even see.

I knew I could never deserve Beth’s love as long as this pain… this PTSD existed. A part of me held back from completely loving her. It was as if I was not yet ready to love and feel the sting of loss yet again.

Putting my thoughts aside, I found the woman I loved overlooking my liquor cabinet. She jotted down notes in her binder as she examined each bottle. As much as I loved the woman, I hated the strict nurse in her.

I leaned against the doorway and asked. “Need any help?”

Her dainty frame jolted before calming down. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Well, I do own the place,” I replied,

mockery in my tone. He walked closer to the small woman. “More to the point, what are you doing to my liquor cabinet?”

She scanned her binder. “Taking inventory of its contents.”

“Don’t trust me?” I smirked. I had given up the bottle. It had been hard but I had managed it with Beth’s love and some sour tasting medicine that helped me ween off the stuff. “Oh, how you wound me woman.”

“I trust you, Alan,” Beth said, getting back to counting. “I just don’t make a habit of trusting my patients. Remember the man I told you about that tried to cheat a drug test with a prosthetic… tool?”

I folded my arms. “I thought I was more than just a patient.”

The woman was so lovely that she didn’t even realize it. She certainly didn’t have supermodel looks. Her hair would become unkempt at the faintest breeze. Yet, I had to stop myself from grabbing fistful of her hair and making

love to her on the floor.

“You’re more than just patient to me,” she said, regaining her composure. The woman put down the binder and faced me. “You’re a friend and friends hold each other accountable.”

I walked towards her. “And I thought we were more than just friends.”

Before she could answer, I reached out and embraced her. My hands groped the swell of her buttocks. She moaned which I silenced with a kiss.

Her hands clasped onto the back of my head. Her tongue tangled with mine as my dug into the plump flesh or her backside. Soon, I overpowered her tongue and suckled her lips. My fingers went down to hold the inside of her thighs.

God, I loved this woman. We shared the burdens and sacrifices of living together. We didn’t always get along. We occasionally had intense fights and equally angry makeup sex. I had never given much thought to a committed relationship back when I was a soldier

just trying to stay alive. Now, I enjoyed the simple act of eating meals with her and going to sleep beside this woman.

However, Beth gently pushed me off her. I could tell she was just as hungry as I was. “Sorry, we have to get some work done, Alan.”

“Another round of yoga?” I inquired, stroking her cheek. A yoga session was usually followed by a sex session. “Or another day of force-feeding me a Lima bean smoothie?”

“No, something else I learned from my days at medical school,” she grinned. “We called it the nuclear option since it’s as terrifying as a nuclear explosion for recovering alcoholics.”

She had piqued my curiosity. “Terrifying. But have you considered going back to college?”

Beth stopped her task and stared at me. “Back to medical school?”

“Anything,” I replied. “Could be culinary school or Clown College for all

I know. But you did attend medical school for some period of time, correct?”

“Yes, I was trying to up to a better nursing certification,” she whispered, reminding about her college days. They must have felt so distant now. “Money started to run out. There wasn’t enough to pay for school and the bills at the same time. I haven’t given it much thought about going back. It’ll probably be a good idea. Technically, I’m not certified to do half the things I do for you.”

I kissed her cheek. “You won’t have to worry about money as long as you’re with me, Beth.”

The young woman blushed. “I’m not here just for the money. I’m here to take care of you and make you better.”

“I feel like a new man already,” I said sincerely. “But you’re not interested in going back to college? Or getting a new degree?”

“You plan on trading me away for a sexier, more nubile nurse?” she teased.

“I guess I’ll go back to selling used shirts.”

“I think it would be good for you to have some skill at a trade,” I replied, ignoring her blatant flirting. I had to think of Beth’s future… even if it didn’t involve me. “It would be good to have such skills and credentials… in case things don’t work out for us. You’ll have something solid to fall back on.”

She understood the undercurrent of my words. “I see…”

My eyes narrowed in concern. “I’ll always support you and your sister, Sally. That goes without saying.”

It was meant to be a show of support but came out more of a rejection. I wondered if the girl was a romantic as heart. She could’ve dreamt of marrying a man like me and raising a family.

Beth put on a smile. “Let me get back to work.”

“Speaking of which,” I began, looking at my prized liquor cabinet. Its

contents were worth a small fortune. One bottle of Scotch was worth enough money that you could buy a decent house with it. “What are you doing here, Beth?”

A sinister smile appeared on Beth’s face. A strange shiver ran down my spine. “The nuclear option.”

I stared again at my prize liquor cabinet. “Explain yourself, woman.”

The smile remained on her face as we spoke. “We’ve made some good

progress, Alan. Now, it’s time to rip off the bandage.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. “Say goodbye to all of these drinks?”

“Yes,” she said, deviousness in the single word. “You’ll be pouring some drinks. Just not in the way you usually do it.”

I jolted awake. “You’re insane. You want me to pour these priceless drinks down the drain!”

“I can tell you have some cravings,” she said, placing her hands to her hips. “You keep playing around with those whiskey stones you never use. The only way to heal properly is to cauterize the wound.”

“You’re not asking me to cauterize myself,” I groaned. “You want me burnt at the stake. I’m going to be the one to light the flame!”

“It’s part of the healing process.”

“It’s pouring liquid gold into the bloody drain!” I protested, pointing to the cabinet. “That Cognac is fifty years old. An ounce is worth a hundred pounds!”

“If you can’t follow your nurse’s advice, there’s no point in me being here,” Beth said, gathering her belongings. This was the real nuclear option. She would leave me if I didn’t do this. “It’s been fun being with-”

“Wait… I’ll do it,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. The woman was going to make

a better man, even if it meant putting me through hell first. “Let me just take one last look at these beauties.”

Beth smiled. “It’s for your own good. You’ll look back at this cabinet one day and laugh.”

“The only thing worth laughing about is how I wasted a good Scotch,” I laughed cynically. “My ancestors would have my head for this.”

“And I’ll have your head if you sneak even a sip without my

permission,” she said sternly. “Now, quit bellyaching and pour all of those drinks down the drain. There’s a sink in the next room.”

One by one, we took the bottles to the nearby bathroom. One by one, I poured them down the drain. Beth joined in as well.

“This bathroom’s going to smell like a bar,” she giggled, pouring a bottle of champagne. “We’re going to need a million air fresheners after we’re done.”

“It’s such a waste,” I groaned. It was more out of principle than alcoholism. There’s a room in hell reserved for men who waste good liquor. Suddenly, a strange idea entered my head. “Beth, why don’t you drink it?”

“Me?” Beth said, pointing to herself. “I can barely handle a couple of beers. What’s your angle? Let me play the alcoholic while you be the nurse?”

“Hardly,” I replied. “It would be a waste to just throw it away. You enjoy the spoils of your victory. I promise not to even inhale the aroma of that lovely

bourbon over there.”

“You want to sit there and watch?” she said incredulously. Beth eyed a fine red wine I had kept on store for special occasions. “You’re a regular masochist.”

She cracked open a rather nice Chianti. Beth drank alcohol as I poured alcohol down the drain. It honestly wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it would be.

The two of us were silent for some time. My mind was fixated on the

possibility of leaving Beth. Or her leaving me.

I had just met her a few months ago. Yet, I felt my life became interwoven with that of the nurse. She had healed me in a way no other doctor could. The woman had tamed the wild beast within me. The love we made was so sweet and tender.

Beth moved onto a white wine before speaking. “I don’t know how you can stand this stuff.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” I said, pouring down a Scotch-Whiskey. “If only if it was easy to lose it.”

The young woman hiccupped and blushed. “Sorry, I’m not used to chugging down bottles. I usually had a soft drink whenever I partied in college.”

“Will you be staying the night?” I asked, taking the bottle from her hand. I put a stout beer in its place. “This one tastes better after gulping down a few harder drinks.”

Beth shot me a look. “Stay for what?”

“I’d appreciate your company tonight,” I said simply. “Now that I’ve poured a small fortune worth of liquor, I don’t want to wallow in self-pity alone.”

“I can tell the babysitter to stay longer,” Beth answered. “It’s what I do when… I sleep with here.”

“Does your sister like her?”

“She likes her as well as any teenager likes having a babysitter at their age,” she laughed. “Susan, that’s her name, gets along well with Sally. She’s not that much older than my sister. It makes it seem more like girl’s night over than a babysitting session. She’ll spend the night at my house. I don’t think she minds since her rate doubles for the night shift.”

I watched her take another swing. “You trust her with your sister?”

“Sooner or later, I have to let her grow up,” she sighed with a hiccup. She couldn’t hold a drink very well and it showed. “I figure I let her spend more time here with you so it won’t be as hard watching her grow up. Sally will be an adult in a few years. She’ll have to learn to live without me. And I’ll have to learn to let her take charge of her life without me by her side. You’re not the only one trying to kick a bad habit.”

I grinned. “I told you it’s not easy.”

Beth gave me a soft glance. I wondered she suspected I had some

reservations about our relationship. The woman was no idiot. In fact, no one had ever peered into my soul like she had.

Finally, she placed a bottle on the ground. “That’s my limit. I don’t have a cast iron liver like you. This stuff burns your throat.”

We were almost done pouring the entire liquor collection. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to drink again and not become a degenerate, Beth?”

She paused and sucked her lip. I

knew she did this whenever she was in deep thought. “I don’t know, Alan. I’ve seen some recovering alcoholics have a drink once in a while and keep sober. However, for most of them… it just takes one drink to fall off the wagon.”

“I figured as much,” I grumbled. “At least just don’t tell me I have to give up women as well. I’ve gotten used to be being around one certain woman.”

“I wouldn’t prescribe celibacy to my worst enemy,” Beth replied, turning flush. Then, she became serious again. “Alan could I ask you a favor?”

“A favor?”

She hesitated. “It’s my sister… you see… never mind. It’s not important.”

The teenager was adorable. Sally always brought a smile to my face with her verbal sparring with Beth. She was as silly and fun loving as her sister her sister as focused and serious.

During our pillow talk, Beth had told

me her little sister had a crush on me. In turn, I had told her the crush would pass with time. I’ve had a dozen admirers who fell in love with me just as easily as they fell out. My eyes were solely squared on Beth. In her, I had found a lover. In Sally, I had found a sister I could dote on. “What is it?”

She shook her head. I shook my head. “It’s stupid. Not worth your time.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” I replied. “Now, tell me what’s own your mind before I ask Sally myself.”

Beth sighed and hiccupped again. “It’s just this yearly fair in town. We go there every year, even when money was tight. You see our parents took us when we were kids…”

I nodded. “It might be presumptuous of me but I suppose this is an invitation.”

“It is,” she continued. “My sister asked if you could join us. I told her you were probably too busy but I’d bring it up-”

“No, that sounds wonderful,” I answered with a grin. Beth’s jaw dropped at my answer. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, regaining her composure. “It’s not too far from my house. I know this is on such short notice-”

“Relax, Beth. I love fairs and I wouldn’t want to upset Sally. We have you for that.”

She glared at me with mock anger. “Do they have fairs in England?”

“We invented fairs,” I chuckled. “It’s usually an excuse to get drunk on ale.”

My nurse joined in on the laughter. “Well, this fair has ginger ale at least.”

“Close enough.”

“Alan… thank you,” Beth whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “Sally’s always looked up to you. After dad died, she took it really hard. I think it would

be good for her to have a man in her life.”

I wiped a tear from her cheek. “If you expect me to be a strict surrogate father forget it. I’m the kind that would hand a credit card to a daughter and tell her to go hog wild.”

She smiled. “Thank you for helping us so much.”

“I should be thanking you,” I said, returning the smile. Fairs had been one of the few bright spots of my childhood.

“Back when I was a child, fairs, carnivals, or what have you were one of the few places I could feel like a… normal boy instead of some orphan no one wanted.”

“I understand, Alan.”

I refinanced about the past as the good memories came flooding back. “I had to be good at the games. I could stretch one pound into a great deal of food and prizes. I never had much money as a child so every half-pence had to count. I was a crack shot at the shooting gallery. I suppose that’s why I ended up

joining the British Army…”

My voice trailed off as the good memories were replaced by the bad ones. Toy guns were replaced by real guns. Fake cut outs at the end of a shooting gallery were replaced by real flesh and blood. Nothing was soft and sweet.

Everything hurt.

Beth noticed my discomfort and shook me. “Are you okay?”

I forced myself to smile. “It’s nothing… just remembering the good old days…”

She didn’t buy it. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Beth stared at me for a moment before returning to work. The woman could read me like a book. There was very little I could hide from her. Whatever I hid would be revealed sooner or later. I wasn’t afraid about her

finding out the truth. I just wasn’t sure she’d stay with me if she knew.

“Well, that the last of it,” she said, taking an inventory of the bottles. I had to admit it hadn’t been as horrible an experience I had believed it would be. Beth made a good drinking buddy even if she was the only one consuming liquor. “I’ve had enough vodka to last me ten lifetimes. Let me just-”

Without warning, Beth collapsed onto the floor. Through sheer instinct, I rushed toward to grab her. Only my quick reflexes kept her head from

banging against the edge of the bath tub.

“Beth? Beth!” I yelled, shaking her. I saw the telltale signs of unconsciousness. I was thankful for the fact that I was sober. Otherwise, my reaction would have been nowhere as fast. “What’s wrong? Wake up!”

The bad memories came back.

The images of holding dead comrades in my arms.

Watching their still bodies become robbed of life.

Feeling the warmth leave their skin.

Hot tears poured down my cheeks. I had lost so many people. I would not lose another.

“Wake up Beth!”

I remembered falling asleep in Alan’s strong arms.

Now, I woke on soft linen sheets and a fluffy satin pillow. My body felt slow and heavy like a car that hadn’t been used in a long time. A soft, blue silk robe covered my body. I was bewildered by the change in scenery. Everything was soft and inviting. Warm

light from opened windows bathed the room. For a second, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I surmised that Alan must have picked me up and placed me here. I recognized the place as one of the mansion’s largest guestroom. I lied down and pieced together what had happened.

I had blacked out from drinking too much alcohol. I had heard of people drinking so much. I heard it from both college students and recovering alcoholics. I just never thought I’d end

up like them.

And I remembered seeing Alan’s eyes widen in shock. The sight of me collapsing must have awoken something in him. There would be time to discuss it later.

Turning to a face a mirror, I realized how disheveled I looked. My hair was a mess and my eyes were bloodshot. I’d need a good cup of coffee and a few more hours of sleep to get my bearings.

Alan had carried me here. He had

also put me on my side. This would prevent me from choking if I had vomited. We had connected deeply with each other when we poured alcohol down the drain. It was a connection that had gone beyond the physical.

I looked outside and saw that it was the afternoon. I looked around the room for a clock. To my dismay, I couldn’t find one. Alan really needed to get some of these rooms furnished.

The man imported the finest furniture from Europe in lieu of more practical stuff. I reached for my cell phone only to

remember that I had left it in the bathroom. I started to get off the bed and head down stairs. However, something on the drawer next to me caught my eye.

There was a let on top of it. Beside it was a jewelry box. The shallow woman in me immediately opened the box to see its contents. I gasped when I saw what was inside.

It was beautiful military medal. It didn’t have any gems or precious metals but it was beautiful. It was a simple cross made of bronze. I traced it and felt the emblem of the British lion

underneath my finger. I moved up to feel the soft red ribbon attached to it.

It was the Victorian Cross.

It was the highest military award in the British Army.

And Alan had given it to me.

Putting the box to the side, I picked up the letter and read it. Alan’s succinct handwriting was immediately

recognizable.

Dear Beth,

I hope you are feeling better. You’ve been out for a day since I have written this letter. The doctor I hired said you will get better soon enough. You need plenty of liquid, preferably water. Furthermore, you need to move your body to process the alcohol.

I picked up Sally from the young girl you hired. Your sister is here in the mansion. She is well.

Love,

Alan

P.S. I was cleaning out old belongings and came across this bauble. I cannot not legally sell this medal or destroy it. It now belongs to you. Do whatever you want with it.

P.P.S. The pension awarded to recipients of the Victorian Cross can be

wired to you if you wish it.

I placed the letter down. Alan certainly knew how to wish a girl well. I wondered if he had much practice considering the hearts we had broken over the years.

Looking back at the war medal, Alan seemed ashamed of his war accomplishments. I had worked with war veterans before. Many of them were decorated. I can’t recall any of them showing off their medal collection without being asked first. If anything, they wore it for the comrades who

couldn’t wear one.

It had been a long day. Strangely enough, I felt both tired and energized. That’s when it hit me.

“I slept the entire day!” I cried out loud, dropping the letter on the floor. “Oh God! I forgot about Sally.”

I tied my silk robe, grabbed the war medal, and rushed downstairs. Unfortunately, I was in a rather unfamiliar part of the house. I also didn’t know where Sally and Alan were in the

house. Hell, I didn’t know if Alan was out on business. When in doubt, head to the kitchen. That was my creed when working as a waitress.

I went down a few flights of stairs. It did a job of getting the aches out of my body. I was feeling better already. It made me feel empathy for what Alan and my past patients had been through.

I heard the sound of laughter. One was the giggle of a teenage girl and the other was the hearty chuckle of a man. I turned around the corner to see Sally and Alan sitting at the table. I smelled hot

chocolate and coffee. Alan looked ruggedly handsome as he teased the young girl about something.

“I’ll make a proper English woman out of yet.”

“Betty’s always been the classy one.”

“Well, if you ever do start dating,” Alan said in between sips of his coffee. “We’ll give you a makeover. You’ll have the all the boys lining up to be your boyfriend.”

“I was thinking of dating someone I liked,” Sally replied, blushing at the older man’s advice. “You know… someone who has the same interests as me. Someone who cares about me. And I want to marry for love when I grow up.”

“I’m afraid nobody does that anymore,” he said, continuing to tease her. “It’s all downhill from grammar school romance.”

I couldn’t but smile at the exchange. “Alan, are you trying to seduce my

sister? There are laws against that.”

Sally beamed at me. “Betty!”

“Perish the thought, Beth,” Alan said, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked so different from last night. Or was that the night before? Nevertheless, he looked more American than English with his blue jeans and white t-shirt. “I hope you had a pleasant rest. Come join us. We made hot chocolate and scones for you.”

I looked to Sally. She slurped up some hot chocolate. It got all over her

face. The girl needed to learn some proper table manners, especially in the home of an Englishman. “Sally, are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t come home yesterday.”

“Are you alright, Betty,” she asked, in a mischievous tone. “Alan told me you helped him get rid of his liquor collection. By that, I mean you tried to beat his drinking record.”

“I only had a couple of glasses,” I protested, glaring at Alan. “Okay, it was six or something.”

My sister giggled. “And here I thought you were hard at work. You were just drinking on the job!”

“I called Sally and informed of your ailment,” Alan said, sparing her the gorier details. “I told her you were unwell. I picked her up and brought her here since the sitter had other appointments.”

Sally folded her arms. “It wasn’t a babysitter. It was a chaperon.”

Alan chucked. “Yes, a chaperon that followed you around the house and made sure you didn’t do anything stupid.”

I sat down in an empty chair at the table. The motherly part of me grabbed a napkin and wiped the chocolate off Sally’s face. “You didn’t have to do this. Thank you for looking after Sally... Mr. Draper.”

Alan shook his head. “Not at all, it was my pleasure.”

“What do you do here exactly?”

Sally asked. She had been at home ever since Spring Break began. “You never tell me what goes around here. I thought you were his medical assistant. Not his drinking buddy.”

I exchanged a look with Alan. “Yes, I’m his assistant. I’m also whatever he wants me to be. I wear a lot of different hats depending on what I need to do.”

“Well, you’re not doing a good job by getting yourself sick,” Sally chided, pouting at me. “Alan, she would use up all her sick days in a month of working at a new job. It was totally

unprofessional. Don’t let her take advantage of you. You’re a good guy and don’t deserve any of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Alan laughed. “She’s milking me for all I’m worth. There are days I’m afraid she’ll burn down the mansion and run off with the insurance money.”

“Oh, stop it you two,” I groaned. All the same, the banter was enjoyable. I was glad Sally was safe and happy. “Sally, I’m going to talk to Alan-Mr. Draper for a little while. Wait here.”

Sally smirked at my request. “Alright, I won’t stop you from talking with your boyfriend.”

She giggled. Alan winked at her. I wasn’t as amused. Alan and I left the room and entered the conservatory. I wanted some distance between us and my sister.

“It’s nice to have your sister around here,” Alan stated. Soon, we arrived at our destination. “I think this house could use the laughter of children in it.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Just how long was I out?”

“A day and a half to be precise.”

I bit my lip before speaking. “Alan what happened back there?”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want to know? You got drunk and fell-”

“No, before that,” I said, causing him

to step back in shock. “Your reaction was-”

He held up a hand in defense. “How am I supposed to react with you blacking out? Sing a song?”

“This was something else on your mind,” I continued, my gaze drilling a hole in him. “Seeing me like that… it had an effect on you.”

Alan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You might have helped me with the alcohol but there some problems no

one can fix. Our contract only covers-”

“Forget the contract,” I said harshly. “Contract or not, I’m here to help you. It’s my duty as both a practitioner of medicine and as your lover. It’s the human thing to do. You just have to let me in.”

“Let you in?” he grunted in shame. He’s serious about this. I looked into his gorgeous eyes. They shimmered as though there was a fire within them. “Tell you about how I know what burnt human flesh smells like? Or what it feels to hold a man who is missing half of

their face?”

“I’m not some fragile flower that’s afraid to get trampled,” I retorted. “I’ve worked with people who thought they were the worst of the worst. I’ll never think less of you, Alan. I know you’re a kind man at heart.”

“Beth-”

I silenced him with a soft kiss. Then, I placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt as warm and hard as a stone on a hot summer day. “You can’t keep it bottled

up inside you. It’ll destroy you. Chances are that you’ll destroy me while you’re at it. So work with me or we’ll go down together.”

“Beth… it’s too soon,” he said, his forehead wrinkled in worry. I couldn’t help but feel that he was trying to protect me. From what exactly? “Maybe one day we’ll talk… when the pain is distant.”

He gently took my hand off his shoulder. “Please, let me in. I want to know what’s eating you. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“It hurts being around you, Beth,” he whispered. He brought his face to my forehead. His hot breath blew away my hair. “Back during my time in the SAS, I could never afford to have feelings for another. I never kept still in one place. The women I slept with would be left behind the next week. Even my comrades could die in the field. Being so close to you has undone everything. I can’t afford to have these feelings about you. I won’t have my pain hurting you as well.”

I leaned in but my lover, gently pushed me away. “Alan, let me share

your burden. I care too much about you to let this slide.”

His answer was blunt. “We should end this.”

My eyes opened wide in shock. “What! Y-you mean our relationship?”

His face was that of stone. Cold and uncaring. “We’ll keep it completely professional.”

“But haven’t I done good work for-”

“No, I mean the romantic part of our relationship,” he interrupted. My jaw dropped in disbelief. He was breaking up with me. Alan took the opportunity to plan one final kiss on my lips as if to mollify me. I barely felt it. “I’ll have you stay with me and help me manage my health. But you won’t have to share my bed. I won’t give you any gifts or show you affection. Our relationship will be purely professional.”

“Alan, never making love to you again… I just can’t imagine it,” I

moaned. This couldn’t be the end. “When I first met you, I never thought we would ever become what we are today. But we’ve somehow made it work. Just give us a little more time. Please, don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to us.”

“It’s done, Beth,” he said, his statement a command. Alan wiped a tear from my eye. I wasn’t even aware I had been crying. “Dry your tears. I will continue to support you and your family. You will never want for anything. I’ll always be there for you. However, I can’t allow you to work for me and be my lover at the same time.”

But you’re not here for me, right now. I wouldn’t accept this. “But I want you!”

Alan avoided my gaze. “It’s over. Let this end.”

“We can… talk about it later,” I sighed, wanting to change the depressing subject. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the war medal. “I appreciate you giving me your Victorian Cross but I can’t accept it. I’m not some war hero like you.”

“I’m no hero either, I was just a hired gun working for Her Majesty,” he said bitterly. He looked somewhat disgusted at the sight of the war medal. I knew it wasn’t an uncommon reaction for war veterans. “I would have thrown it out if I didn’t tossed it in your direction.”

I held it out to him. He backed away as though it was his kryptonite. “But it’s still yours, Alan. You’ve earned it through your hard work and sacrifice, even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

He shook his head. “It belongs to my comrades. The ones who fought, died, and were quietly buried. It belongs to the lost. Not some survivor they hushed up.”

“That doesn’t mean you should hand it out to the first person you see,” I scolded. He was so difficult at times. “This medal has history behind it. You can’t just toss it aside.”

“It’s now belongs to you. Do whatever you want with it. It’s just a fancy, miniature tombstone to me.”

I gripped the bronze frame of the Victorian Cross. “Alright, I’ll keep it. Thank you for the kind gift.”

I guessed this was it.

Heavy emotions weighed me down. I was going to miss him. His firm hand punishing me. His strong arms carrying me. The feel of my soft breasts against his hard chest. His hands stroking my face and lifting my waist. The feel of my body being lifted by him and then impaled on his manhood.

I knelt down. With quivering hands, I began unbuckling his belt. A look of alarm flashed on his face.

“Beth! What are you doing?” he yelled. I licked his clothed crotch “Your sister could-”

“Please one last time,” I pleaded, still on my knees. “One last time. For me.”

Alan’s face softened. He wanted this as much as I did. “Not here. Not now.”

Saliva trailed down my chin. It felt so wrong to do this with my sister nearby. “Please, I need you now.”

Alan gave me a conflicted look. “Beth stop!”

“No!” I cried, my hands clawing at his tough body. I didn’t want to stop. I tugged at his clothes. “Please Alan!”

“Stop it, Beth,” he commanded, his deep voice adopting a dangerous edge. He grabbed both of my arms and

expertly bent them behind my back. “I said stop it!”

I felt a sharp stabbing pain from the hold agonizing hold. “Alan you’re hurting me!”

He immediately let me go.

“I’m sorry, Beth,” he whispered, his voice gaining a raspy edge to it. “We can’t go any further. I shouldn’t have even done this with you. It will only make things harder for us.”

I couldn’t accept this. “I want to be with you, Alan.”

“No we can’t carry on like this,” he growled, grabbing my chin. He looked into my eyes as though he hypnotized me. “We’re letting our emotions get the better of our judgment. We have to stop this before it gets out of control. Just choose your head over your heart. Treat me like a patient rather than as a lover.”

He was right. I felt ashamed of myself to have put my desires before the emotional needs of my patient. I should

have been glad that a man was willing to unconditionally provide for my family. “You’re right, Alan. I just wish I could be a little selfish.”

He sighed in agreement. “I wish the same.”

Alan and I held each other for a long time.

We walked back to the kitchen in silence. Beth had freshened up in a nearby bathroom. I hated to see her cry. The sight of her unhappiness was as good as a bullet through my heart. But I’d play the stoic if it kept her safe from me.

It would be pure agony to be so close to her and yet so far. I didn’t know

how we would deal with the sexual current between us. Worse, she could easily end our professional relationship and leave me.

Beth could easily find a man with less emotional baggage than me. It would be someone who would form a genuine emotional attachment with. I felt a pang of jealousy in my chest at the mere thought.

Thankfully, Sally didn’t suspect the drama that had occurred in the other room. “What took you two so long? Were you two fighting or kissing? I

heard some yelling.”

“Of course not,” Beth answered, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. I was numb to all of her false affection. “I just freshened up since I just woke up.”

Beth picked up the empty cup of hot chocolate that. I could have sworn I had poured her one. She raised an eyebrow at Sally.

“It wasn’t like you were drinking it,” her sister said in defense. “Anyway, are you up for the fair?”

Beth cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You remember the fair that’s just arrived,” she said enthusiastically. She was practically jumping up and down in her chair. “At least it’s in our town. It’s not like this place which is a million miles from home. It’s going to start in a few hours. We have to get there by tonight. It’s bad enough we missed the first day.”

Beth groaned at her sister’s

eagerness. “I just got up and now you want us to go?”

“You promised that we’d go. Alan said you told him that all three of us would go.”

“Sally don’t make-”

“Please Betty,” she pleaded, putting on a puppy dog expression. The girl was a born actress. She could probably swindle anyone out of anything with a little practice. “It’ll be like old times. You know, when mom and dad were

with us…”

That’s all it took to win Beth over. “Alright, we’ll go. Only for a couple of hours.”

“Well, since we’re all here,” I added, winking at the minx. “I suppose I can tag along.”

Sally rushed up to me and raised her hand. “Give it high!”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“A high-five!” Sally replied, still holding up her hand. I tapped my hand against her. “Guess they don’t have high fives in England.”

I chuckled. “We prefer solemnly tipping our hats.”

Beth smiled at my reply. I didn’t mind being the butt of the joke if it made her happy.

“Okay, but no rides for me,” Beth said, giving me a bashful look. “I think I’ve gotten sick enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Let’s get some food into you first,” I said, going through the kitchen pantry. “You must be starving. I hope you enjoy eating a full English breakfast in the afternoon.”

I managed to get Beth to scarf down eggs, black beans, and blood sausage. She had some fresh fruit as well. Sally teased her older sister for her appetite.

I loved every second of it. The house felt less of a mausoleum and more of an actual home. There should’ve been a family walking through these halls instead of a broken man.

As the hour of truth approached, I couldn’t help but feel more and more excited about going to the fair. I had never had an opportunity to do the mundane things most men of my age enjoyed. I had never treated my family to a night out. Then again, I never had much of a family to begin with.

Although a part of me accepted the end of our relationship, I wanted to use tonight to show Beth that I cared for her. A side of me thought I could win her back. The smarter half knew that I had burned that bridge. After all, I had pulled the trigger on it.

Our relationship meant a great deal to both of us. It meant more than I would’ve openly admitted. I had warm memories of our time together. From my time healing under her care to our romantic encounters, I wouldn’t ever trade away those memories for anything.

Beth was more a source of direction for me than a hundred tours in the British Army. All the people I cared about were dead and buried. She was the only one who could break past the armor I had erected around myself.

It was narcissistic as hell but I couldn’t help but feel that she needed me as well. The woman had dedicated to keeping her family afloat. I had been not only a source of financial support but also romantic fulfillment. I didn’t think we could ever fully leave each other.

I drove us to the fair in one of my Lamborghini cars. I may have been a proud Englishman but I had to hand it to Italian craftsmanship. Likewise, Sally stared in awe at the machine.

“Think you can give me one?” Sally asked with smirk. “It’s not like you don’t have any spares.”

I chuckled. “Come back to me once you’re off your learner’s permit.”

Beth gave both of us a stern look. “I’d rather give a toddler a rocket

launcher.”

I remembered I had gifted Beth a car. However, the paperwork wasn’t done yet. It was stuck at the garage in back of the mansion. She preferred driving a sedan well under the speed limit to racing. Cars were one of the things we’d probably never see eye to eye on.

Finally, we arrived at the city’s spring fair. Several tents housed games and other events. Sally stared wide eyed at the rides set up the fair engineers. A medium sized rollercoaster thundered in the back. A swan shaped boat ride for

couples caught my attention. It seemed more of a ghost ship to me when you considered the state of my relationship with Beth.

People queued up for rides and games. Beth held on to Sally’s hand in case she started to wonder off like the independently minded teenager she was. Sooner or later, Beth would have to get used to her sister growing up and making her own decisions.

I stayed close to my ex-lover. Then again, most onlookers would think we were still dating. I held her hand more

out habit than anything else.

The public spectacle seemed so alien to me. I hadn’t been to a place like this since I was a boy. Its bright lights and colorful attraction were almost blinding. A cacophony of music played from a large speaker system, live musicians, and would-be singers.

The area was so packed that I brushed up against people. I also couldn’t help but notice the looks I received from the young female attendants. Beth noticed this as well and tightened her grip on my hand.

She gave me a bit of a smug smile. No one else had to know about our breakup. I was still a prized catch in the dating market. I guessed that was one of the few perks of my life as a bachelor. Not that you could tell I was a British soldier turned venture capitalist with my causal clothing. I looked like your average fair attendee even if I was half a meter taller than the average man.

I surveyed the fair for a place where we could catch a breath. Food stands sold all kinds of junk food. Half of the games were colorful ways of gambling.

While they failed to attract Beth’s attention, I was in my habitat.

We managed to find a small open area to rest and gather our bearings. Sally, however, reminisced about her youth. “This place doesn’t look as big since we were last here.”

“You were a lot smaller,” Beth said, ruffling her sister’s hair. Sally glared at her before fixing her pixie like hair. “I could actually carry you around.”

Her younger sister laughed. “The

only thing you’re going to carry is cotton candy and the prizes I’m going to win.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “You were terrible at these games. You can’t throw a ball or hit the broadside of a barn.”

A nearby booth was selling souvenirs. Another was a shooting gallery awarding prizes for skilled marksmanship. I stared at a pair of plastic guns pointed at a series of targets with bulls-eyes printed on them. It looked like just another combat zone to me. It was funny how the military could transform your perception of the world.

Nevertheless, the booth caught my attention. “Luckily for you ladies, I’m quite the prizewinner. There’s a gun at the shooting gallery calling out to me.”

Beth and Sally turned and looked towards the shooting gallery.

I looked to where he pointed. It was a large shooting gallery divided into several sections. A treasure trove of prizes lined its walls. Basketballs and framed posters could be seen on shelves. I saw a herd of stuffed animals as well.

“Sally, care for a stuffed animal?”

She shook her head. “I’m too old for stuffed animals. Think you can win me a sports car?”

“She’s high maintenance,” Beth laughed, looking disinterested. “Besides, these places are as much of a scam as the ring toss. Those BB guns can’t shoot straight.”

I folded my arms. “Sounds like you had a bad experience. Are you sure it wasn’t the marksman herself that was the

problem?”

Beth glared at me as Sally stuck her tongue at her older sister. “Alan, I’ve played those before and practically have to spend a fortune on it to get a decent prize. They expect you to spend money to just learn how to fire the gun. It’s like an unpaid internship. I don’t want you wasting your… bottomless pile of money on it.”

I smirked. “You haven’t seen me play.”

She laughed at my boast. I almost felt like a teenager trying to impress his date. Nevertheless, it was good to see Beth happy. “Alright, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t win anything.”

We went to the game booth. We didn’t have to wait long for the place to clear up and allow us to play. I purchased a round with the shooting game’s manager. There was a special going on for particularly skilled or lucky marksmen; players with a perfect score were rewarded two of the most costly prizes.

It was like taking candy from a baby.

Nonetheless, the manager wasn’t happy that I only purchased one round. He probably thought I was some cheapskate. “You’re going to need more if you want to bag something for your girlfriend.”

I ignored the man’s insult. I’d let my skills do the talking. Confident in my chances, I turned to the girls and asked what prizes they wanted. “What spoil of war do you ladies desire?”

Sally pointed at a vinyl record. “There’s no point being cue about it. That Ramones record!”

I nodded. “Good choice. How about you Beth?”

She blushed and shook her head. “Nothing for me.”

“No priceless treasure catches your fancy?” I asked, examining the BB gun. I guessed I would have to compensate for the bullet drop by aiming higher. It was good to come to something simple after

dealing with military grade hardware for most of my life. “A tiara made of aluminum? Or a miniature television? Does a stuffed platypus interest you?”

“Pick one for me,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t care which one.”

The manager activated the shooting gallery. Targets in the form of men’s torsos appeared on a conveyer belt. Their chest was adorned with a target. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

I took aim and let loose a volley of pellets.

They were all bulls’ eyes.

After years of being in deadly firefights, this was child’s play.

With casual ease, I took down the second set of targets as soon as it appeared. In the corner of my eye, I noticed that the manager had begun sweating. The third, final set rotated in.

I didn’t even need to look down the gun’s sights. I shot down each target with rapid precision. Once again, they were all bulls’ eyes.

As I set down the gun, a prerecorded message announced that there was a new high score. “I’m a little rusty.”

Sally looked at me with disbelieve. Her sister, however, was incredulous. “You call that rusty?”

I shrugged. “I could’ve been

quicker.”

Soft living had made me slow. Nevertheless, Beth was slack jawed at my display of skill. Sally raised her hand and I high-fived it. Then, she pointed out the record she wanted as her prize.

That left Beth’s bounty. I scanned the aisle of prizes for the right one to give her. Most of them were all over marked trinkets. However, one piece caught my eye.

It was a small musical box with a handle. I pointed it out and the booth owner gave it to me. I cranked the handle a bit and heard a brief musical note.

It was perfect.

I held it for Beth. She took it and instinctively turned the handle. A melodious tune spilled out of the box. Even among the loud noises in the fair, I could hear the distinct melody over the cries of children and the thunder of fair rides. I could see the smile of her face. “Thank you, Alan… just thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I said, brushing the back of my hand against her cheek. God, I missed being intimate with her. “Honestly, if it was me, nothing would beat that old CRT television.”

She gave me a playful slap on the shoulder for that.

We walked to some food stands and bought some treats to celebrate my stunning victory over the inanimate targets.

“Careful Alan,” Sally laughed, eating a deep fried Oreo cookie. “You might spoil us rotten with all the stuff you’re giving us.”

I gave a mock sigh. “Like I have a choice in this.”

Beth elbowed me in the ribs. “Come on, eat up. You can afford the calories.”

“You’re going to rot your teeth first if you forget to brush tonight,” Sally said, imitating her sister. Even Beth had to

laugh at that. “Don’t forget to floss too.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “Beth could you pass me those onion rings. I’ve never had them before.”

“Never?” Beth asked rhetorically. She held up the plate of fried onion rings “Who’s the philistine now?”

I took the plate. “I’m more into my Scottish heritage when they’re a good fair around.”

As she passed me the food, our fingers touched ever so slightly. A jolt of desire instantly overtook me. Beth must have felt it too since her forehead creased and returned to normal in rapid succession. Her lovely hair fluttered in the air like the tail feathers of a hawk. A soft smile briefly broke out on his lips.

My heart skipped a beat.

Was I in love with Beth?

Would I ever be able to live without

her love?

It wasn’t as though I never considered my romantic feeling for Beth. It’s just that I never realized the sheer intensity of these feelings. I had thought our relationship was largely based on physical attraction.

I enjoyed her steely will as much as the passion new shared in bed. The romantic aspect as new to me. My affairs with women were brief respites between the fighting. Yet, I couldn’t deny my feelings for Beth.

I didn’t just want to be her patient. I didn’t want to be some victim she nursed back to help. I wanted to love her and be loved back. I regretted even entertaining the thought of keeping my distance from her.

I had no one to blame but myself.

Sally broke my concentration. “Let’s go on a ride.”

Beth smiled at her enthusiasm. “Try not puke over on the ride. Any damages

come out of your allowance.”

“Very funny, Betty,” she replied. “You’ve probably puked more times from getting hungover than an entire rollercoaster’s worth of people.”

She gave the brat a playful slap on the head for that.

As we walked to a nearby ride, I saw a large crowd gather. I turned to Beth and asked. “What’s the commotion about?”

She gave me a smile. “The reason most of us come here. The fireworks show!”

My forehead creased in worry. “Fireworks?”

I heard the sound of first of the fireworks ignite like a powder keg. It was a bright red rocket that exploded into a colorful halo of red light. When I was a boy, it would’ve been a thing of beauty for me. Now, it looked like an emergency flare fired by a soldier kneedeep in combat

I looked around as the people surrounding me stared in awe of the display of lights. Sally stared slackjawed at the series of bright explosion. Likewise, I could see the lights reflected in Beth’s beautiful eyes.

They saw bright lights and colorful explosions.

I saw mortars, rocket launchers, and grenades going off. They rained down fire and death. They brought pain and misery.

My body became paralyzed with fear.

I felt pain. It was the fresh kind you could only find in a battlefield.

I imagined bullets piercing my body. My mind envisioned my body becoming scarred with fire. Shrapnel from a grenade ripped me to shreds.

Then, I saw the people around me

turning into charred husks. Their skin darkened until it crumpled like ash. I saw their bones chip into a thousand pieces.

Just like that, all the bad memories from Syria came back with a vengeance. I saw still, unblinking eyes of my comrades. The lucky ones were stonecold but in one piece. The others had been blown to bits.

I felt a hand on my chest. Beth looked into my eyes with concern. “Alan? Are you alright?”

“We-I have to go,” I yelled, my voice being drowned under the thunderous sound of the fireworks. My heart raced as though I was in the middle of combat. “I-I can’t-”

Beth touched my face. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Taking her eyes off the lights show. Sally shook my arm. “Alan, what’s wrong?”

I hated to look weak in front of them.

I felt so ashamed of myself. I jolted again like a rabbit when another series of fireworks went off. “We have to go!”

Beth brushed a tear from my face. I wasn’t even aware I had been crying. I thought I had shed all the tears I had for my lost comrades. “Home!”

My ex-lover bit her lip. “Your house is miles from-”

“Anywhere but here!” I yelled. People started to turn around and notice the scene I was making. “Just get me out

of here.”

Beth took charge of the situation. “We’re going to take you to our place, Alan. It’s closer to us.”

I nodded. “Just get me the hell out of here.”

We left was fireworks blared in the background.

I needed a drink.

“Stop it!” I shouted, pacing my kitchen. I tried to grab the bottle. However, his reflexes were still too fast after a pint of wine. “You’ve had more than enough!”

“You don’t know what it was like,” Alan said, taking another swig of the liquid. Alan rummaged through my fridge for another bottle of booze. He

had already gone through a bottle of wine I had set for a special occasion. “None of you do.”

The incident hadn’t bothered him one bit. He back to being the cold, arrogant Englishman once again. On the other hand, I was a bundle of nerves.

I had been around war veterans as they broke down or had panic attacks. I had seen everything from them curling into a ball to lashing out at others. Yet, Alan was nonchalant about the whole thing. I knew he was trying to bury it like it was just a bad episode.

“I do know!” I spat at him. I recalled the image of the ex-soldier becoming petrified before the fireworks. “I’ve worked with men like you. I watched the same happen to my father-”

Alan slammed the bottle down on the table. “I’m not like other men.”

“You’re not like other men?” I asked with bitterness in my voice. “You just stood there like you were back in a warzone. You think you’re a braver man than my father?”

He looked away. “I never said that-”

I snapped back at him. “You don’t have to keep up the tough guy act around me, Alan. I know what I saw was the same look I saw in my father during his last days.”

Alan looked offended at that statement. He took a swig of the alcoholic beverage. It was sad watching him drown his sorrows in booze. “I wasn’t scared.”

Suddenly, I knew what was going on his head. Whatever guilt he carried had become too much for him to bear. He didn’t want my help. Accepting any aid would mean he would have to face his problems. He wanted it all to end.

I stabbed a finger at him. “You have a death wish, don’t you? It’s survivor’s guilt, isn’t it?”

“What are you saying?” he said, looking defensive. “That I want to die? That I’m unhappy with all the wealth and power I have? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” I replied, completely confident in my claim. “All your money won’t fix what is wrong with your soul. I’m here to help you and you’re throwing it away.”

Alan stood up. I knew I had pushed his buttons. “I am warning you-”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re my patient,” I interrupted. I began walking towards him. I could already smell the alcohol in his breath. “You don’t get to warn me. It’s the other way around.”

Slowly, his body became limp as though my statement had defeated him. I walked up to him and kissed him. I recalled our first, real kiss between us. I was afraid it was lost to me forever. Now, I transplanted all my love and affection for him through this action. I sensed that I broke through his defense mechanisms.

“I’m sorry Beth,” he said, breaking the kiss. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I thought I was getting through to you tonight,” I said softly, holding him. “I thought we could be a family. You, me, and Sally. We’ve all lost so much. We could help each other through the pain. Maybe I could never be your lover again but I could still be your friend.”

“I’m a dead man walking,” he said, his face downcast. He re-corked the bottle on the table. “I don’t want to take you or your sister down with me. We… might be better off keeping our distance.”

“You’re not a dead man!” I replied,

gripping his hand with mine. “You’ve done so much for us. You’ve changed my life. We need you, Alan. We need you to be strong.”

Unexpectedly, a teenage voice interrupted us. “Are you guys still fighting?”

“We’re just talking… loudly,” I answered, taken back by her sudden appearance. Struggling to stay awake, she walked into the kitchen. “More to the point, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

She stifled a yawn. “I can’t sleep with you two yelling.”

Alan smiled at us. “You should rest. You’ve had a long day. Don’t lose sleep on the account of an oaf like me.”

“Thank you for treating us for a night out, Alan,” Sally said, her eyes shining with sincerity. “Are you feeling better?”

“Street food always does this to an English palette,” he joked, placing a hand on his abdomen. “That’s why I stick to meat and boiled potatoes.”

The teenager was smart enough not to buy it. “Should we take you to a doctor?”

He pointed to me. “I have the best medical assistance in the world with me.”

I didn’t mind keeping up appearances. However, she continued to probe. “Are you sure, Alan? You looked sick.”

“Nothing to worry about,” he said, mollifying her concerns. “Off to bed with you. You have your youthfulness but take some rest.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’re well past your bedtime. And don’t tell me you’re too old to have a bedtime.”

We watched as she walked to her room. I couldn’t help but feel that Alan and I were husband and wife. We watched as our daughter to sleep. He and I had entered the role of my departed

parents. It seemed strange yet comforting at the same time.

I had always thought of Alan as a guardian spirit. Not so long ago, I was at risk of losing my home and family. He might’ve thought of himself as a devil with how he acted as my patient.

Yet, he came through to me in the end. He had provided for my family. Alan had loved me. There was good in him. He just needed my help.

However, Alan had other plans. He

started leaving the room. “Good night, I’ll be off now-”

“No, you’re not driving with that blood alcohol content,” I said sternly. “I’ll take you home. You can barely stand up straight.”

“That’s a very generous offer but I must decline. I’ll call a cab-”

He wasn’t getting off that easily. I had unfinished business with him. “No, I’m driving. And that’s final.”

Alan opened his mouth as if to argue with me. Then, he stopped when saw the look in my eyes. The man sighed and headed to the entrance. “Very well. I’ll meet you out in the front.”

I entered Sally’s room to tell her of my departure. To no one’s surprise, she was wide awake. “Sally, I’m going to drop Alan off home. You’ll stay here. I’ll get someone to-”

“Don’t treat me like an idiot,” she said, glaring at me. “The two of you were fighting.”

I narrowed my eyes at her outburst. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re breaking up with him, aren’t you?” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at me. My eyes widened in surprise. “We’re sisters. I can tell when something is bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” I quickly lied. “We’re just arguing about my salary-”

She didn’t buy the phony excuse. “I know he’s not just your boss.”

You didn’t have to be a genius to guess that.

“Well, he’s the one doing breaking up with me,” I replied, careful not to let any more information slip. “I’ve taken it well. I’ll continue to work with him but everything will be professional.”

She leaned forward. “So you’re sad that he’s leaving you like this?”

I parroted the words Alan once told me. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about us. Alan will always support us.”

“But that’s not good enough for you,” she said, shocking me with her understanding of my feelings. “I know you love him. You’re not going to let him get away, right?”

My silence was confirmation enough.

“I always dreamed that some would come rescue me,” she said, looking at

the window and into the night sky. “After mom and dad died, I knew you were worried about losing our home. I wished each day that someone rich would rescue us. Alan’s not just rich. He’s kind and funny. It’s like mom and dad sent him to protect us. You have this chance to be with him and you’re letting it slip away.”

Her words stung me. I knew I loved Alan without a shadow of a doubt. I wasn’t going to let him destroy himself.

“You know me,” I said, kissing her head. “I don’t give up so easily. Stay out of trouble until tomorrow morning. I’ll

be back by then.”

I met up with Alan at the door. Somehow, he looked a bit more sober than before. He always had a strong constitution. Nonetheless, I led him outside to his car. I needed to get him to the mansion in one piece. We walked to his parked car.

He looked at the apartment complex. “I’m sorry for making such a fool of myself in front of your family.”

So the great Alan Draper could act

humble. There was no point in kicking a man when he was down. People like Alan needed love and understanding. “We’ll talk about it later.”

We reached his car. It was a custom made Lamborghini Aventador. It had a number of modifications, such as four seats as opposed to the usual two. This hadn’t taken much away from its horsepower. It was very much a powerful and precise beast. I was both frightened and excited at the prospect of driving it.

We entered the car. The fact that the

doors opened upward never stopped looking cool to me. The cool leather of the seats brushed against my legs. It felt so damn good. I could fall asleep in this car. The dashboard lit up in an impressive lighting display.

I turned on the ignition. It felt weird to be the one doing the driving. I put my hand on the stick shift. That is when it hit me. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, surprised by her fit of giggles. “Happy to have me riding shotgun?”

“I can’t drive stick,” Beth answered, gathering her breath. “I guess we’ll have to call a cab. There’s no way I can drive this. What’s the number to the limousine service you use?”

“Technically it’s semi-automatic and you can definitely drive this car,” I clarified. She wasn’t as confident. “I’ll coach you. It’s easy as riding a bike that goes two hundred miles per hour.”

Beth gave the dashboard a nervous glance. “That’s not very reassuring. I don’t want to total your car. Especially when it has me inside it.”

“Relax, I can tell you’ve always wanted to give it a spin.”

“I don’t know if proxy drunk driven is against the law,” she sighed. The woman was braver than she’d ever give herself credit for. “But I don’t plan on finding out.”

“The car’s computer system has a setting for beginners,” I said, pointing to the heads up display on the dashboard. Then, I pushed a few buttons on the touchscreen. I heard the car growl as though its gears and sprockets shifted around. The dashboard indicated we was in ‘Safety Mode.’ Or ‘Grandmother Mode’ as I liked to call it. “It’s made for neophytes such as you. It’s as close to driving fully automatic as you can get.

You can drive like an old lady if you like. I won’t judge you. Besides, you have my expertise at your side.”

“A drunken Englishman coaching me as I drive the fastest ground vehicle in town,” Beth groaned. “This is a recipe for disaster… what the hell… let’s do this.”

I grinned at her determination. “Okay, just follow my instructions.”

As she injected fuel into the high performance machine, I admired Beth’s

persistence. Most women would have kicked me out to the curb and left me to rot there. There was something about her determination that I couldn’t help but fall in love with.

“That’s good, keep it steady,” I said, wishing this teaching session occurred under better circumstances. I rested my hand over her hand and the stick. I felt my rough, weather-beaten hands graze the soft skin on the back of her hand. She felt warm and inviting against the cool interior of the car. “You’re doing great.”

Against my instructions, she kept

glancing at me now and then. I couldn’t help but believe she was thinking the same thing as me. We were a great team. Whenever we worked together, so obstacle seemed too high to conquer.

God, I missed this feeling so much.

My hand brushed against her skin as I guided her. My tough skin against her soft, untainted flesh. Every moment reminded me of our romantic encounters.

It was pure torture being with her but not having her. I missed verbally

sparring with her. I loved to her hear talk about how much my bad behavior had done a number on my body. I missed waking up next to a woman who looked back at me with love.

We eventually managed to make it back in one piece to the mansion. I couldn’t help but critique her driving. “Not bad. Your handling needs some work but you have some natural talent.”

We walked hand in hand into the mansion. It was more out of a desire to hold her than any need to secure my footing. I felt like a stranger in my own

home. Beth was the one to guide me to a bedroom.

The woman sat beside me on the bed. She sighed and said. “I guess I’ll be staying over for the night. I don’t want you staying alone in case you need me in the middle of the night.”

“I need the company,” I replied. She ignored my flirtations and walked over to pick up something from the dresser. “What’s wrong?”

Something on the dresser caught my

eye as well. It was the stethoscope I had given Beth. It was another item on the checklist for me. For her, it must have been a priceless tool. “That’s yours to keep, Beth.”

Beth looked at me strangely before coming back to sit next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “What happened Alan?”

“Back at the fair?”

“No, in Syria. I deserve to know.”

I paused for a moment. Beth and Sally had given me nothing but love and kindness. In return, I had pushed them away. I had fucked up the only thing good in my life. She deserved the truth. “I think I can trust you now…. follow me.”

I led her up went up a few flights of stairs and into my room. Once we got there, I pulled out a photo book from a locked drawer. It was one of the few personal mementos I kept from my time in the British Army. I didn’t have the heart to throw them away.

Beth stared at it before looking at me. “A photo album?”

I turned to an early photo taken during my days as a recruit. It depicted me as a youth in a barracks next to my bunk bed. Another, had me doing the morning calisthenics with the other recruits. “Those men broke me and tamed me.”

“You look so different,” Beth whispered. “What happened Alan?”

“War happened,” I said grimly, closing the photo book. I didn’t want Beth to see that pure image of me slowly turn into the man I was today. “I keep blaming the liquor but that wasn’t the problem. It just made the problem worse.”

However, Beth took the book from me and reopened it. She began flipping through the pages. “Your fellow soldiers… they must’ve been the closest thing to a family.”

“We were always getting split apart,” I replied. “That’s the life of

being a soldier. You always get pulled from your company and placed with an entirely new group of people. But we were family… even if we were half a world away.”

She continued to flip through the book. Beth stopped when she saw me in a makeshift medical hospital. “What happened here?”

“My second real mission with the SAS,” I answered. Back then, I had been so eager I was so foolish. “There was hostage crisis in Russia involving a British ambassador. A rogue terrorist

cell from a secessionist region had abducted the ambassador and his family. They planned on ransoming them in exchange for a prisoner. My team was doing exercise in a nearby camp with the Russian military. We were brought in for a rescue mission. You’ll never find it in the news. The MI6 and KBG scrubbed it clean.”

Beth bit her lip and asked. “How did you get injured?”

“We had one of the terrorists dead to rights… and he knew it,” I recounted, taking a deep breath. “He decided to

become a martyr and unpinned the last grenade he had on himself. It hurt like hell but I only received superficial injuries. It was still better than the other guy who lost all of his limbs.”

“Does it scare you?” she asked. “Being in a battlefield? Not knowing if this day would be the last?”

“No, the battlefield had always been my cradle,” I said with a cynical laugh. “The sound of gunfire and rockets were my lullabies. I would go to sleep covered in dirt and blood. No, it’s losing my comrades that scared me.”

I knew what was coming next. “Is that what happened in Syria? That’s where you ended up as the sole survivor.”

“That’s the worst of it,” I sighed, holding back the tears. I was almost embarrassed to show such emotion. Then again, Beth had seen more of my soul than any other woman. “I should’ve fought against the decision to go there. The men looked up to me as a leader and I let my pride win over my better judgment. A court martial is preferable to a death trap. Hell, prison and a firing

squad would’ve been less painful. However, I was too much of a glory hound to refuse a good challenge.”

“This is going to be hard, Alan,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “But I need you to recount what happened.”

“It was supposed to be a routine mission,” I began. “The twelve of us were to extract a VIP, preferably with no one realizing it until it was too late. We were prepared to encounter resistance but our Intelligence suggested just lightly equipped guards. What we found was much worse.”

“How worse?”

“Some ex-general turned warlord was after our target,” I answered. I knew Beth was well-versed enough in military terms so I didn’t have to speak like I would to a layman. “He had intercepted our target’s communications and knew that we were coming. They were prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“These men knew what they were doing,” I continued, stopping only to wet my lips. “Most of the people we’ve fought over the years weren’t professionals. They lacked discipline and training. Just taking one of them out would make the rest scatter like cockroaches. The people we fought in Syria were different.”

“What made them so different?”

“They threw the kitchen sink and the damn kitchen itself at us,” I said, the harrowing experience burnt into my mind. “These men were battle-hardened.

They cut off our path of retreat. They even shot down one of the helicopters that was supposed to extract us. Their troop strength was an entire battalion. Like I said, they were prepared.”

“A battalion?” Beth whispered in disbelief. “How did you survive?”

“I had to request an air strike on myself just to save the target,” I answered. She had heard it before but the weight of it sank into her. “Unfortunately, the career officer overseeing the mission was all too eager to bomb us all to hell. He figured he’d

bury any survivors and spin the whole thing into something that wasn’t an international scandal. The bombs went off like a Fourth of July fireworks display. Friend and foe died alike that day.”

She reached over to grip my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, the VIP made it out alive as well,” I said bitterly. “They got him out and cut a deal with him. He’s off drinking ice tea in the Bahamas while my comrades are lying in unmarked graves. Mission accomplished as far as

that career officer is concerned.”

Beth pulled something out from her pocket. It was the Victorian Cross I had gifted her. “You made it out alive, Alan.”

I couldn’t bear the sight of the war medal. “That trinket’s only good for getting a free pint from your local pub. Good men died that day and I survived.”

“You’re not just a survivor, you’re a hero!”

“What’s heroic about coming back alive? I have no one to come back to.”

“You have me now,” Beth said, her lips so close to mine. “Am I not worth living for?”

“My pride killed them,” I said, looking away. She kept holding onto my hand. “That’s why I took to battle in the first place. I’m afraid it’ll hurt you as well. I’d rather die in a ditch than ever hurt you.”

“I’m not a soldier,” she said with a pause. Her hand turned her head to face her. “But I’m tougher than I look.”

Beth stared back in my eyes. For a moment, I was lost in the deep beauty of her irises. “They’re all gone. I’m a dead man walking. Go on with your life and forget about me-”

“I’m here, Alan,” she said, silencing me with a soft kiss on my lips. “And I’m not leaving you.”

My words lit a fire in his heart. Alan returned my kiss with even more vigor. We began to undress each other as though this was a mad dash to the finish line.

I saw his familiar, muscular body come into view. His cock dangled and slowly grew in girth. I lazily traced a circle around the hard muscle of his

pectorals. His tough skin felt paradoxically smooth and rough.

Our lovemaking was typically a rush to tease me until I was wet. Then, he would fuck me. Yet, he brought his lips to mine and kept kissing for minutes on end.

Alan had learned patience.

I could see the tragedy of his past disappear from the look in his eyes. He focused on the present. He focused on making me feel like the most beautiful

woman in the world.

I felt the stubble on his chin rasp against my skin like a fine-toothed comb. His hands roamed my body and kneaded it. It was so soft and tender. I couldn’t believe this man had been a stone-cold killer during his military career. It was strange to think that the hands of a soldier now cherished me.

His weather-beaten fingers explored the nooks and crannies of my body. I arched my back to allow him to caress my back and buttocks. I moaned and tossed my head to the side as he kneaded

my backside.

His fingers explored the nooks and crannies of my body. I arched my back to allow him to cover my back and buttocks in his warmth. His palms massaged my supple flesh.

Soon, Alan brought a hand to my sex. A finger trailed from my pelvis down to the lowest level of my pussy. His other hand stroked me face. He languidly traced a pattern and lulled me into a false sense of security. Suddenly, he squeezed my clit. I immediately brought my legs as close together as possible.

It was too late to stop him.

Turning his wrist, he entered me with a finger. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. Not venturing into the depths of my pleasure channel, the finger simply remained inside of me. I let out a soft moan. “Oh… Alan…”

Then, he pinched my clit.

My body convulsed at the erotic

gesture. My thighs clamped down on his hand. His finger became an intruder within the interior of my pussy. I felt the nail of the finger rasp against my vaginal walls. In the corner of my eye, I saw his cock grow and grow until it brushed against his taut abs.

He stroked me again and again. I cringed in pleasure from his foreplay. Soon, surprise was lost in the rising sensation of my bliss. He touched me with so much patience and tenderness. I was at the cusp of my climax.

Suddenly, Alan withdrew his hand.

With determination in his eyes, he forced me onto my back. He was done with foreplay.

I felt his long, heavy erection brush up against my thigh. His engorged member moved up to touch the lowest part of my pussy lips.

Wet and ready, he entered me with a groan. I mirrored his grunt of pleasure with a raspy series of cries. He pressed his body against mine and dug it into the bed. I moaned as he took complete control of the situation. Sharing my passion, he pressed his cheek against

mine and kissed the back of my shoulder.

I felt the strong sinews in his legs flex as he administered to me. He entered and exited me in a steady rhythm. It was so kind and gentle. I was seeing a side of Alan he had rarely shown to anyone else.

He poured his soul into me with each undulation. My nails dug into the hard exterior of his skin. The mattress’s springs creaked against the weight of Alan’s mighty thrusts.

I let out a loud ‘Ohhh…’ as he buried his cock to the hilt inside the folds of my flesh. We remained like this for a brief moment. I felt his cock pulse as his orgasm slowly build.

He broke our vow of silence. “You feel so fucking incredible right now.”

“It’s mutual,” I croaked out in between breaths. “It’s pretty… fucking mutual.”

“I’ve fucked you before, Beth. Now… can I love you?”

I placed my head on the mattress. It was a gesture of complete submission. “Yes, love me.”

He leisurely began thrusting into me. He drew out each plunge of his thick shaft into my wet slit. In turn, my hoarse voice drew out the length of my cries. I sensed his orgasm was dangerously close at hand. He draped his heavy, muscular body over my small, lithe torso. I felt his balls smack against me. Passion had taken control of him.

That made two of us.

Soon, our shared orgasm neared its beginning. I sensed the familiar tingling sensation in his cock. I knew couldn’t hold back any longer. I heard him stifle a grunt through clenched teeth. I felt his manhood stir and pump his hot come into my body.

His sticky semen surged deep into my body. He had never gone so deep within my pleasure channel. I was so full and satisfied. His come began dripping down my slit and onto my thighs. I brought a hand to just below where he

penetrated me. I rubbed my come-laden fingers together. It formed a web between my fingers.

Suddenly, Alan picked up my legs and wrapped it around his waist. Instinctively, I straddled him. Looking up at him, I realized just how large of a man he was. I felt like a young girl on the lap of an adult.

Yearning for a kiss, he took my head and his hands and planted his lips on mine. Our arms and legs became interwoven. Kissing him back deeply, I pressed my body flush against him. Our

climaxes spent, I enjoyed the winding down phase of our lovemaking. He didn’t pause to admire my body. He let his actions do the talking. I felt his lips on my breasts. He traveled back and forth between each nipple. The stubble on his face rasped against my skin in a delicious sensation. He trailed his kisses down my navel and just above my pubic hair before stopping to look up at me.

God, he looked so beautiful.

Tears welled up in my eyes as streaks of pleasure raced across my body. I didn’t just feel my physical

pleasure. I sensed Alan’s pleasure as well. I felt the weight of loss in his heart. I sensed his burden lift as he shared his soul with me. In turn, I shared the loss of my parents with him.

With a free hand, Alan trailed a finger across my sweat covered body. We were caked in grit and sweat. Yet, I thought we looked better than ever. It was as if all the emotional turmoil we had held in our hearts was coming out. I hugged Alan and he held me back tightly.

Eventually, we collapsed on the bed. We smelt of raw sex which neither of us

minded. We cuddled for a long time.

“I’m sorry for acting like a drunken fool in your home,” he said, breaking the silence. “I want you to know that I’ll be your faithful patient from now on. I hope you’re looking forward to martialing me like a general.”

I kissed his shoulder. “I do.”

“I feel so much better after talking about Syria with me,” Alan said, his deep voice cracking. “Talking to you… just being around you has helped me.

Having you around… it makes me feel… calm.”

“I don’t just want you as my patient,” I whispered, nuzzling against him. “I love you Alan. It breaks everything I learned in medical school but I’m in love with you.”

“I’ve lost my family twice before,” he replied. “Once when I was orphaned… and again once my comrades died. I won’t lose my family a third time. I won’t lose what Sally and you’ve given me. I may have come to you seeking a nurse but you’re my family

now.”

“Well, as your nurse,” I said, reaching down to his groin. “I’m prescribing you another round of lovemaking.”

Alan smiled back and kissed me again. “Yes, nurse.”

Thank you for reading! Fiona Garland is a former accountant who has turned her pen from legal documents to romance novels. She enjoys thinking of new ideas for her red hot romance stories. She loves to hear from her fans. Contact her at: [email protected]

Enjoy this free bonus story!

What the hell was I thinking?

This wasn’t a night to be driving in

my ramshackle sedan. The sleet had blotted out half of my windshield. Heavy snowfall obstructed what little vision remained. I had expected several inches of snow but this was a never-ending avalanche of ice.

After hearing about the snow warning, I had packed up my bags and headed straight towards an emergency shelter in the city. The news had made it out to be the last bastion of defense against the incoming blizzard. There would be food, medicine, and everything else needed to survive such a force of nature.

The small town I lived in just wasn’t prepared for a snowstorm of that magnitude. I’d probably end up snowed in at my apartment. My roommate had left for her parents’ place a week ago.

However, the state government had closed down half the highways and declared a state of emergency. The other half were snowed-in. I cautiously drove through one of the few remaining highways that could still support traffic.

As luck would have it, I drove straight into a ditch on the side of the

road. I was lucky that my car didn’t flip over. After minutes of fruitlessly hitting the acceleration, I turned on the flashers.

To make matters worse, I wouldn’t be able to get the car back on the road. I had battery power but even that wouldn’t last for much longer. I would have to put the car in neutral, get out, and push it with onto the asphalt. I looked outside the side window and saw snow falling like machinegun fire. Even if I had the strength of a professional weightlifter, the heavy snowfall would make pushing the car a difficult and dangerous task.

I wasn’t stupid enough to wander off into the cold in a desperate bid to get help. Nevertheless, I was on a ticking clock. The heating in the car could only last for so long. My smart phone didn’t get a single bar of reception in this mountainous highway. I didn’t know if I could even last a single day here.

The heavy jacket I had worn earlier seemed like overkill. Now, it didn’t help much against the cold that crept into my car. I needed someone to save me or else I was as good as dead. Unfortunately, I don’t think AAA roamed these parts.

That’s when I heard a tap on the door.

A tall man in a leather jacket stood outside my window. His scarf and the collar of his leather jacket obstructed much of his face. I could only make out his sea-grey eyes. They were alert and intelligent which managed to calm me. For a second, I thought the man was a statue since the cold barely affect him.

He tapped again in impatience. It took me a second to realize he wanted me to lower the side window and talk to me. I took it down just enough for us to

speak without the cold getting in.

His voice was deep yet clear as he spoke. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” I replied, my teeth clattering. I didn’t realize just how chilly it was. “I just need to call a tow truck. Do you have a phone I can use?”

“Trust me, no tow truck is going to make it here within our lifetimes,” he said plainly, dashing my hopes. Considering the circumstances, I didn’t know how long I’d live without help.

“Between the snow and bends in the road, they’ll have to drive like snails to get here. That’s assuming any emergency vehicles are willing to make the trip.”

I cursed under my breath. “Just my luck.”

“However, I do have landline phone you can use at my place,” he offered. I instantly lit up like a Christmas tree. “The reception here is terrible so it pays to have a direct connection. Where are you heading?”

I leaned in to get a better look at him. His leather jacket had a silvery eagle emblem on it. Metal studs lined its shoulders and gave it an intimidating presence.

He looked like one of those obnoxious bad boys I hated being around back in my hometown. But in the biggest snowstorm of the year, I’d take my chances with him. I needed someone to save me.

“The center,” I replied, my teeth rattling. “Could you drop me at the emergency center in the city? It was all

over the news-”

He pointed off into the distance. “The emergency center in thirty-five miles off in that direction. They closed down half the entrances to the city. Assuming we find a decent detour, the traffic alone would keep us from entering it before the day is over.”

“Oh…,” I groaned, my day going bad to worse. “Is there some place nearby I can hole up for the night? Like a motel?”

The man shook his head. “Nothing

but cabins and the odd bothy around these parts.”

“A what?”

“A storm shelter but meant for loggers,” he explained, still standing tall in the horrid weather. I don’t think I saw him even flinch when a gust of chilly wind hit him. “However, you’ll need a key to get into one of them.”

I sighed in defeat. “I see…”

The man scanned the interior of my car with his grey eyes. He seemed reluctant to leave me twisting in the cold. “I can offer you a room at my place, assuming you’re interested.”

Normally, I wasn’t as keen on accepting an offer from a stranger, especially one that looked dangerous. However, there was something comforting about the man. Something in his eyes made me trust him.

And it was cold as hell in my car. “Oh, thank you so much!”

“I can’t leave you here… to freeze,” his voice trailed off, almost sounding pained. It didn’t seem like it was from the cold. “I also have a phone you can use to call anyone who is worried about you.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, the warmth returning to my cheeks. “I just need to call my roommate and tell her I’m still with the living.”

I leaned on one of his broad shoulders as he carefully guided me to

his jeep. His footing was confident and solid as mine was shaky and unsecure. With him by my side, this powerful blizzard didn’t seem all that bad. When we reached the door of his jeep, I rushed into the comfortably heated passenger’s seat.

The man chuckled at my mad dash into his jeep. I didn’t even know his name but I had just trusted my life to him. There would be time for introductions when we were out of the cold. “I’ll take care of your car. Grab that heated blanket on the dashboard and warm yourself up. If you have any wet clothes from the snow, take them off and

put on one the jackets behind your seat.”

He went to my car and turned the flashers off. It gave me a moment to look around his jeep. It was surprisingly clean and well-organized. There were groceries and a first-aid kit in the back seat. There was even a tool kit with some logo on it. It looked like an eagle flying over a motorcycle.

Looking further in the back, I saw something attached to the rear of the jeep. The man had covered it in tarp and secured it to the frame of the jeep with chains and ropes. Squinting my eyes, I

made out the outline of a large motorcycle. Putting two and two together, I guessed that he was a motorcycle enthusiast.

Or an outlaw biker.

Taking the driver’s seat, the man returned and took off his scarf. I nearly gasped when I saw his handsome, chiseled features. His lips curved just shy of a heart-rending smile. His dark hair had become messy from the weather but suited him all the same.

The man’s jacket conformed well to his athletic body. He had the look of a rugged outdoorsman who was no stranger to the elements. It was an effortless look for him but one that no

men’s model had any hope of replicating.

However, his grey eyes had this strange look of longing. They looked like they hadn’t seen another soul in years. For a moment, I just sat and gawked at him like a schoolgirl.

He got my attention by jingling my car keys. “I brought back your keys but I’ll keep them with me for now. I’ll drop you off at my place and come back for your car later. I’ll see if I can get it out of the ditch.”

“Thank you,” I replied breathlessly, clutching the heated blanket even tighter. It helped cover my blushing. “What’s with the bike?”

“I’m a biker,” he answered, hitting the ignition for the jeep. It sounded like he belonged to some motorcycle gang. I didn’t know whether to be filled with dread or curiosity. “That baby’s fitted and rigged for off-road biking but it’s not meant for riding in this weather. Anyway, it’s just five miles to my house.”

The man steadily but surely drove the jeep across the snowy highway. I looked back at the supplies in the back of the jeep. “You look like you were prepared for the snow-apocalypse.”

He chuckled. “Is that what the news is calling it?”

“It’s either that or the IceArmageddon. In any case, you seem to be ready for anything.”

“It pays to be prepared for even the rapture in these parts. It only takes a

storm a few hours to cut off the power and block all the exits. I’ve stocked up on two weeks’ worth of groceries. I also have enough wood stockpiled to last a month.”

“I’m sorry if I’m inconveniencing you-“

“You’re quite the handful in the middle of the worst storm in years,” the biker grinned. “Why doesn’t a girl like you have a boyfriend to help you out in a pinch?”

Even though it brought back painful memories, I could not help but blushed at the question. “Sorry, I’m single now and couldn’t-“

He shot me a half smile. “Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

“Oh!”

“It’s no trouble… it’s basic human decency,” the man replied. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you to these parts? This road doesn’t get too many visitors. You’re lucky I drove here when

I did.”

“With half the exits closed, I got lost after taking the wrong turn,” I sighed. “I planned on going to the emergency center in the city. It was either that or risk getting snowed in at my apartment.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you got stuck in that ditch,” the man replied, glancing into the side mirror. “Just this morning, I heard on the radio that interstate high was closed down.”

“The weather was already that bad

in the morning?”

“No, there was a six car collision,” he answered. “No was seriously hurt but the pile-up closed down the highway.”

“By the way,” I began, feeling the ice break between us. Pun not intended. “What’s your name? My name is Emily.”

“It’s Max,” he answered after a moment of hesitancy. “Max Faulkner. The last name actually came from my wife. I grew up as sort of an orphan… never had a real name or birth certificate

to myself.”

“You took your last name from your wife?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “That must be some story. I’d like to hear it from her.”

For a moment, Max was silent as if evaluating what to say. “She died I’m afraid.”

I cursed at myself for my faux pas. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry, Emily,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago. I’ve mostly been living by myself.”

I decided to change the subject. “How far away is your house?”

“A couple more miles,” he answered, still driving cautiously. The snowfall had cleared up a little bit but not enough to make traveling a pleasure cruise. We couldn’t see too far ahead but at least we weren’t completely blind. “It’s hard to find if you don’t know where to look. Maria, that’s my wife’s

name, and I wanted a place away from the city. So we found a plot of land in the wilderness and built a home there.”

I whistled in amazement. “You built your own home?”

“I may have done the heavy lifting but it was my wife who designed it,” he answered, pride evident in his voice. His grey eyes glistened as if recalling bittersweet memories. “She had a plan for every block of brick and every plank of wood. Maria got her degree in architecture but never got a chance to put it to good use. She made for lost time

with our house.”

“I didn’t think there was a real estate market for these types of places.”

“I got it as a parting gift from the president from my old motorcycle club,” Max explained. The snowstorm still raged on but we were comfortable inside the jeep. “The land was a retirement gift for my years of service. He had won it off a card game but never found a use for it. I worked as sergeantat-arms for the Steel Eagles before I could legally order a drink. That was back when I was working as a gunrunner

down South near the border.”

“That’s right, you said you were a biker,” I replied, curious about the man’s seemingly checkered past. “Did you get into trouble?”

He gave a teasing smile. “Are you asking how much stuff I needed to smuggle across the border before I got on the FBI’s most wanted list?”

I blushed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t probe so much, especially after how much you’ve helped me.”

“Relax, I get that question a lot,” Max chuckled, easing the tension. “I used to deal in trafficking weapons.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“I can’t say I didn’t have a few runins with the law or some other gangs,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Yes, the work was dangerous but the pay was good. We could’ve lived as kings if the IRS wouldn’t ask where we got the money. Now, I’m on the straight and narrow. Then again, once a Steel Eagle,

always a Steel Eagle.”

“Why’d you leave?” I asked. “It sounded like a cushy gig… if you had the stomach for that kind of work.”

Max’s forehead furrowed. “It’s no place to start a family…”

“No need to explain, I understand,” I said, placing my hand on the warm dashboard. “Your wife was a lucky woman to have you.”

“No, I lucked out by falling in love with her,” he said with a laugh. It sounded more exhausted than cynical. “You should hear about how we met.”

It didn’t seem like we were getting to our destination any time soon. “Actually, I’d like to hear it. I love a good story.”

As we talked, the two of us became more comfortable in each other’s presence. I learned that Max had worked as a weapons smuggler for the Steel Eagles. He purchased surplus military goods from the black market or their

usual contacts and got them to people who were willing to pay for them. His motorcycle club pocketed the difference. They made sure that no one got hurt if they could help it. It wasn’t entirely due to any sense of pacifism.

A dead body attracted the feds.

Other rival clubs, however, didn’t have the same standards. They smuggled everything from drugs to European paintings. They even smuggled people.

After one rival, the Black Cobras,

hijacked one of their shipments, the Steel Eagles launched a raid on them. It was both a retaliation and a surgical strike in one dangerous package. An intense firefight followed but the Steel Eagles eventually won the day.

During the raid, they discovered that the Black Cobras were in the middle of trafficking people. Maria was amongst them. In the middle of the deadly firefight, Max had brought her to safety and defended her from the Cobras.

At the time, Maria was a German college student visiting America on a

student visa. Young and naïve, she had met the wrong people and found herself coerced into smuggling for the Black Cobra. They had threatened to kill her loved ones back at Germany if she didn’t obey them.

After the smoke cleared, the Steel Eagles were not sure what to do with the victims. They had launched the raid as vengeance but found themselves in the middle of a human trafficking ring. The club president decided to call the feds and let them handle this. The Steel Eagles knew the FBI would love to swoop in and claim themselves as heroes.

However, Maria worried that she the authorities would deport her after they uncovered her connection to the Black Cobras. Max offered to take her into his care rather than hand her over to the authorities. During the shootout, the two formed a deep bond. It didn’t take long before it developed into true love.

Max and Maria got married a year later. She convinced him to leave the dangerous life of an outlaw biker. He agreed and the two headed up to start a family. She even got Max to enter college and earn a degree in mechanical

engineering.

He gave up his days of reckless biking and gunrunning in order to start a home improvement business. The couple were able to live well and out of the eye of society. Eventually, Maria gave birth to their son, Michael.

“Don’t know why I’m telling you my life story,” he chuckled. “I don’t make a habit of talking about myself.”

“Must be my magnetic personality,” I said, smiling at my lame joke. It got a

soft chuckle out of him at the very least. “At least I know my gallant host a little better.”

Max ended his story there. I guessed that was when tragedy struck his family. More importantly, we had arrived at his home.

His house was a real beauty. Rocks and plaster formed its sturdy base. Thick panes of wood made up its walls. For protection, most of the windows were boarded up or secured with extra sturdy glass. A large tarp covered the roof with reinforced bolts on the ground. It certainly looked like it could withstand the elements.

Parking in the garage, Max left me at his house so I could rest up and clean myself up. The man brought in all the

groceries and supplies he had stockpiled up on for the coming storm. He returned to his jeep with his towing-kit. I was worried about putting him back out there in the snowstorm but he waved off my concerns.

With Max gone for the moment, I made myself at home. There was a fireplace in the living room which Max had encouraged me to use. He had even set it up so I just need to add more wood even fire started to die. Using the nearby poker, I gingerly poked the log, which warmed up the room. Fearful of burning the place down, I didn’t dare add any more wood to the fire.

Taking off my wet clothes, I stripped down to my shirt and panties. I didn’t plan on dressing so immodestly but my spare clothing was in my car. There would be time to change later. Nonetheless, Max would probably think I was trying to seduce him.

I noticed a few photos on the mantelpiece. Many of them were of a beautiful young woman who had to be Maria. There were also a few of the couple with their son, Michael. His son must have been as young as two years old in those photos. I didn’t see any

signs of him in the house. Whatever tragedy had killed his wife must have claimed his son as well.

I heard the front door open and the howl of wind. The sound of Max’s footsteps soon followed. Thankfully, he had carried in some of my belongings with him.

“I pulled your car into the garage,” Max said, handing me my keys. He took a moment to glance at my clothes. Or lack thereof. I blushed but my host continued. “I got some of your luggage with me in case you need a change of

clothes.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning flush. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry.”

Max’s eyes narrowed at my exposed skin. However, it was a look of concern rather than lust. He pointed to a scar on my shoulder. “What happened here?”

“Old bruise from a bicycle accident,” I lied. “You hungry?”

“I am starving actually,” he replied. Max went over to one his grocery bags and rummaged through it. “It’s nothing too fancy but I have mac n’ cheese, ramen packets, some granola bars, and a few other things.”

“Actually, I’d like to cook a meal if you don’t mind,” I replied, shuffling through another bag of groceries. Most of it was packaged foods but there were some fresh vegetables and other produce. There was even a package of whole chickens. He must have gotten them from a local farm. “I think I can cook us a real meal if you’re interested.”

He stroked his chin in interest. It seemed as though he gone a long time without a home cooked meal. “I wouldn’t mind but you’ll have to use a woodstove to cook it.”

I nodded. “I can deal with that.”

I went to work straight away. Max heated up the stove and got some cooking utensils for me. After chopping up some vegetables, I ripped open the packages of noodles and tossed away those small packets of flavoring powder.

Max raised an eyebrow in concern. It must have been the unsophisticated bachelor in him. “You’re tossing the powder?”

“It’s the noodles I want,” I answered. “The power is basically flavored salt. I’m going to add some real flavor to the noodles.”

I cooked a vegetable and chicken broth base for the noodles. I tossed in some vegetables as toppings for the dish. Waiting until the taste was just right, I added in the noodles at the last minute.

This would keep them from overcooking and becoming rubbery. When I was satisfied, I finally served us to bowls of soup and noodles.

“Bon appetite,” I said proudly, placing the bowl in front of Max. “How is it? Go on, be honest.”

He took a sip before slurping down some noodles. “Damn, that’s good.”

I smiled at his praise. Cooking for him was the least I could for him. After all, he had basically saved my life.

As we ate, the two of us talked about his house. It certainly looked strong enough to withstand a blizzard. Indeed, Max had made sure to seal any openings in order to keep the snow out. He had also added in some insulation before winter to further protect the house from the cold.

Nonetheless, Max seemed more concerned about food rather than shelter. There was a small garden Maria had maintained for some small produce. However, it had fallen into disuse after her death. The cold prevented Max from

even attempting to restart it. Without venturing out to resupply, we only had enough food to last us a couple of weeks. Hopefully, it ended before we came to such a point.

It felt strange referring to this struggle as ‘we’ when it was Max’s house. Then again, we were in this together. I intended to help Max as much as possible.

“Your house is beautiful,” I mused. We had finished our meals and kept on talking. “My apartment is just terrible. The walls have cracks. The carpet is

matted. There doesn’t need to be a blizzard raging outside for you to feel cold in there. This place feels like a mansion in comparison.”

Max took our bowls and brought them to the sink. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He gave a tour of his rather spacious house. There were three bedrooms. One was his and the other was meant for guests. I guessed the last one had been for his infant son.

The place also had two bathrooms, a storage room, and a pair of dens. The kitchen had a pantry full of both preserved and fresh ingredients. Max was thankful I was there to make better use of them than he ever could.

When we reached the second floor, I got a good look outside through a window. “Damn, it’s practically an avalanche outside. I think it’s almost up to three feet of snow.”

“It’s worse than I expected,” Max agreed. “Maria and I had been through a lot of storms together but nothing this

ferocious.”

I confidently tapped the wall with my knuckles. “Well, you certainly made a house that could withstand the test of time. The two of you must have had some adventures together in these parts.”

He gave me a bittersweet smile. “I wish she had lived long enough for us to tell you about them together…”

I wanted to slap myself. “Sorry, I keep saying stupid stuff.”

He looked over my shoulder at a family photo. In it, Max leaned against his motorcycle with Maria beside him. She held his child who looked to only a few months old. “It’s alright, Emily. We might as well get to know each other better on the count of us being stuck together for God knows how long. You should know why I live by myself.”

I stared at that photo his lost loved ones. “What happened, Max?”

“There was an accident eight months ago,” he said with a sigh. “I got that call

every man dreads from the police. At first, I thought it was one of the Black Cobras. I thought they had put out a hit on us for revenge. However, I had heard they had disbanded after our raid with most of their members getting arrested by the Feds. It couldn’t have been them.”

“Who was it?”

“Some rich stock broker driving way past the speed limit,” he answered, bitterness evident in his voice. His skin had turned pale. “That man had come here for a party with a few escorts while billing it to his company. He was high on

cocaine and a dozen other drugs when he crashed straight into Maria’s car. He got lucky and only sprained his neck but my family wasn’t as lucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, rage flared up on his handsome face. “The thing was… they were still alive after collisions. That man took my son when he was days away from his third birthday!”

“Oh my God!”

“That man left my family to bleed out in the wreckage,” he continued, agony clouding his grey eyes. “The police found him running from the crash. He was on probation and worried about ending up in jail. If he had the balls to go out and help them, I’d still have my family. I’d still have Maria and Michael…”

It was a gut-churning account of the tragedy. I had never meet Maria or Michael but it hurt to know that they were gone from this world. Max’s lips quivered as if the pain of the past engulfed him with all of his horror.

Yet, I saw the color soon return to his face. There was a look in his eyes that could best be called relief. He must have gone for months without someone to talk to about his feelings. It must have been terrible to keep it hidden in his heart.

I reached out to hold his hand in mine. “Thank you for tell me this, Max.”

Soon, it turned into a hug. I felt his strong arms embrace me. His chest was hard like the armor of a medieval knight.

His face, however, became soft as he pressed his cheek against my head. I didn’t know whether it was for telling me about his grief or saving me. All I knew was that he had exposed a very vulnerable part of himself for me.

Suddenly, we heard a loud metallic sound from below. Although I was puzzled, Max immediately knew what caused it. “Must be one of the power generators. Thank God I kept a backup as a failsafe.”

I shot him a look of concern. “Will we be okay?”

He shrugged. “For now, we should be fine except for a risk of some brownouts. I’d still like to have a backup generator running in case of an emergency. Some of the plumbing here is powered by the generators. However, the spares are stuck in the shed.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable having you go outside lug around a heavy generator through the snow.”

Max nodded in agreement. “I’d prefer not to go out there again if I can

help it. We do have some fallbacks in case we run out of power. I have an icebox for storing food. The stove runs on firewood. I can also set it up for propane in a pinch.”

“How much fuel do you have left for the generators?”

“Outside of a mechanical failure,” he began, stroking his chin in deep thought. “I’d say about a couple of weeks. We could ration if it comes down to the wire. I hope you don’t mind using candles.”

I giggled. “A girl like me loves candlelit dinners.”

We went downstairs and made the necessary preparations. We put the fresh food in the icebox. We kept most of the other stuff in the pantry where it would be safe. If need be, we could move the icebox to the garage and let nature give us a hand.

“Speaking of the garage,” I said, taking a count of how much food we had. “How is my car?”

He looked grim. “It should run but I don’t recommend driving it any time soon. The tires took a beating going through the ice. These roads go through city tires like a knife slicing hot butter.”

“I just got them changed,” I sighed. “Well, we could siphon off the gas in the tank if you need it. It’ll actually go to good use.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After a long and difficult day, I feel asleep on the couch. Max had prepared

the guest room for me but I was too tired to go there. During my sleep, I dreamt of Max.

He looked so gorgeous in my visions. The laughter had returned to his cheeks. His eyes had lost their visage of sorrow. It was as if he had never lost his family.

Max had this irresistible bad boy look to him that would make James Dean proud. His dark hair was windswept as if used to a gust of wind more than the blast air from a dryer. His intimidating appearance hid the dedicated family man

behind the imposing leather jacket.

I couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence. It wasn’t just his tall, wellbuilt body. The man simply gave a damn. He risked his neck to haul me out of the snow. I would be forever indebted to him.

I woke up and found myself draped in a warm woolen blanket. Max must have placed it on me after I dozed off. After stretching, I got up and searched for him.

Unfortunately, the house was dark. Only a few candles and battery-powered lanterns illuminated the room. Looking through a window that was bolted up, I couldn’t make out a damn thing.

I wondered what Max was up to.

I put any I had for attraction for him in the back of my mind. Max was only a few years older than me but it seemed like he was a generation older than I was. He had just been through so much in his relatively short life. The man was a widower who was still recovering from the loss of his wife. I didn’t need to

reopen old wounds.

I walked into the kitchen I saw Max pouring some cereal. He was shirtless and I could see the toned muscles of his back. When he noticed me, the man smiled and prepared another bowl of cereal for me. “Morning, I hope you don’t mind corn flakes for breakfast.”

“Good morning,” I replied, turning flush at his state of undress. Then again, he probably didn’t have to worry about modesty when he was the only one living here. “Why is it so dark in here? Did the generator go out?”

“No, I just got an early start on rationing fuel,” he answered, opening a carton of milk. “As for why it’s dark, the windows are frosted over. By the way, you want milk?”

“No, I’m okay with eating it dry,” I said, getting up to look through a window. “No kidding! I can barely make out what’s out there.”

“It just doesn’t stop,” he sighed, pouring two cups of coffee. “I like my coffee black but do you want cream and

sugar in yours?”

“Just the cream.”

Max served me a bowl of cereal before sitting next to me. Ignoring his own bowl of cereal, he fidgeted with a strange looking radio, “It’s good to have company for breakfast.”

“Likewise,” I replied. My morning consisted of scarfing down a bagel and a latte before work. Or trying to find work. “What’s with that thing? Is it a radio?”

“A police radio,” he answered. “During my biker days, we used it to evade cops. Now, it’s a good way to listen for emergency messages. Normally, this place doesn’t get good reception here for cell phones, internet, or just about anything that’s wireless.”

“Can you talk to the police with it?”

“No, this model is just a receiver.”

“You find anything interesting on the radio?” I asked, poking at my cereal with a spoon. “Anything about when the weather will clear up?”

“Other than a ham radio station by someone into Russian music, it’s mostly been static,” he answered, tuning the radio. It spurted out electronic gibberish. “Finish up your cereal, Emily. You’ll need your energy.”

I giggled. “Okay, dad.”

Max joined in on my laughter. I felt

better seeing him act cheerier. He must have gone months without sitting down and having breakfast with someone else in his home. Together, we ate, talked, and listed to the snow pile up outside of us.

It could be weeks before it was safe to go outside. Thankfully, Max had prepared well for this blizzard. We had enough food and fuel to make it through the next couple of weeks. We also had enough firewood to for the woodstove and the fireplace. At least for water, we could melt and filter the snow.

After putting on a shirt, Max tended carefully to the fireplace with a poker. He was vigilant of feeding too much wood into fireplace. I liked being warm but I didn’t plan on dealing with house fire. Nonetheless, the fireplace bathed the living room with a gorgeous glow. I leaned over Max’s shoulder and said. “Your house is just beautiful. I never get tired of looking at it. It feels like something out of a fairy tale.”

“The view from the attic is great,” he mused, finally satisfied with the fire. “Maria and I would go up there in the Summer and just watch the stars at night.”

“I’d like to see it one day.”

“And I’d like to take you up there,” he said, his eyes reminiscing about the past. “But it’s as cold as an icebox there. I have to get around to adding more insulation up there.”

Max stood up beside me and gazed at the fire. The man was so gorgeous. His shirt did little to hide his muscular body. I saw toned flesh and dark tattoos where his shirt failed to cover. A few scars attested to his violent past but did little

to diminish his attractiveness

Any woman would have given a kidney to spend a night with him. Max must have gone for months without being intimate with a woman. I’d just have to charm him…

I cursed myself for thinking such perverted thoughts about a widower. The man was at his most vulnerable. I didn’t need to further torment him just for a night of passion.

The two us just basked in the warm

glow of the fireplace. Eventually, Max turned to me and said. “I’m going to go down check up on the generator. We can use candles for lighting but we need the generator’s power for plumbing.”

While he headed down to the basement, I changed into some of my spare clothes. I hadn’t packed much but I had a few sets of clothing to cycle through. I wore some sweatshirts and some sweatpants that would help me keep warm.

I went downstairs to check on Max. I poked my head around the corner and

saw him checking the side of a power generator. It hummed like an oversized electric shaver. However, my eyes were on the man beside it.

Max leaned over the mechanical contraptions and pulled at a part inside of it. The sinews in his strong body flexed as he did his work. The man’s torso was broad and almost bull-like. He had a pair of powerful legs to support his powerful frame. I felt like a perverted voyeur watching him like this.

Suddenly, the man’s shoulders jerked awake when he saw that I was spying on

him.

“Sorry, you scared me,” he said, looking the slightest bit embarrassed. “I’m just not used to someone else living here.”

I glanced at the generator. “Is something wrong, Max?”

“No, just a wire got loose and kept hitting fan,” Max shook his head. For good measure, he hit a button and activated the generator. It was loud but didn’t stop us from conversing. “It’s

didn’t affect the generator’s performance but the sound just drove me crazy.”

I listen to it hum. “What do we need power for again?”

“There’s an aquifer below this house,” he explained, giving the generator a last minute inspection. “There’s a well in the back I use to draw water but it’s frozen shut. Thankfully, I can also pump it directly into the house if I use the generator. I can also use the power to heat up the water if need be.”

“We could heat up water on the stove,” I suggested. “My family did that during a blackout when I was a kid. It’ll help save some power.”

He smiled at me in approval. It made me feel like we were a team. “That sounds like a better idea. But first, I need to take a count of how much fuel I have and store it properly.”

The two of us went to work taking inventory of supplies. We had a few canisters of fuel for the generator. We had oil for the lanterns. There was also some propone for a gas powered stove

he kept as backup. The man looked prepared for the zombie apocalypse from the looks of things.

Max moved the fuel canisters into a storage space in the basement. It would keep them safe from the elements or if a fire broke out in the basement. Rolling of my sleeves, I tried to get on my knees and help him but my hair kept getting in the way. Unfortunately, I left my hairband upstairs.

To my surprise, Max stepped in and began trying my hair. Within seconds, he had turned my head into a rather elegant

bun. “Where did you learn to tie here like that?”

“Maria loved having her hair tied by someone else,” he said wistfully, skillfully putting on some final touches. “I guess it was a German thing. Before we went to bed, she’d make me tie her hair as practice. At first, I mangled that beautiful hair of hers. Eventually, I got good enough to do it with my eyes closed.”

“I could use a personal hairdresser.”

“And I could use some who actually knows how to cook.”

The both of us had a laugh at that.

After taking turns cleaning up in the shower, we cooked lunch. Or I cooked lunch to be more precise. I made Max chop up some vegetables as I prepared some pasta. The blizzard raged outside but I didn’t care. Soon I was as warm and happy as I had ever been.

Afterwards, we played some boards games. They were fun and didn’t eat up

in electricity. Max proved to be a rather skilled player at Hungry-Hungry Hippos.

I couldn’t help but be somber at the prospect. These games were likely purchased for Max’s son as he got older. He should’ve been playing with Maria and Michael instead of a stranger like me.

Having been thoroughly defeat, I leaned against Max and watched the lit fireplace. I reach out to hold his hand. It was more out of instinct than a deliberate desire of intimacy. His body was warm and strong like a stone pillar

under a hot sun.

I pressed my chest against his arm. His body was like a whirlpool drawing mine in. In another life, we would’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend enjoying a quiet afternoon together.

Suddenly, Max broke away and put some distance between us. I felt like I had committed some faux pas towards my gracious host. Immediately, the tension sprung up between us like a rebuilt Berlin Wall.

He headed towards the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have for dinner.”

Dinner was much less awkward. We dined on smoked salmon and vegetables. To my surprise, salmon would sometimes spawn in these parts despite its distance from the coast. Although local fishermen sold a variety of catches, Max usually fished for them himself. He smoked the salmon so that he could preserve them for the future.

Feeling festive, Max broke out a bottle of champagne. One of his clients had given it to him as thanks for helping

rebuild his home after a fire destroyed it. I whistled in admiration of the vintage drink. “This must have cost a thousand dollars. You seriously never even opened it?”

“Even back during my biker days, I never liked drinking alone,” he shrugged, popping the cork. Max poured two drinks in beer mugs. It was all he had available at the moment. “It always made me feel like some alcoholic. Eagles always feast together.”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s true,” I giggled, tapping my glass against his.

“But cheers!”

We drank the entire damn bottle before retiring on the couch. We snuggled together as best as a platonic couple could. Max would get up to stroke the fireplace with a poker before returning to me. For the second straight night, I fell asleep on the couch.

This time, however, I wasn’t the only one. Max had fallen asleep on the couch as well. It was well-deserved rest after a stressful day.

He had taken off his shirt, which revealed the toned muscles of his torso. His muscles had grown slack during his slumber but were still impressive nonetheless. I wondered if it had been deliberate or was just as tired. Nonetheless, it looked like he was sound asleep.

I noticed that the shriek of icy wind had ended. I wondered if the blizzard had subsided for the moment. However, I wasn’t eager to go out and see for myself.

The fireplace had gone dark but the glow of a lone candle illuminated the man’s body. A life of hard work had reward him with an impressive physique. Intricate tattoos and faint scars marked his athletic frame. I was tempted to trace a path across an elaborate eagle tattoo on his back.

As much as I would’ve liked to stay and ogle him, I was also hungry. I got up to make breakfast in the kitchen. Raiding the icebox and the pantry, I found some fresh eggs. It was probably a good idea to go through the food that had an expiratory date on them. I began cooking eggs and toast on the stove.

Soon, Max woke up and saw me flipping eggs. There was a nostalgic expression on his face. I wondered how many times he had woken up to find his wife cooking breakfast. He must have kissed her on the cheek and twirled her around like in a sappy romance movie. They would sit with their infant child at the table and talk about mundane things. That should have been his life.

After a quiet breakfast, Max went out to the storage shed in the back. It held fuel for the generator and lamps. There was also some firewood that he didn’t

need at the moment. More importantly, there was a pump in the shed he could use to siphon fuel from cars. I worried about him heading out into the cold by himself. However, the man brushed off my concerns. “It looks like the snowstorm has slowed down for the moment. I don’t know if I’ll get another opportunity to haul stuff from the shed.”

“While you’re out there, siphon the gas from my car,” I offered. “Put it to good use. It’s not doing anyone a favor just congealing in the fuel tank.”

The biker nodded. “I will.”

He came back covered in snow and smelling gasoline. Like a strict mother, I made go clean off in the shower. Nonetheless, Max had a pretty good haul. We would be able to survive for a month if the weather conditions continued to be so severe. This was feeling less like an emergency and more and more like a vacation.

Max came out of the shower with a towel around his waist. He used a hand towel to dry his hair. It looked wet and shiny like silk under a rainfall. I stepped in to help comb his hair.

After a few minutes, he admired the James Dean look I gave him. “You’re good at combing hair.”

“And you’re good at braiding hair,” I retorted. It felt nice to return the favor, especially with him only wearing a towel. “My mother worked as a hairdresser. I never knew her very well but some of her skills rubbed off on me. It must be genetic.”

“I never had much of a family,” he revealed absentmindedly. “My father

was a hired gun for the Steel Eagles. My mother was a waitress he dated. She served him coffee at the diner he went for breakfast.”

“My parents met the same way,” I replied. “Dad met mom when she was a teenager cutting hair on weekends.”

“My mother died when I was a toddler. She had always been a sickly woman.”

“Did she go to a hospital for help?”

“No, she was an illegal immigrant from a war torn country in Eastern Europe,” Max sighed. “My mother came here as a stowaway in a cargo ship. She was afraid getting medical attention get her jailed or deported. My birth had almost claimed her life. After she died, I ended up living with my father.”

“That’s awful,” I gasped, momentarily stopping my combing. “What about your father? Did you live with him and his motorcycle club?”

“When I was five, he died during a

shootout,” he said, continuing his tragic tale. “The Steel Eagles took me in since they respected my father. He had fought and bled for them so they wanted to make sure I was taken care of. They fed and clothed me. They taught me to fight with my fists, ride a motorcycle, and shoot a gun. They also made me take up my father’s mantle. I was a gunrunner when most teenager were worrying about pimples and the school prom.”

“If the club was that important to you, then why did you leave?”

“I never planned on leaving,” he

admitted. “For years, I didn’t think much about the world outside of the motorcycle club’s four walls. Maria changed all of that. She made me question my ties to the Steel Eagles.”

“And your club just let you go?”

“Just like my old man, I had fought and bled for them,” he answered, his fingers tracing a scar on his shoulder. It looked like a bullet wound that had entered and exited him. It seemed like it had missed any major internal organs. We had something in common after all. “I had earned the right to leave. Besides,

they were scared of Maria.”

My eyes widened in disbelief. “Some tough motorcycle club was afraid of a German college student?”

“More of what she represented,” he clarified, flashing a bright smile. “I felt truly happy in being with her. It reminded me of when my mother held me as a child. She would talk to me about growing up into a good man… back before the Eagles and my father took me away. To be honest, I was a little scared of Maria myself.”

“You were afraid of her?”

“The Eagles were taught to keep their emotions locked up inside of them,” Max said, almost sounding as if he were quoting someone. “Emotions are dangerous in that line of work. I believed that… until I met Maria.”

“One woman did that?”

“She showed me there was more to life than the Steel Eagles,” Max continued, his eyes looking wistful.

“Maria opened my eyes to a humble life with a real family. Not one of violence and killing. Soon, the place I had called a home became a prison. I told the club president I planned on leaving with Maria.”

“How did that go?” I asked. “I can’t imagine it’s as easy as giving your boss the usual two weeks’ notice.”

“It was dangerous to challenge him but we had to leave,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. It was like he was massaging long dormant memories in his head. “Surprisingly enough, he

understood where I came from. At first, I thought it was due to the respect he held for my late father. However, he had faced the same dilemma that I had.”

I put the pieces together. “He fell in love with a woman…”

“And he choose the club over her,” Max replied, almost letting out a cynical laugh. “He knew the power of what I felt for Maria and he was afraid of it. As club president, he was terrified of the bikers loving someone more than they loved the club. Inside its walls, the club could control us. It could mold us into

whatever he or the next club president wanted us to be.”

“So he was afraid of your bond with Maria becoming stronger than your bond with the club.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I made the choice he couldn’t. I had never thought I’d start a normal life and raise a family. Maria opened up my eyes. I saw what happened to my dad when he put the club before his family. He died alone over a stupid deal that went bad.”

“I’m sure your mother would’ve been proud,” I said in admiration. I reached out to rest my hand on his shoulder. My hair cascaded upon his bare skin. “And Maria as well. She must’ve been a special woman.”

“She was,” he said with a bittersweet smile, his shoulders slumping. “And now I’m back to being alone.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, locking eyes with him. I placed my head opposite his. “I’m here for you.”

Max reached out touch my cheek with the back of his hands. His weatherbeaten knuckles gently rasped against my skin. His grey eyes seemed like a pair of blizzards that were even more intense. I leaned in to get a better look at them. So much passion and pain swirled in each iris. Our lips were just millimeters from each other. I wanted to ease the tension and pain in his beautiful grey eyes.

Then, we kissed.

His lips were as warm and welcoming as the fireplace he tended.

Max made the log burning in the hearth seem like a mere firecracker. The man’s body was like a wildfire setting the forest of my heart ablaze.

In these cold days, I had forgotten what it was to be truly safe and warm. It wasn’t just thick clothing or a good heating system that kept a person warm. It was the warmth that came from love and companionship.

I felt him grasp the sides of my face with both hands. Max kissed me even deeper with his tongue holding down mine like depressor. My fingertips

traced the muscular panes of his bare chest.

Suddenly, he broke away from me. Conflicted emotions clouded his grey eyes. I almost blurted out a ‘sorry’ before holding my tongue. I honestly didn’t know what to say that would make the situation less awkward.

For a moment, there was only silence except the howl of wind outside.

“I’m heading to the garage,” he said, avoiding my gaze. Max went to get

dressed. It felt like he was putting on a piece of armor to shield himself from me. “Do you need anything from your car?”

I was as flush as a strawberry. “No, I’m good.”

Max went into the garage and disappeared for a better part of an hour. I made some hot dogs for us it. I let the links stew in the pot while I fished through the pantry for toppings. They were easy enough to make. It gave me time to think about our relationship.

And rehearse a hundred different apologies.

I didn’t know what exactly I felt for Max. It was a mix of admiration, attraction, and empathy. I felt as much love a woman could for a man she had just met. Yet, I respected the pain that still lingered in his heart. It felt callous to pick at it while it still healed.

Max returned when I finished laying the hotdogs on their buns. “Do you want anything special on yours?”

“Smells good,” he said, breathing in the aroma of the freshly cooked food. “Just ketchup, mustard and relish. I’m not too fancy about what I put on meat in tube form. I picked it up from Maria. Germans like having as little garnishing on their sausages as possible.”

I handed him his hotdog. “Okay, just the essentials for you.”

“Thanks,” he replied, immediately chowing down on his hotdog. “Tastes great.”

The two of us sat and ate together. We talked about everything except for the awkward kiss we had mere moments ago. If anything, avoiding the subject made me think about it even more about the gorgeous man next to me.

My nipples grew hard but it wasn’t from the cold. I imagined his hand cupping my breasts and pinching hard on them. I wanted to kiss his warm lips again. I wanted him to suckle my lower lip before plunging his tongue deep into me.

Finally, Max broke the awkward

silence and my perverse thoughts. “I supposed we should talk about what happened earlier, Emily.”

“I just keep saying stupid stuff,” I sighed, wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear. “You must think I’m the worst guest ever.”

“No, the worst guest I ever had was a traveling salesman who tried to sell me a used ottoman,” he laughed. I joined in a girlish giggle. I was relieved that the tension was somewhat relieved between us. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a lovely, charming

girl.”

I shot him a look of disbelief. “You really think so?”

“I never lie to a lady. Eagle’s honor.”

I sucked in my lower lip. “But I’m not beautiful like Maria.”

“I had my romance with Maria… but it’s time to move on,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s what she would’ve

wanted… but you deserve better, Emily. You deserve someone better than a shell of a man…”

I almost wanted to laugh. The biker didn’t know just how gorgeous and charismatic he was. I guessed it was a side effect of living by himself in the middle of nowhere. This place probably didn’t get it share of young women in need of a handsome boyfriend.

“But I want you, Max,” I replied, placing a hand on his cheek. I felt it slowly swell and deflate under my fingers. “You’re the kindest man I have

ever known.”

I tugged at the neck of his t-shirt. I saw the toned musculature peeking over the rim of his shirt. My eyes trailed down to his groin.

In turn, I began to unbutton my shirt. I revealed my bra-clad breasts to him. Taking off my shirt, I began to remove my sweat pants as well.

Suddenly, Max reached out to stop my hand. “We can’t do this, Emily. I don’t want you to do this out of a sense

of obligation. I may be your savior… but I can’t be your lover.”

“I don’t think of you as just my savior,” I replied, feeling his grip loosen around my hand. “At first, I wasn’t sure I could even trust you. I’ve always had a thing against bad boys. But you’ve shown me that you’re more than a leather jacket and a bike strapped to a pickup jeep.”

He started to speak. “Emily-“

But I silenced him with a finger

before pressing my body against him. Taking off my finger off his mouth, I replaced it with my lips. Our mouths became locked in a passionate kiss. His tongue yearned for more but I broke it off before he got what he wanted. “I need you, Max.”

He stared at me as if lost in a daze. I wondered if old memories of Maria flooded back into his mind. They had been through much together. Max had fought for her. He had even left the motorcycle club that raised him to start a new life with her.

Max looked like he had lost a limb. It was the same look I had seen in war veterans. When I was younger, I had volunteered in nursing homes and halfway houses for soldiers returning from wars. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see them come back missing an arm or a leg. Sometimes, they would continue to fell pain in their toes or fingertips in the missing limb. It was called phantom pain and it was said to be a trick of the mind. Nonetheless, the look of loss was there on Max’s face.

I wasn’t vain enough to think I could replicate the passionate romance they shared. I was like a camp fire compared

to the wildfire that was Maria. Nonetheless, I wanted to comfort Max and keep his heart warm.

“I’ve always been afraid to care about other people, Emily,” he sighed. “Life was so cheap back when I was with the Steel Eagles. The people you knew could die at any moment. I could wind up dead. People I knew could wind up joining a rival club and fighting against me. There wasn’t any point in getting close to anyone I knew. Yesterday’s friend could be tomorrow’s enemy.”

“Then you met Maria…”

“When I saw your car, I was tempted to leave you there,” he said, looking away. His forehead became tinged with shame. “I didn’t want to get close to anyone else ever again. But I couldn’t after what had happened to Maria and Michael. I thought about just getting you to where you needed to go before never seeing you again.”

“But you didn’t,” I said with a smile. With a finger under his chin, I turned his head to face mine. “You gave me a place in your home. Now, if you can manage

it… I’d like a small piece of me in your heart.”

Max tugged the side of my pants. “I can.”

I didn’t bother resisting as he picked up my body and gently laid it on the couch. He pulled my pants down my legs. My bra and panties soon followed.

Max’s hands caressed the side of my body before moving up to cup my breasts. I leaned in for a hard kiss. Soon, I locked my hands around his neck and

pulled him into a deeper kiss. I felt his palms grope my ass as our tongues tangled.

Breaking away for a moment, my lover leaned over to kiss my tender breasts. I let out a lingering sigh as he suckled a nipple before moving onto the other one. “Oh… Max…”

Down under, I felt his hand massage my thighs. He relieved me of any tension that remained in me. I could feel his knuckles brush up against my wet sex.

I brought my legs together around his hand. It wasn’t to hold him back. It was just the opposite. I wanted him to go deeper. Indeed, Max began to play with my stiff clit.

In fact, he played me like a piano. He would open up my legs by sucking my tits. A gentle nibble would spring my thighs wide open. My pussy was as wet as the saliva dripping down his chin.

Max entered my very wet sex. My body immediately grew stiff as if someone had put puppet strings on me. I shivered in feverish delight. My vision

got momentarily blurry but I could make out Max’s grey eyes.

The pierced my soul as he questioned me. “You love this, don’t you?”

I stuttered as if grasping wildly for intelligible words. “I- yes… oh!”

He turned on the heat by pinching harder on my nipple. “I’ll ask you again, do you love this?”

“I love it!”

He squeezed even harder. “Say it again!”

“I love it!”

“Say it like it’s your sermon!”

I screamed at the top of my lungs. “I fucking love it! I love you!”

I practically tackled the larger man onto the couch. Pressing myself flush against him, I straddled his hips. I bent back like a bow and placed on my hands on his chest for balance.

Taking charge again, Max flipped me onto my back in one swift motion. After taking off his clothing, he gripped both of my calves. Placing my legs above my shoulders, I felt his shaft touch the lips of my sex. He rubbed it against my body without ever entering me. I didn’t have to guess what was coming next.

Gently, he entered past the soft flesh of my slit. I reached down with a hand to help guide his cock. For a moment, he stopped and rubbed the sides against the lips of my sex in a circular motion. I wondered if this was how Maria liked to have sex. I found that it pleased me as well.

The look in Max’s eyes suggested he had the same thoughts. Nonetheless, the biker regained his focus and locked his eyes with mine. That’s when I noticed that tears were rolling down my cheeks. Making love to Max was almost like a religious experience.

He went deeper into me as my moistness overwhelmed him. I felt as fragile as a porcelain doll before such a powerful man. Yet, I knew Max would be gentle and considerate with me. I almost wanted to laugh at how I had fallen so hard for a bad boy.

“Make love to me, Max,” I said breathlessly, tugging at his muscular body. “I want you inside of me!”

My eyes opened wide when he placed his shaft at my opening. I arched my back and my toes dug into the soft

cushioning of the couch. It pulled him downward against me. Little by little, his cock sheathed itself inside of my sex.

I convulsed like a mental patient. Only Max’s strong, heavy body kept me from falling off the couch. I lifted my feet and dug my heels against his back.

When I calmed down, Max slowly pumped into me. I was wet enough for him to penetrate me with relative ease. Nonetheless, I was still tight as a drawn noose. It didn’t stop my lover from thrusting in and out of me with increasing speed.

Soon, Max began to hit his stride. My body shook violently whenever he drove his prick inside of me. My hips bucked wildly as though I were a mechanical bull throwing off its challenger. However, Max was more than up to the challenge. I punctuated each motion with a soft moan that lingered in the air.

He fucked me with complete and utter abandon. “Oh Emily… God you feel amazing…”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” I chanted, clutching his back like a drowning woman to a life raft. The sense of euphoria from my climax made me writhe in ecstasy. “Please fuck me, Max!”

I turned my head and ground my cheek against the couch as he came inside of me. My lover groaned and kept plunging into me with his tool. Our bodies shuddered as they both searched for guidance and stability.

With a grunt, Max fell to my side. I let go of his back and allowed him some

space on the couch. We were both tired and covered in sweat. The cold and the snow seemed to be a lifetime away. It didn’t take long for us to snuggle and drift into sleep. I felt warm and secure in his arms.

“What does this mean, Max?” I asked. The dynamic of our relationship had changed dramatically in the past few minutes. “For us?”

“It means whatever we want it to mean,” he answered, kissing me soft on the cheek. “For now, just enjoy the moment.”

For the first time since I met him, there was a genuine look of peace on Max’s face.

I awoke in a different bedroom. It was where Max slept. He must have picked me up and placed me there by his side.

Looking through a nearby window, the blizzard looked fiercer than ever before. Max and I had hoped it would die down and we could go out for more supplies. It didn’t seem like we were leaving anytime soon.

However, the sight of Max convulsing beside me on the bed cut my thoughts short. I saw him toss and turn under the blankets without ever opening his eyes. It was as if a he couldn’t break out of a nightmare. I heard him mumbles words that unmistakably sounded like ‘Maria’ and ‘Michael.’

I grasped his shoulder and shook him. “Max? Are you okay? Max! Talk to me!”

His eyes opened wide before shutting themselves again. He seemed almost blinded by the light. Max wiped

the sweat of his brow before focusing on my face. “Emily?”

I couldn’t help but feel that he had mistaken me for Maria. “You were having a nightmare, Max.”

With tears in his eyes, his next words confirmed it. “I thought she was alive and I left her out in the cold…”

I rocked his head back and forth. “It’s okay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to act like a tough guy around me.”

He didn’t hide his emotions as I cradled him in my arms. We didn’t talk but instead communicated through our actions. I held and comforted him as if he was a lover of ten years.

Our night of passion had changed our relationship. Maria may have comforted him and patched him up emotionally when the pain of the past reared its head. Now, she was gone and it was up to me to help Max. He had been my savior but he needed some saving of his own.

Finally, Max spoke after brushing his knuckles against the side of my nude body. “That was some night we had.”

“More like a lunch break,” I replied with rosy cheeks. I caught a glimpse of myself in a nearby mirror. My hair was a total mess and I looked like I had one wild bedtime encounter. Then again, it was completely true. “Damn, we slept past dinner. At least we got plenty of rest.”

Max gave me look of longing. “I wish I had dreams about you.”

I bit my lower lip before speaking. “But I wasn’t in it. It was Maria, right?”

He nodded. “And it scares me.”

“A dream scares you?” I said incredulously. “It’s just some electrons firing off in your brain. It’s all in your head.”

“No, it’s not that,” he sighed. “I’m afraid of letting my guard down again.”

“I don’t understand, Max…”

“I’m afraid of letting of falling in love again,” he answered, regaining his composure. Max seemed to be drawing strength from my support. “I put on the same emotional armor I wore during my days at the Steel Eagles. I was afraid to get close to anyone again. I would go for weeks without any real human contact. I just didn’t want to get hurt again. But I can’t deny the feelings I have for you, Emily. You’ve stripped me of my armor.”

“Well, I’m pretty damn scared too,” I said, turning flush at his praise. “I know Maria meant so much for you. She just seems so beautiful and thoughtful. I don’t know if I can ever be the same for you.”

“You think Maria was born into that strong, beautiful woman?” he smiled. “She came into this country as a shy college student who could barely string an English sentence together. Maria grew into the person I fell in love with. You don’t have to be a ‘Maria.’ You can be yourself.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure being me is

making me any more attractive. I’m clumsy and say the stupidest things at the least opportune times.”

“Maria snored,” he chuckled. “She was irritable. We got into fights over who had to do the dishes. I loved every flaw and imperfection she had. It reminded me that I was in love with a real human being instead of a brother-inarms or a motorcycle club. Just be yourself, Emily. If you can’t, I’ll be there to help you find out the person you want to be. It’s what Maria and I did for each other.”

“Thank you, Max.”

“Relax, I’m not asking you to marry me,” he said with teasing smile. “I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to be a part of. But I want to start something with you if you’re willing to join me.”

“Sorry, I’m can’t help but be a little apprehensive about starting a relationship again,” I replied with a sigh. I wasn’t even sure how long I would stay with Max in his home. “A few days ago, I thought I’d be a single woman freezing up by her lonesome self

in an emergency center.”

Max planted a soft kiss on my lips. “Don’t be. I don’t expect you to be Maria. Moreover, I won’t pretend to be your old boyfriend. We’re our own people.”

“My old boyfriend…” I began, fighting back a flash of painful memories. “He was not a good man.”

Max’s eyes narrowed in concern before focusing on the scar against my shoulder. “Did he hurt you?”

“His name was Todd,” I said, evading his question. I supposed that was answer enough. “I met him when I was young and stupid… but it’s all in the past…”

His face flared up in anger. I could see the dangerous biker of yesteryear in him. “Does he still bother you, Emily?”

“No, he’s long gone,” I answered, hesitant to go further. However, Max deserved the truth after how he had opened up to me. “I stayed with Todd for

longer than I should have. It wasn’t because I loved him or anything. I was just scared to leave him. He was the first person I had a real relationship with… if you can call it that. One day, I couldn’t take it and left him.”

“Good,” he said proudly. “It was brave of you to leave him. Not a lot of people have the courage to leave a bad situation.”

“Even you?”

“I lived with the Steel Eagles for

years,” he said with a shrug. “If I had stayed with them, I would have ended up living alone as some Captain. That’s assuming I was lucky and didn’t end up dead in a firefight.”

“Todd made me swear off bad boys for life,” I giggled. “Present company not included.”

Max held his hand up as if swearing a mock oath. “This bad boy is now a boy scout.”

I leaned up against his nude body and

kissed him. “Well, I like a bad boy every now and then.”

I began to caress the hard contours of his abs. I felt the warm muscles in his body shift under my soft touch. Our encounter last time had been a bit rushed. I didn’t get an opportunity to appreciate his sexy body. I felt a shiver run up and down my spine as I explored his body.

Nonetheless, Max seemed a little hesitant. A part of him seemed conflicted with embracing me back. I wondered if we had rushed things too quickly. The

death of Maria was still fresh on his mind. I knew he wanted to move on but a piece of his heart longed for her.

In all honestly, I wasn’t sure about what I felt for Max. I thought for sure I’d fall for a sexy guy like him. More importantly, he was my savior from certain death. He would always be an important part of my life. Yet, I wasn’t sure if our paths were the same or would diverge in the near future.

Eventually, Max broke away. “I’d love to, Emily… I’d really love to but I’m feeling pretty damn hungry. Let’s

have some dinner first.”

I corrected him. “Breakfast.”

“What?”

“I think it’s morning,” I giggled. “We slept through the entire night.”

“Breakfast it is then.”

After getting dressed, we pulled out all the stops for breakfast. Max couldn’t cook but he knew how to make a mean cup of coffee. He even used a French Press when brewing coffee.

His eggs weren’t that bad either. He made it benedict style with some spices. I guessed Maria had taught him how to prepare those.

I went to work on the eggs and toast.

I also made some baked beans to give add an English twist to it. I added in some strawberries as well. It would be better to eat them now than risk them going bad.

Max kissed me before placing a cup of freshly brewed to my side on the counter. “Smells good. I always end up burning my bacon.”

“My secret is to turn off the heat when the color starts to change,” I explained, feeling him hug me around the waist. “You have to watch the heat since it still cooks after you turn off the stove

and serve it on a plate. If you take it off the stove when it’s partially cooked, it’ll finish cooking just about when it’s ready to serve.”

He seemed more interested in me than in my cooking. Max gripped my waist even tighter. “Haven’t had a fancy breakfast like this quite some time.”

“Please,” I said, lifting the pan off the stove. With the bacon ready, I took it out of the pan placed it on the plate where it sizzled. “You talking like this is the French Laundry.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “The French what?”

“You philistine,” I chided, placing the plate on the kitchen table. Breakfast was finished. “It’s a fancy restaurant in San Francisco. I always wanted to go there but it was just way too expensive for me. An eight course meal over there costs a small fortune.”

Max sat across from me at the table. “You’re from the West Coast?”

I nodded. “I was born there. I left about a year ago to start a new life around these parts. I just wanted to get away from that place… and the people there.”

“Is that why you moved in-land?” he asked, hesitant to probe further. “To get away from your ex?”

Shaking my head, I poked my toast with a fork. “No, there were a lot of reasons. My father for one thing.”

“Your father?”

“My dad was a cop,” I said, reminiscing about the past. “After mom died, I had to hold down the fort at home. He was always too busy with work. Dad would be in and out of the house like a ghost while I slept.”

“Dad was cop, huh?” Max replied. “I guess that’s why you never liked bad boys.”

“No, that was Todd,” I corrected. “Anyway, Dad died when I was just coming out of college. It was a traffic

ticket that went wrong. Dad had promised me he would cut back on his hours so he could spend more time with me. He told me he regretted seeing his little girl grow up without him…”

We were both quiet for some time before Max spoke. “That’s sad to hear.”

“I was lost after his death,” I said absentmindedly. “Between just growing up and dealing with his death, I was desperate for someone to help me. That’s how I ended up with Todd.”

“Who was he?”

“Some rich kid I met through college,” I answered. “He was persistent and I gave in after Dad died. He was rich and had a nice car. I was young and stupid. We were a match made in hell.”

He reached across the table to touch the faded scar on my shoulder. Anger flashed briefly in his eyes. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

“He hurt me in a lot of ways,” I

sighed. “I was just so depressed at the time. It was like I was perpetually drowning with each waking minute. I wanted some to help… to save me. But Todd just made it worst. He dragged me under the water.”

“What made you leave?” Max asked, before a pang of regret hit his face. “Sorry, I should be asking these questions.”

“No, it’s okay,” I replied, blushing at his show of sensitivity. “You told me about your past in all fairness. One day, I had a dream about Dad.”

“A dream? What was it about?”

“Nothing particularly interesting,” I said with a shrug. “We were having dinner together. It was like one of those rare occasions he was home before dark. I don’t know why exactly but it made me rethink my life. I had thought a few bruises was worth having Todd provide for me. However, I knew my dad would’ve hated to see me with a degenerate like Todd. The next day, I packed my bags and sneaked out… all because of that dream.”

A half-smile appeared on Max’s lips. “Electrons firing in your brain.”

“Electrons firing in your brain,” I said, my lips mirroring his smile. “I left California and headed eastward. I ended up finding a decent enough roommate in a small town thirty something miles from here. For work, I did odd jobs, such as babysitting or doing someone else’s laundry. We’re both poor as squirrels but we pay the rent on time. I suppose that’s something.”

Max finished up his breakfast.

“Sounds like you’ve turned your life around.”

I still had to work on my toast. “That’s high praise from an expert, Mr. Boy Scout.”

“Trust me, I’m still a biker at heart,” he chuckled. “When the weather clears up, I’m doing going out for a joyride. Besides, Maria preferred to biker to the boy scout when we in bed.”

I finished eating but there was a lot on my mind. “I’m just filled with so

many regrets.”

“About Todd?”

“No, about my dad,” I exhaled. “I wish I had spent more time with him. I didn’t know so much about him. Same with mom. It’s like the people who brought you into this world were strangers.”

“I know what you mean,” he said, nodding in agreement. “I was orphaned at an early age. The memories of my mother have faded over time. I have a

few photographs of her but I never really knew her. She’s just this beautiful woman in a faded photo. For my father, it’s even worse.”

“You knew him a little better, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and I learned about him through the other Steel Eagles,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “But I never had a chance to know the real him. I just knew my father as the Steel Eagles’ gunrunner. I don’t know whether or not I hate the man for what path he guided me towards… but I wished I knew him

better.”

“That’s sad.”

“More to the point, I wish I knew Maria better,” Max said, rubbing his eyes. “The years with her were the happiest of my life. She gave me so much of herself. I even took her last name. Yet, there were so many questions I wanted to ask. There was so much more I could’ve learned. Why did she never button up the bottom button of that one dress? Why did she always put her left foot forward first when walking into a new room? Did she like Thai food?

Those answers are lost to time.”

“I know the feeling,” I said. “I hated myself for not getting to know my dad better. I suppose we could get to know each other better.”

“Good idea,” he said in agreement. “Do you have any relatives?”

“Not that I know of, my parents eloped when they were young,” I answered. “My grandparents never approved of their marriage. My mom’s family had money but they cut off her

inheritance after she married dad. I have some relatives but my parents were never in close contact with them.”

“They ran off together?” Max said, somewhat amused. “Just like those romance movies from Hollywood.”

“I’ve always been a romantic at heart,” I giggled. “It’s genetic... but I wish it had been romantic for my parents. After mom died, dad buried himself in his work. I guess it helped him deal with her death.”

Max looked away into the distance. “I can understand that. What else can you tell me about yourself?”

“Not much to add,” I shrugged. “Like I said before, I do some odd jobs for a living. Some days, I’m walking dogs. Other times, I’m watering plants. It doesn’t pay much but it’s steady work.”

“Are you looking for something more permanent?” Max asked. “I have some connections through my work if you’re interested.”

“My roommate works as a waitress at a bar. I wanted to work there as well. However, you need to know how to make cocktails. My off the shelf mojito doesn’t cut it.”

“Maybe I can teach you,” he said. The offer seemed genuine. “Steel Eagles are taught how to pour cocktails by the time they are ten years old. I even learned to make old fashions when I was eight years old.”

“I’ll take up on it when we have some free time.”

The man scratched his chin “I suppose we should keep some bottles on standby. We could use it to keep ourselves warm.”

“Actually, alcohol doesn’t heat up the body. It just keeps the blood cells from-“

“I was kidding!”

“Sure you were,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Speaking of the Steel Eagles, how did they get their name?”

“We used to have a vat of molten steel at the club,” Max answered without skipping a beat. “One day, an eagle flew through the window and fell into it. We fished it out and made it into our symbol.”

I looked at him slack-jawed. “Seriously?”

“No, of course not,” he chuckled, he gestured towards the living room. “It goes back to World War II. Follow me.”

I got up and tailed him. “Your motorcycle club existed back then?”

The biker shook his head. “No, we were formed later in the seventies. However, one of our founders fought in World War II on the Western Front. He was in the air force as part of the 101 Division. They were more popularly known as the-”

“Screaming Eagles,” I said to Max’s

surprise, following him into a spare bedroom. “My dad was a World War II buff.”

“When he formed a motorcycle club,” he continued, taking out a box out of a drawer. The biker opened it and revealed a treasure-trove of mementos. It contained photos, badges, a small handgun, and some other trinkets. Max pulled out a photo of a man in military uniform in front of a World War II bomber plane. “He decided to pay homage to his past as a paratrooper. The ‘Steel’ part of the name comes from the motorcycles we ride.”

“Explains the name,” I replied, eyeing over the contents of the box. “What’s with the gun?”

“It’s an M1911A1,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s the greatest handgun ever made if you ask me. It’s reliable, accurate, and has plenty of stopping power. That’s pretty impressive when you consider that it was designed over a hundred years go. Go on hold it.”

I nervously held onto with both hands as if it were a live bomb. “It feels light.”

“It’s unloaded,” he replied, sensing my apprehension and taking it from me. Max aimed it and hit the thumb safety. “And it’s about a half pound lighter than the average M1911A1 while having an even stronger frame. It was custom built to begin with but it’s had a number of modifications over the years. My dad changed the grip and sight system for better aiming. I installed a hair trigger so it doesn’t take as much effort to fire it. ”

“Sounds fancy,” I said, impressed at both the weapon and Max’s expertise in firearms. “But don’t you need to pack

more heat than a small pistol?”

“No, it was the perfect weapon for my work,” Max answered. “When you’re out riding in a city full of close quarters, a handgun can be a lot more useful than a heavier firearm. A shotgun or rifle is more difficult to ready and fire. Automatic weapons like a submission gun might have a higher rate of fire but they are inaccurate and more likely to jam. A handgun is a lot easier to raise and fire if you’re in a tight spot. Besides, it’s a lot easier to conceal.”

I didn’t need to guess that an outlaw

biker valued concealed firearms. “Sounds like it has some history behind it.”

“It used to belong to my father. Before that, it belonged to his father. It was one of the few things he left for me but the Steel Eagles kept it from me after his death. They didn’t think I was ready.”

“Yeah, giving a kid a gun seems like a bad idea-”

Max shook his head. “Actually, I had

already been trained by them to use firearms. I just couldn’t use my dad’s gun because it held a lot of history. The gun was meant for my dad’s successor. It was more ceremonial than anything else.”

“What made them give it back? Did you turn eighteen?”

He hesitated before answering. “I killed my first man.”

I crinkled my nose in regret at asking such a personal question. “I see…”

“My days of fighting are over but I still keep it,” he said wistfully, putting the gun back into the box. “I don’t even plan on firing it again, even for home defense. No one bothers to come out here in the wilderness.”

“Why not get rid of it?” I asked. “I mean, it has some sentimental value but that comes with some painful memories.”

“It just didn’t feel right to bury the past,” he sighed, massaging his temples.

“I thought one day I’d give it to Michael when he grew up… just as reminder of how blessed he was not to be born into violence. How he’ll never have to use it…”

A pang of sadness hit me. Max’s son should’ve been alive and running. Maria should be sitting next him instead of me. Even if it meant I could never be Max’s lover, I wished him to be happy with Maria and Michael. “There’s a lot of stuff you can pass on, Max.”

He tilted his head. “Like what?”

“You’re coffee skills for one thing,” I giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a cup of coffee taste that great in my life. Seriously, where did you learn to use a French Press? I usually use a strainer or my roommate’s Keurig if I’m feeling lazy.”

He leaned back with obvious pride in his eyes. “That’s the just the cold making you appreciate a warm cup of coffee.”

“Don’t be modest!” I teased. “Did they teach you how to brew coffee back

in your days with the Steel Eagles?”

“We bikers do have standards when it comes to good coffee,” Max chuckled. “But it’s Maria who taught me how to make coffee with a French Press. Would you believe that I lived off instant coffee before this?”

Folding my arms, I lied back against the bed. “I figured a European would show us Americans the value of good coffee instead of hot mud.”

“Maria was an expert,” he

explained. “Her family back in Germany owns a coffee supplier. They were a small outfit but they knew their beans. The trick was the freshness of the beans and the water that went into them.”

“Have you ever talked to them?” I asked. “I mean Maria’s family.”

“Yes… and no,” he answered, his shoulders slumping. “We never told them about how Maria was blackmailed by the Black Cobras. However, we did tell them about our marriage. They weren’t happy with her getting hitched with an uneducated American.”

“Typical European in-laws,” I laughed. “You could be a Harvard graduate and they’ll still hold something against you.”

“But we eventually won them over,” he continued with a bittersweet smile. “Normally, I wouldn’t care much about what my they thought about us but I wanted Michael to grow up knowing his family. I never knew my relatives when I was a child. I planned on inviting them over to the States and showing them what Maria and I had built up over the years…”

“They should be proud,” I said, placing a hand over his. “And that she taught an American heathen the value of a good coffee.”

Max placed a hand under my chin. “That’s not the only thing I learned from Maria.”

My heart stirred as I pressed my body against him. “Then teach me.”

It was cold as a tundra outside but I didn’t care. I had a hot mug of coffee to keep me warm.

And I had a hotter guy to keep me company.

I awoke again in an empty bed. It didn’t look like I had slept very long after making love to Max. After dressing, I got up and wandered through the house.

I looked outside and expected it to snow even harder. To my shock, the blizzard had completely stopped. In fact, the sun shone and the landscape looked positively serene. Nonetheless, it was still too dangerous to venture out alone.

Suddenly, I heard a strange noise emanating from somewhere. It sounded like the static you get when tuning into a television channel with poor reception. I followed the noise to the kitchen.

I saw Max fidgeting with that police radio. He didn’t notice me until I spoke. “What’s going on, Max?”

“I was fooling around with this,” he answered, fidgeting with the police radio. “When I heard someone speak out loud. The voice came from a police frequency used by cops around this area.

It sounded like he was in serious trouble.”

I raised an eyebrow as Max tinkered with the knobs on the radio. “Are you sure that it was-“

My statement was cut off by a desperate voice. “T-This is Officer Brown… my car flipped over… requesting help…”

“Oh my God!” I gasped. I knew that feeling of isolation and terror. “It sounds like he’s in some serious trouble.”

Max turned a knob to add clarity to the voice. “Wait, there’s looks like there’s more.”

I heard the voice again. This time it was much clear. “H-help! I’m… family of two… woman… child-“

Static drowned out the voice. I cursed under my breath. “We’re losing him.”

Then, we heard a small snippet. “Blanche Avenue and-“

It had cut off again. Max growled at the police radio. “Damn, I lost it again. Those cop cars cost a fortune but don’t have the tires for driving on an icy road.”

“Oh no,” I said, rubbing my temple. “That man is in serious trouble… and he has a family with them. The weather’s cleared up a bit but they’re still out in the cold.”

Max nodded in solemn agreement. “And he said their car was flipped over… with a child inside. He might have tried to get a family to safety and ended up in trouble himself.”

I didn’t have to be a psychic to know he was getting flashbacks to the death of his family. “Max, do you know the place where? I think it was Blanche Street or Route-”

“Blanche Avenue is a deathtrap,” Max grunted in frustration. “It’s a road that goes alongside a mountain pass. The road is full of potholes that road

workers never fill up. That’s before you add in one of the worst snowstorms in history. The police are an hour’s drive away. We’re much closer and Blanche Avenue isn’t very long. We could take a risk and travel there ourselves.”

“They need help,” I pleaded. “I’m not sure the police can get to them in time.”

“Agreed,” he replied, getting up and heading to his bedroom to get dressed. “The three of them might be running out of time. You stay here and I’ll go-”

“Hold on a minute,” I said, stopping him from leaving so soon. “I’m coming too.”

He glared at me. “Out of the question.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked rhetorically. “Wait here? Sit on my ass and pray? If something goes wrong, I want to be there to back you up, Max.”

“Emily, this is not up for discussion-“

“Hell, it isn’t,” I shot back. “Max, you need me. There could be a scared woman and child over there. They’ll be scared and reluctant to trust some guy who claims to have overheard them over the radio. They’ll need someone to calm them. I can be that person. I know what’s it like to be stuck out in the cold. You saved but now it’s time that I paid you back.”

“Fine, but you stay in the car at all times and do whatever I ask of you,” he grumbled, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “Got it?”

I gave small smile. “Got it.”

The both of us bundled up in our thickest clothing. I brought some water and a trauma kit in case there was any serious injuries. Max’s jeep wasn’t made for five passengers. However, it drove well in rugged terrain.

While my lover drove with grim determination, I prayed for their safety. We slowly traversed across Blanche Avenue which had lived up to its reputation. The jeep’s suspension got a

workout on the snowy, rocky road. At times, I was afraid he would serve off the mountainous path. Nonetheless, Max knew this road by heart.

Suddenly, I noticed a figure out in the distance. “I think I see someone… is that the policeman?”

Indeed, he saw a uniformed officer traveling along. He was covered in a layer of frost but I could see the dark blue of his uniform. The man was out of shape for a policeman and looked like he would collapse at any second. When he saw our jeep, the man stopped in his

tracks and frantically waved at us.

“Son of bitch,” Max cursed slowly pulling up to the side. “Traveling alone on foot in the middle of this road is a quick way to get yourself injured or killed. Let’s stop and see if he’s the officer.”

Max lowered the side window as the man desperately called to us for help. “There’s been an accident! I need-”

“Yes, we heard,” Max interrupted. “Your cop car flipped over with two

passengers.”

His eyes widened in shock. “You knew?”

“I’ll explain later,” Max sighed. “Just get in and tell us where they are.”

“There was a woman and a child,” I said as the man entered the backseat. “Where are they? Why aren’t you with them?”

“I-I was the only one able to get out,” the policeman stuttered. There was a small cut on the side of his forehead. However, we could hold off on it until we got back home. “The passenger doors wouldn’t open. I didn’t want to leave them but I couldn’t get them out without help. I’ll show you where they are.”

The policeman led us to the scene of the crash. He introduced himself as Officer Benjamin Brown. He told us that he had been dispatched to pick up a single mother and her son from a nearby town. Their home had been hit particularly hard by the snowstorm.

They requested emergency evacuation once it got too dangerous. Officer Brown went in to get them to safety. However, the icy road had caused him to roll over into a ditch. He tried to radio for help and get the passengers out but nothing worked.

I gave the Officer an ice pack for the bump on his head. However, he didn’t use it after trudging around in the cold. There would be time later to give him better medical treatment. For now, we had to save that family.

I wondered what was going through

Max’s head. It must have felt like déjà vu with a mother and her son trapped in a car. I feared he would let the pain of the past cloud his judgment.

Nonetheless, there was a steely focus in his eyes. This time he would be different. This family would not die if he had any say in it.

I began to prepare in case the two of them were seriously injured. I had a kit full of bandages and some over the counter drugs for pain. We didn’t have the equipment or medical skills to help them if they had a serious injury.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come down to that.

I had also brought some extra coats and blankets with me. I didn’t think the coats would fit a small child but it would have to do for now. I planned to prepare some hot soup for everyone once we got back home.

With Officer Brown guiding the way, we came across the broken cop car. Its emergency flashers lit the scene with red and blue lights. He pointed to it with a shaky hand. “T-There it is.”

The car had nearly flipped upside down. The windshield hadn’t shattered completely but it had a nasty crack across it. I saw dark liquid pooling to its side. I hoped that it was oil or radiator fluid instead of blood.

“They spend a fortune in tax payer’s money on these things,” Max grumbled, taking off his seatbelt. “But they can’t afford good tires. At least the airbags went off.”

Officer Brown got up to follow him. “I’ll show you-“

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re hurt and we can’t risk you getting worse. Stay here and we’ll take care of the rest.”

He reluctantly sat back as Max and I exited the jeep. We walked hand in hand across the icy road. The driver’s side door was open which had allowed Officer Brown to escape.

The car had to be well heated because the snow around the opened door was starting to melt. At least we

knew the two of them weren’t too exposed to the elements. Nevertheless, I had some heated blankets on standby. Hypothermia is no laughing matter.

“We’ll have to open up a door,” Max said, walking up to the back passenger door. There looked to be some movement inside but it was difficult to tell from this angle. “There’s usually a steel mesh separating the backseat from the front. We can’t have them come through the middle. Setting the car to emergency usually unlocks the doors in civilian cars. I hope it’s the same for cop cars.”

Summoning all of his strength, Max pulled at the door. Indeed, it was unlocked but it wasn’t opening without a fight. Using both hands, he finally pulled it open.

Suddenly, a soft voice came out from “Stay back!”

A small boy sat on what was sitting on what was essentially the roof of the car’s interior. He had dark brown hair and soft grey eyes that reminded me of Max. He held a broken shard of glass in his hand as a weapon. He didn’t look

injured but I knew he was afraid.

I immediately understood why he threatened us. To his side was a middleaged woman who had to be his mother. She was unconscious and needed to be brought down from the seat.

The boy didn’t look like he was older than ten years. “I said stay back!”

Max groaned in irritation. “Calm down, kid before you hurt yourself! I don’t have time for this-“

“Relax, we’re here to help,” I said, taking charge. I gently extended my hand and touched his shoulder. “My name’s Emily and we’re here you to get you to safety. What’s your name?”

He didn’t resist. “It’s Edward. Most people call me Ed.”

I pointed to his mother. “How’s your mom, Ed? Is she okay?”

Thankfully, the boy dropped the shard of glass. “She drifts in and out.”

“Ed, we need to get the both of you out of here,” I said, grabbing onto his hand. “First, we’ll get you out and then we can get your mom the help she needs.”

He nodded. “Okay… just help my mom!”

Max gave me a small smile. “Get him to the jeep and I’ll take care of her.”

I guided Ed back to the safety of the jeep while Max tried to get his mother out. Watching from afar, he struggled to get her seatbelt off without hurting her. After a few minutes, he got her out and carried her with both arms to the jeep.

It was a cramped fit with five people. I offered to stay behind and get picked up later. However, Max was adamant we all leave together. With the mother still half-unconscious, we secured her in the backseat. Ed sat in my lap while Officer Brown rode shotgun.

I made small talk with Edward to keep him calm. I learned that his mother’s name was Claudia. Ironically enough, she was a doctor who specialized in head injuries.

She was a woman in her late thirties with greying hair. Nonetheless, there was a big bruise on her forehead. Thankfully, it hadn’t bled very much.

I didn’t know how long the three of them would be staying with us. We had enough food to share with the others. Claudia could use some of my womanly hygienic items. With the weather clearing up, it wouldn’t be a death wish to venture out for more food and other supplies.

Eventually, we reached Max’s house. We carefully placed Claudia on the bed in the guestroom before patching her up. Max and Officer Brown went to talk about how to contact the police. I got busy making some hot soup for everyone.

Where nowhere to go, Ed assisted me in preparing the soup. “Is mom going to be okay?”

“I’m not a doctor like your mother,” I said, sucking in my lower hip. “She hit her head but it looks like we came just in time. Don’t you worry, Max and I will

give her the best of care.”

That seemed to put him as ease. Ed helped me setup the table as I made four bowls of soup. Claudia had awoken but was in no condition to get up and eat. We decided to let her rest for now since she was just too tired to get out of bed.

Over dinner, Officer Brown said he contacted the police through Max’s landline.

They would arrive in a few days to pick us up. Officer Brown sighed at the

delay. “We were short staffed as it is. They barely managed to let me pick these two up. They just don’t have the manpower to spare. I’m sorry for imposing on you-”

“Don’t worry about, Officer,” Max chuckled. “Besides, I used to be a hell raiser when I was younger. Think of this as making up for it.”

Officer Brown smiled. “Thanks, I’ll try to get you a tax write-off for your help. And please call me Ben.”

Although I missed being alone with Max, the house seemed livelier with more people in it. Max happily shared war stories with Ben. The policeman seemed enraptured by Max’s exploits as an outlaw biker. The former criminal hit it off easily with the lawman.

Later into the night, Claudia awoke again. This time, she had regained full consciousness. We told her what had happened and that Ed was safe. I heated up a bowl for her.

Our three new guests were exhausted and eager to get to bed. The house was

big enough for all of us. Ed would sleep beside Claudia. Ben got his own bed in a spare guestroom. Max and I would share a bed. This was an arrangement neither of us minded.

Our guests went to sleep as Max and I took turns bathing. Rescuing families was dirty work. We were also tired but awake enough for some pillow talk.

Now, I never felt so in love with Max.

I jumped into bed with my lover and

snuggled next to him. “What we did today was fucking amazing! We kicked ass!”

“Tell, me about it,” he said, looking as though he had undergone a cathartic experience. I knew this experience had helped him exorcise some demons. “It feels like I’m in a dream…”

“I never thought I’d ever save someone’s life,” I murmured. “Especially a cop and a kid.”

Max placed an arm around my back.

“And I’m making friends with a cop. The boys back at the Steel Eagles would roast me alive for this.”

“You’re a hero, Max. You saved their lives.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

“Don’t be modest. You pulled it off like you save people for a living.”

“No, you’ve changed me, Emily,” he said in a soft voice. As a soft a voice he could muster. “After I lost Maria and Michael, I shut myself off from other people. I just didn’t want to get hurt again… and to let someone down again. After I met you, I opened up again…”

I leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you.”

We would’ve made love that night but we were damn tired from being someone’s saviors.

Like clockwork, I woke up in an empty bed. Max must have woken up early to check up on everyone else. I didn’t know how he kept managing to wake up before me.

As usual, I headed to the kitchen and found Max and Ed making pancakes. “Smells good, boys. Is it strawberries?”

“Blueberries,” Max corrected, flipping a large pancake. “Maria used to make pancakes with blueberries. I started to develop a taste for them myself.”

I went to check on their progress. Ed judiciously followed Max’s cooking instructions. He practically worshipped the man who had saved him. That made two of us.

I softly ruffled Ed’s hair to his chagrin and asked. “How’s Claudia?”

“Ben is checking up on her,” Max answered. “She’s up and moving but we’re trying to get her to eat.”

I sat at the table. “That’s good to

hear.”

Preparing another batch, Max turned to Ed. “Do you want a handful of blueberries or a lot?”

Ed’s answer was obvious. “Lots!”

My lover laughed and poured two dozen blueberries into the pancake better. Then, he ruffled Ed’s hair. “You got it.”

Ed sat down next to me. “Max do you have a family?”

He stopped cooking momentarily. “Family?”

“I see photos of you and someone else on the wall,” the boy said, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Is she your wife?”

“She was,” Max answered, going back to flipping pancakes. “Maria died some time ago.”

Ed looked horrified. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Max!”

The man turned to flash a smile at me. “Relax, I’ve gotten through the pain.”

“I lost my daddy,” Ed replied, staring off into the distance. “He died after someone shot him at a grocery store. He tried to stop a robber. And I almost lost mom...”

I reached out to comfort him. “Ed,

your mom is safe with us. Don’t you worry about it.”

Ed whispered back. “Daddy was supposed to get candy for me…”

“I lost my dad when I was a kid as well,” Max said, a look of softness on his face. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He even got shot, too. Don’t let the past weigh you down like an anchor. You have a long life ahead of you, Ed.”

Ed smiled. “I won’t, Max.”

“Max, any update about the weather?” I asked. “It looks to be clearing up.”

“It is,” he said, sighing in relief. “It looked like it couldn’t get any worse. Then, it got better in a flash. The snow isn’t even up to our knees.”

“So we’re in the clear?”

“We are,” he replied, placing

pancakes in plates. “The winters here tends to thaw out as quickly as it comes in. In a few days, it should be safe to drive without chaining up your tires.”

“So… I guess I can drive in a couple of days.”

The tension lingered in the air. Max and I had gotten so close to each other over the past few days. I was a guest who had become his lover. The cold may have kept me inside but my heart kept me from leaving.

Yet, the life outside these walls rushed back in. I had a life before I met the man of my dreams. However, I had fallen hard for Max.

Tapping the table in impatience, Ed groaned. “Come on guys, let’s eat!”

“Alright, alight,” Max laughed. “Tell Ben and your mother that breakfast is ready.”

Soon, the five of us indulged ourselves on pancakes. It felt like we were all part of an extended family. Ben

scarfed down three plates of pancakes. Claudia chastised her son for his lack of table manners.

Max looked happier than ever before. This was the type of morning he must have woken up to when Maria and Michael were still alive. It would be good for him to experience it again, even if it was for a little while.

The following few days were just as blissful. Stubborn as a mule, Claudia offered to help me with chores to earn her keep. She and I bonded over laundry and vacuuming. She hated not being able

to help people.

Ed helped Max with little odd jobs. He made sure not to let the boy do anything dangerous. However, the kid was a bundle of energy. Max let Ed help him out with maintaining the jeep and checking up on the generator.

Hell, he even let Ed ride around on his bike in the garage. I would drop by and see Max coaching him on the proper way to grip the handlebar. It was bittersweet to see him bond with a child who could’ve been his son.

Soon, Ben was strong enough to leave and get back to work. He made sure to arrange transportation and support for Claudia and Ed when the roads cleared. However, we had the two of them stay with us until then.

Eventually, it came time to part ways with Ed and Claudia as well. The police offered to escort them to a community center that had recently opened up. They had created it for people displaced by the blizzard.

The boy cried but Max told him to be

brave for his mother. He also promised to visit them once the weather got better. We waved them off as a police car drove them away.

“I’m going to miss them too,” I said with a half-smile. We walked back in and went to his bedroom. “At the same time, I enjoy being alone with you. It’s too bad I’ll have to leave as well one day...”

Max gazed upon me as if I were the most important thing in his life. We had only known each other a scant few days. Yet, each day felt like a lifetime onto itself. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

I blushed and everted my eyes. It didn’t help that my nipples were still hard in spite of the warmer weather. “I’ve had a life before I met you. I was some boring girl folding laundry and-”

“And I know that you’re stunningly lovely woman,” he replied, turning on the charm. He reached out to cup my cheek with his weather-beaten hand. “Who I can’t live without.”

I tossed my head and let my hair fall on his arm. “You know how to say the right words at the right time.”

His fingers brushed aside my hair as he looked at me. God, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world with the way he stared at me. We had so much pent up passion after the last few days.

A strange sensation of cold overwhelmed me. I shivered as goosebumps covered me from head to toe. I pressed my body against Max’s torso for comfort.

He comforted me with a kiss to my forehead. His hand went under the back

of my shirt and traced my spine. His finger traveled over every soft bump until the base of my spine.

I moved away to take off my shirt. Max wordlessly followed suit by undressing. By now, it was almost like a ritual.

It didn’t take long before Max cupped the swell of my ass. I rested my head against his muscular chest as he kneaded the soft flesh. I felt the slow, steady beat of his heart as my own thundered. He was so calm and composed in most circumstances.

However, I knew how to get his blood racing.

I ground my groin against his rock hard abs. His erection rubbed up against my belly. I hugged his body and brought him and his hard cock closer to me. Max lifted me up by the hips and impaled me on his cock with one swift thrust. “Ah!”

Max’s hands helped me ride his throbbing prick. He just jack hammered into my wet, tight body. I cried out in both passion and liberation.

“Make love to me, Max,” I chanted. “I want your tool in me! Fuck me! Please, do it!”

He pumped me with all of his power and desire. I bounced up and down like a rag doll. My tossed hair blocked my vision but I could make out the look of unquestionable desire on his face.

That made both of us.

Approaching my climax, I dug my heels into his back and whimpered into his shoulder. My cries were feverish as

if a sickness claimed me. Max stroked my back and continued to pump into me. Soon, he came with a loud groan.

With his cock still throbbing inside of me, we fell onto the bed in a cold sweat. I traced a circle on his chest as if peering into his heart. “That was the best one, Max.”

“I love you, Emily,” he said breathlessly, caressing my arm. “You can count the days we’ve known each other on one hand but it feels like we’ve known each other for years.”

I didn’t want to cry like a teenage girl but I couldn’t help but get a little misty eyed. “I don’t want to leave you, Max. Leaving you and this place is like leaving paradise.”

“You don’t have to Emily,” he consoled. “You’re welcome to stay with me.”

I sighed. “It’s a lot to ask of you, Max… and I’m scared.”

“You’re the bravest woman I’ve met

since Maria,” he said, kissing me. “What are you scared of? That I’ll hurt you like Todd.”

“It’s nothing to do with him,” I said. “You’re about as different from Todd a man can be. Most of the guys I’ve known just cared about sex. They saw me as some masturbatory tool. Yet, I couldn’t help but be drawn to them. But you’re different, Max. It’s just that this feeling is new to me.”

“I can give you space, Emily,” he said. “And believe me, I can be bad when I want to be.”

I playfully slapped him on the arm. “You’re a bad boy who can’t help but be a good man. No wonder women like you.”

“And no wonder I find you to be so attractive,” he said. “I always needed someone who knew how to actually cook.”

“You always had a silver tongue,” I said, kissing him hard on the lips. “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Or the week after. Or the year. I just

know you’ll always be a part of my life.”

He smiled. “Likewise.”

I snuggled closer to him. “I’m getting cold…”

“Then let’s eat and make a fire.”

With the roads clearing up, we could afford to be less stingy about food. Max had gone out the other day to get deer

venison from a local supplier. I didn’t know the first thing about cooking deer. However, Max was skilled enough to prepare a pair of medium rare venison steaks.

After popping open a bottle of wine, we ate and talked over the delicious meal. It was the romantic dinner I had always dreamed about since I was a little girl. Sure, we were eating food out of paper plates and doing it in our underwear. Nonetheless, I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself.

I was a part of a family.

Every now and then, Max would walk over to the fireplace and add wood. Each time, the flames grew higher. The love I held for him rose as well. The logs crackled as a fire bellowed over it.

The snow had stopped but it was still cold outside. Through a window, I saw that snow still lingered in large piles. At least the streets weren’t a death trap. Max and I had outlived the blizzard.

After we finished eating, I basked in the warmth of the fireplace. Max sat down next to me. He brought a thick woolen blanket as well. He wrapped both of us in it and held me in his arms.

For almost half an hour, we sat together in silence. We just enjoyed each other’s warmth and company. We had beaten the cold together. The only enemy left was the hesitation in our hearts.

Taking the initiative, I reach out to take off his shirt. My fingertips felt cool as icicles as I explored the contours of his toned chest. I teased his nipples with

my fingers by suckling them with my lips.

Max groaned as he undid his pants. I grasped his hardening cock and brought to my mouth. His groaning grew even deeper as I sucked his erection. It was his turn to sit back and relax.

My lover became my prisoner as he lied on his back. The blanket fell off us as I pleased him. It didn’t take long for him to get hard. Sitting astride his body, I grabbed his shoulders and mounted his wet erection. “I’m in love you, Max…”

My lover answered by making slow, passionate love to me. Our eyes locked onto each other as we did our familiar dance. Our bodies moved in unison as if moving the rhythm of a favorite song.

Max leaned up to kiss my breasts. His hands ran up my sides and grabbed my shoulders. I bent down to kiss him. It was sloppy in light of our movements but enjoyable nonetheless.

I loved watching a stone-faced man like Max breakdown. The reaction of his climax was evident on his face. His

throaty grunts mingled with my soft moans. I silenced his cries of passion by kissing him firmly. I gently bit down on his lip. Breaking off, I stared into Max’s beautiful eyes as tears welled up in mine.

The passion grew and grew in my chest. My eyes grew heavy as if claimed by sleep. Lips flapped senselessly as I felt my orgasm. My breasts heaved as I cried out in bliss.

I collapsed on top of him with a sheen of sweat covering both of our tangled bodies. Max covered us with the

nearby blanket. We fell asleep as the fireplace crackled.

When I awoke, I was in for a shock. For one thing, I had woken up before Max. That was noteworthy in and of itself. However, there was something else.

I shook my lover awake. “Hey, wake up, Max!”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What it is?”

I pointed to a window. “Look outside the window.”

There was still snow but we saw green. Tiny leaves sprouted from trees. Patches of grass could be seen between piles of snow. Flowers bloomed in the distance.

“It looks like spring,” he whispered, staring in near disbelief. “The start of new life.”

“The start of a new beginning,” I

mused. “Something we can build together.”

He squeezed my hand as we watched the winter sunrise in the distance. “Thanks for saving me, Emily.”

I squeezed back. “No problem, Max.”

Not Enough For You? Check Out These Hot Romance Stories:

Chapter One: Dante

“It looks bad, Dante. We’ve had scandals in the past due to our history but this is a whole new level. No public relations company in the world is capable of spinning the addition a former convict onto our board of directors into a positive. The fact that he just finished serving a ten year prison sentence for armed robbery isn’t going to help matters. The public won’t think we’ve changed one bit. Our initial public offering is a few months away and we’ve-”

“I don’t need the blow by blow, Lucia,” the taciturn biker sighed, turning to his sister. Dante Alastair had grown

up alongside his strong-willed sibling. He had fought with her in the backseat of car during their childhood. He had fended off substandard suitors for her when she became a woman. When their new high-rise corporate offices were under construction, she had taken the initiative to turn the game room in their motorcycle club into a respectable enough conference room for business dealings. They were becoming a legitimate motorcycle design and manufacturing business on the back of her shoulders. Dante knew when she was the only one who could pull him and the club out of this fire. “Just tell me how bad the backlash is going to be. I already feel like I’m a damn politician

trying to avoid scandals.”

“You will be once we go public with the company,” Lucia said sternly, glancing at the middle-aged man to their side. The recently released ex-convict was the subject of their conversation. However, he had decided to stay silent and allowed his niece and nephew to do the talking. And the arguing. “With Uncle Cassius released from prison, this isn’t going away. We made amends with the law. We’ve paid back the families we’ve affected. We’ve opened our books up to independent accounting firms and even the feds. However, people think we’re still a gang of

dangerous bikers who break the law. They’re even bringing up the fact you went to juvie as a teenager. There’s no sweeping bad history under a carpet in this day and age. Just the other day, the hashtag for Uncle’s release skyrocketed on Twitter. It’s still trending.”

“No other motorcycle brand has our history,” Dante argued, proud of the club’s storied past. Nevertheless, his short tenure as the club’s president had him stir it away from its controversial origins. “Our manufacturing partners can’t even keep up with orders. It’s what attracts people to us. Hell, HarleyDavidson said that we’re a threat to

them. We’re the new wave. We must be doing something right.”

“It’s also attracting the same bad press that makes our PR department deal with a new fire every day,” Lucia replied, lacing her fingers under her chin. As the sleeves of her business clothing fell, it revealed her tattooed wrists. The businesswoman was a biker at heart. “Dante, we’re at a crossroads. We could be the next Harley-Davidson. Or we could up like some poisoned brand that nobody wants to be associated with. We’re either a respectable manufacturer of motorcycles or we’re an outlaw motorcycle club

that’s had a few too many run-ins with the law. We can’t be both.”

Dante sighed at her sound logic. “So what do you propose we do? Last week, you said the consultants thought we were heading for a historical initial public offering for a motorcycle design company. Now, you’re not even sure we’ll be able to avoid getting delisted before the year is over.”

She glanced at her uncle who sat quietly at the table with an alcoholic beverage in his hands. “That’s business, Dante. Things can change at the drop of

a hat. Is it worth having someone on the board who just left prison for armed robbery? He’s still on probation for crying out loud! Maybe we should reconsider-”

“No, he stays,” Dante interrupted, startling his sister. Lucia had noted he reminded her more and more of their father and former club president. It was bittersweet to for him to take on the responsibilities and persona of their late father. “Uncle lost a decade of his life to take the heat off dad. I’m not going to let some overzealous media mob try to take away his freedom. We wouldn’t have grown up with dad if it wasn’t for his

sacrifice. Besides, this motorcycle club belongs to him as much as it does us.”

Suddenly, Uncle Cassius voiced his thoughts. “Well, it’s nice that you kids have a heart. I don’t plan on being the face of this new manufacturing company of yours. I much prefer the backseat.”

“He can stay on the board but we need him out of here and out of the media’s cross-hairs,” Lucia conceded with a sigh. “They’ve talked about how we used to do a trial of combat who gets promoted. Some of our manufacturing partners are concerned with the

direction we’re taking our company. If they pull out now, it could tank our IPO.”

He knew she was right even if his ego wouldn’t admit it. “Where do you want him? Out of California?”

“I’m talking about getting him out of this damn hemisphere,” Lucia stated. “Listen, the longer he stays here, the longer we have to talk to the media about our past.”

“Well, as much as I’d like to sit back and drink ice tea in the Bahamas,” Uncle

Cassius chided. “The Black Hound Recreation and Motorcycle has had a reputation ever since your grandfather founded it after he came back from the Vietnam War.”

Lucia wanted to get back to business. “We know how-”

“This is your father’s legacy we’re talking about, young lady,” the uncle scolded. “Vergil and I kept our reputation as the most feared bikers in the Southwest. We kept this community safe from the other biker gangs. Your father wouldn’t like to see the Black

Hound name tarnished so you could make easy money slapping our insignia on some cheap imported motorcycles from Asia. He’ll he would be rolling in his grave if he found out the club was now incorporated.”

“As club president, I’m taking the Black Hound club seriously,” Dante replied. He always felt uncomfortable being compared to his father. Frank, one his father’s closest friends, had temporarily served as club president until Dante came of age. Nonetheless, he found the responsibility overwhelming at times. “I’m going to protect our reputation and history. People from all

across the world are going to know our name. But it’s going to be as a legitimate business. We’ll keep this community safe. However, we’ll do it through the jobs and money we bring in rather than through armed robbery and violence.”

“It’s not just that,” Lucia added, flipping through some papers in her binder. “There’s this deal in the works where we can license our name to bars and grills. There’s a lot of money to be made in the licensing business.”

Cassius grimaced as if she had described turning the club into a brothel.

Suddenly, the expression on his face changed. “Did I ever tell you kids how your father met your mother?”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “I don’t think now is the time for an anecdote.”

Dante, however, was more curious. “What are you getting at Uncle Cass?”

“You see my brother, Vergil, was the younger one,” he began. “So, he usually got left home with our mother when your grandfather and I worked at the club or garage. However, the little devil made

up for lost opportunities getting into lots of trouble at school. Soon, the hellraiser started to have a reputation among the locals and the law started to take notice. It wasn’t a good thing to have that kind of… prestige when you start getting threatened with prison time instead of detention. The fox sleeps easier when they know the hound isn’t on the prowl.”

Now, Lucia was intrigued. “Go on.”

“Your father needed way to look like a law abiding citizen,” Cassius continued. “So he went to the nicest girl in town from a well-respected family.

And knowing his tastes, she also happened to be the prettiest girl in town. He had found someone the entire town liked and he asked her for a date with hat in hand. Being around such a nice, kind-hearted girl transformed his reputation almost overnight. However, it was only just for the cameras. He was a boy scout by the day… and a biker by night.”

Dante smiled at the familiar story. “I guess he didn’t count on falling in love with mom.”

Uncle Cassius shook his head. “The

point is that we have a way of dealing with the media by creating a smokescreen. If we get those media dogs chasing after another bone, you can go ahead with your plan of making the company public without any controversy. What better distraction than a fairy tale romance?”

Lucia followed along. “So if we can get someone who is a law-abiding citizen and unattached… we can move the focus from Uncle Cassius’s release to your impromptu and very public romance.”

Dante’s eyes shot opened wide in disbelief. “Wait, what?”

“We need a clean-living woman who will agree to your sham marriage,” his Uncle said, far too amused at the scenario. “I guess if she’s a cutie, it wouldn’t exactly hurt.”

“What you’re saying is that I get hitched with some goody-two-shoes so our PR gets a booster shot?” Dante asked incredulously. “How we going to find someone who will agree to this charade?”

“We have the money to pay her off,” Lucia answered, a teasing smile on her face. “Besides, women would want to be with a handsome guy like you for free.”

“Even if I agree to this… why me? Why not Lucia?”

“Because you’re not only a dashing knight in leather armor but also the head of the company,” his sister teased. “I’m just the company’s CFO. It would make a better headline if the Black Hound’s playboy CEO and perpetual bachelor

decided to finally settle down with a nice, kind-hearted girl. It’ll be a fresh start for the company and its young CEO’s personal life. Our marketing department will love that line! We might actually have something here…”

Dante sighed in defeat. “If this saves the IPO…”

“It will, Dante,” his sister answered with a devious smile. She was enjoying this more than she had any right to. “I’ll handle all the details. You just have to play your part as the bad boy biker who will turn over a new leaf.”

“Well then, I’m going to need a smoke,” Cassius laughed. “I might become somebody’s granduncle.”

This was too much for the club president. He rummaged into his jacket for the keys to his motorcycle. “And I’m going to need to take a ride to clear my head.”

Chapter Two: Trisha “Welcome to Foxtail Farms! This is Trisha Kaplan, how can I help you?”

Trisha knew name was a bit of a lie. It actually should have been singular as in one farm. However, Foxtail Farms made it sound like a thriving business. She had to put on a brave face all the time. The fact that she was talking to someone over the phone rather than face to face didn’t change matters.

“Dear sir or madam,” the pre-

recorded voice began. Trisha already knew this was trouble from the metallic hiss of the electronic voice. “You’re eligible for a credit card offer with no interest for-”

She clicked end button on the phone. The young woman was surprised to get such an offer considering her credit rating. Then again, someone who had to keep herself afloat through credit cards was the perfect target for these telemarketers. It was like peddling a lifetime supply for vodka to a recovering alcoholic.

The farm girl was half a mind to disconnect the phone to stop these devils from peddling their goods. It was bad enough she had to cut off her cell phone plan because the cost was too much. However, a respectable business needed some means of communication with its customers.

That was the big problem. There were less and less customers to talk to. It was tough being the owner of a private farm. Most of her peers had years to build up close relationships with retailers and hone their craft. Trisha was like a high school athlete competing at the big leagues. She hated to admit but

she was hopelessly outgunned and outmatched.

That’s not even considering the big food companies who dominated the region. While they didn’t have the love and care of local farmers, they certainly had prices to attract customers. There was no way for a small private farm to compete with them.

For that matter, there was no way she would be able to run the farm. The bills were started to rack up. Trisha’s line of credit was stretched to its limit. The end was in sight.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It had to be Enrique. The man had been her father’s close friend and business partner. Now, he was her business partner. The woman rushed to unlock the door.

“Sorry, I was with a phone call,” she said to a man who was practically her uncle. He ran a small chain of grocery chain in a nearby city. He had been a longtime patron of Foxtail Farms. “Come on in, Enrique. I can make us some tea. I have your favorite peachmango herbal tea-”

The middle-aged man stayed at the doorstep. “I won’t be staying long, Trisha. I just wanted to update you on our next order.”

The woman’s heart sank at the news. “An Update?”

“I’ll only be able to buy half a shipment of strawberries,” he said. “As for the kale. I’m afraid we just can’t afford it.”

“Half a shipment?” Trisha gasped. “That barely covers the cost of making it! It’s already hard growing when we have to conserve water for the drought.”

“I’m giving you the best deal I can,” Enrique sighed. “My chain is co-owned by the two other people. They would rather save few pennies than pay a little extra for your quality. I’m trying to give you as much business as I can.”

Trisha’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat. “Well, I guess that’s just the nature of this business.”

“I know it’s been tough, Trisha,” the man said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t imagine how difficult it has been for you to take charge of the family business, especially so soon after their deaths.”

“It’s in the past, Enrique,” the woman replied, feeling a tinge in her heart. “I’ve gotten over it. Now, I’m trying to get this farm afloat before I drown with it.”

“No young woman desires to spend her days going from leak to leak,” the

man replied. “Trisha, you don’t have to do this. There are other to deal with your problems. You could always sell the farm-”

“Out of the question,” Trisha interrupted. “Foxtail Farms in my birthright. It’s been in my family for generations. Mom and Dad worked so hard to keep this place running.”

“I know you’ve been operating at a loss for months,” Enrique pleaded. “Think of your workers. Think of yourself. It’ll be a lot easier to move on if you cut your losses now rather than

later.”

“I don’t want to be the one who lost the farm…”

“I know it’ll be hard but you have to do this. I’ve been in this business long enough to know when a business is on its last legs. This farm will go belly up in a few months. You don’t want to get caught under it and end up paying debts for the rest of your life.”

“Not happening,” she said adamantly. “Besides, who would buy a

failing business? I can barely afford to pay my workers. I’m up to my ears in debt…”

“Listen, the business may not be worth much but the land is a different story,” he said. Her heart sank at his words. Trisha knew he was right but she hated the mere idea of it. “Look Trisha, I’m saying this as one of your father’s oldest friends. You need to do what’s best for you. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your reason. Sell the land and you’ll be able to live comfortably until you find some other type of work.”

“Enrique, I’ve been a farm girl my entire life,” she said, trying to fight back tears. “I’ve grown up milking cows and putting turnips. This is my life. I can’t just sell what’s left my parents.”

The man sighed. “It’s just something to think about, Beatrix. Just make sure to take care of yourself”

Trisha gave a soft nod. “So long.”

After watching Enrique depart, the young woman decided to take a stroll through her field. The farm wasn’t big

compared to her rivals but she was proud of it. Watching the cycle of planting crops and watching them grow never got old.

She watched her workers toil away I the fields. She couldn’t afford to hire many of them but she appreciated the work of the ones who worked for her. Trisha realized that it was not just her future at stake. Her workers had families to feed as well. Perhaps selling the farm would be the best choice in ensuring she and her workers had the best future they could possibly have.

That’s when she saw a stranger talking with Harold, one of her workers. The looked dangerous between his leather jacket and his fingerless gloves. The young woman had seen him from somewhere before.

There was an expensive looking motorcycle parked in the driveway. It looked way more powerful than her dad’s cold V92C. Its fuel tank had an emblem of some type of dog.

The man would be just as intimidating if not for his boyish smile. His eyes were bright, welcoming, and

intelligent. However, his body was as powerful and rugged looking as his motorcycle. A trail of intricate tattoos snaked its way across his collarbone and onto the side of his neck. There was a small scar running to across his temple. Trisha wondered if he got it from a motorcycle crash.

Or a violent fist fight.

That was when she realized who he was. That man was Dante Alastair, president of the Black Hound Motorcycle Club. She had seen his handsome face and his motorcycle club

on the news and in her dad’s old subscription to Motorcycle Monthly.

Now, the man was trying to start a motorcycle manufacturing company. She didn’t know why this man would care about her tiny farm. The motorcycle club president claimed that he wanted to legitimize his business and give back to the community. It was a line she had heard from every politician and businessman who wanted to make money at the expense of the poor, including her financially strapped family.

Nevertheless, she was curious to

why the bad boy biker was in her neighborhood.

Harold seemed pleased with the man. The young man was enthusiastic about the mini-tour he was conducting. “This is Ms. Kaplan. She owns the place. She’s the one you should be talking to if you’re placing that big of an order.”

Trisha’s ears perked up at the last word. “Hello, I am Beatrix Kaplan, owner of Foxtail Farms. And you are?”

“Pleased to meet you, Beatrix,” he replied, his eyes fixated on the woman. “My name is Dante Alastair. I was just discussing a business to business deal with Harold just now.”

Trisha fought and failed to keep from blushing. The biker was even more handsome and charming in person than he was in magazines. His face was proud and sculpted like that of a Renaissance statue. His windswept hair was of medium length and looked incapable of being combed properly. The man was gorgeous and he knew it. He had the tall, well-muscled build of a man and the boyish swagger of

troublemaking teenager.

“Likewise, Mr. Alastair.”

“Please, call me Dante,” he laughed, causing her to turn flush again. “Mr. Alastair was my late father’s name. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called that.”

“Dante said he wanted to place an order,” Harold chimed in. “Actually, he wanted to place a lot of orders. He wants everything from turnips to strawberries. He even wants some of the

wool we have left over from shearing!”

“I’ll take it from here, Harold,” Trisha said, dismissing the kid. She led Dante to her house as she probed him for answers. “I’ll take you inside to fill out your order.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “It’s a long drive here from the city. This place is beautiful. I should have made the trip earlier.”

“What brings you to Foxtail Farms, Dante?” Trisha asked, eyes narrowing in

suspicion. “From the looks of it, you’re placing a very big order from an admittedly small farm. In fact, I would say that this sounds like a recurring supply order.”

“Well, I enjoy… perusing smaller providers when selecting suppliers,” he answered, reaching the door to Trisha’s house. “The bigger farms can’t give the same attention to detail or natural quality as the smaller farms. I want to make sure we’re getting our money’s worth when supplying my business. That’s why I’ve come here.”

“Is that so?” Trisha answered, suspecting that something wasn’t right. “Do club presidents, or CEOs or whatever they call you do the grocery shopping?”

The man had to have an agenda. The biker was born into money and power. He never had to live paycheck to paycheck. He never had to worry if he had enough money to keep a roof over his head.

Trisha wondered why the man had come here. He couldn’t be sick and twisted enough to see her failing farm as

some sort of entertainment. He also couldn’t possibly interested in buying her land considering the money he had.

Nevertheless, the man looked impressed at her line of questioning. “I learned of this place from my mother. I would always pass it when I would go out riding in this area. I figured I should finally drop by.”

“Your mother?”

“Whenever she was around here, my mother used to buy from Foxtail Farms,”

he answered, looking somewhat nostalgic. “She always hated the city and preferred these parts. I remembered she would buy fresh fruits from here and bring it home for us. She would always get that dried grapefruit candy that was made fresh here. My sister Lucia and I would always fight over it. Do you still have some by any chance? I just got a craving.”

Trisha’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m afraid not. We don’t grow grapefruit here anymore. It’s just too water heavy.”

Dante smiled. “My mother always made small talk with the woman who helped run the place. I think it was Mary Kaplan. Is she still here? I always ride pass here but never got the opportunity to meet her.”

“That was my mother,” Trisha whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “She died earlier this year from cancer. Dad didn’t last too long after that. He just stopped taking care of himself.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the man offered. He seemed to internally curse himself for upsetting her. “I’ve lost my

mother recently as well, Beatrix”

“Please call me Trisha,” she replied, stopping the tears from flowing. This was now a time for business rather than reminiscing. “Beatrix is my real name but only my mother ever used to call me that. I always hated being called. It always made me feel old.”

“Okay, Trisha,” he said. “I should have come here sooner for a joyride. The fresh air is already making me feel better.”

Trisha gave him a teasing smile. “Happy to get away from the media frenzy surrounding your motorcycle club?”

Dante shifted uncomfortable in his riding boots. “You heard?”

“I may not be a city girl but I follow the news,” she replied. “I heard about the awful things they’re saying about your uncle. The man did his time. He should be able to live the rest of his time out in peace. It’s like as if the media wants another trial.”

“The media has to justify its wages,” Dante said, bemused at her words. “I won’t blame a dog for wanting to bark.”

“I apologize if I sounded rude earlier,” she said, opening the door to her home. “It’s just that when people come here to do business, I always expect them to give me offers for the land.”

“I can assure you,” Dante said with a playful smile. “I have no interest in your land. Let’s go inside and discuss my order.”

Life was hard for Beatrix Kaplan. Now, her burden felt a little lighter.