Every Hero Deserves a Blowjob [A Paranormal Romance]

Chapter 1

Every Hero Deserves a Blowjob

Chapter 1

Karma

The older I got, the quicker my suspicions became a reality. Friends. Family. Lovers. They were temporary concepts. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn't want to believe it at first. After two months in jail, though, I finally began to accept what seemed like life's most repetitive lesson.

It didn't take me long to see just how fragile those connections really were. I mean, don't get me wrong. I wanted to believe in something deeper. That those relationships were real.

But as the lights dimmed in my jail cell night after night, the hope that I held on to grew harder to maintain. Truthfully, the proof had always been there in plain sight. In the end, it only took those two months of isolation from the outside world to convince me.

My release date hung on the horizon. I used the idle time to sift through all my mistakes. I examined all the little things. All the minor and major details that had brought me to that point. The old turmoil burning inside me slowly faded, replaced by a persistent calm.

I adapted to my circumstances as the days came and went, much like I had in the military. I refused to be an eyesore. I didn't want to stand out or appear like I thought I was better than anyone else. My existence in that ecosystem of the lost depended fitting in.

"So, you like video games?"

Is that so strange? I wanted to ask as I studied Old Steve. He ran a frail hand through his peppered gray hair. The gesture gave him an unexpected air of dignity.

Somehow, we had drifted onto the topic of strategy during our usual game of Spades. The topic didn't really bother me any more than any other would have. After all, it was the night before my release and I was feeling more talkative than usual.

"Well, yeah. Of course!" I responded. "There's always a strategy to win and a story behind the madness. It's like reading a good book, only you get to make your own decisions along the way. And if the game is good, you get to invest a part of yourself in the outcome."

"Interesting take on it," he said with a nod of approval, taking a book for his team. "What would you do if life were a game?"

"I'd be the hero, for sure," I said after a moment of thought. "Only it would be different. They always have the hero start out as an immature dumbass, surrounded by a stereotypical heroine and a boring-ass supporting cast. Maybe predictable is the wrong word but my story'd be different."

Old Steve seemed to be reflecting on my answer a little more carefully than I expected, which was fine. He had asked, why not rant a little? I definitely had my share of grievances with the way things went down in games. Really, it was the story behind the games that I felt just didn't do anyone justice.

"Lights out in 10 minutes...," an officer's voice crackled over the intercom.

After cleaning up the cards, we disbanded. Back to my cell, back to my thoughts. Even before I joined the Marines, I had always been more or less an introvert. You had to be that way to survive in California.

If you didn't study the predators, you'd end up the prey. Even if you had no intention of taking advantage of other people's weaknesses, that didn't mean they weren't looking for yours. That idea really took root in the military, where everyone had a convenient mask to hide their real motivations. It seemed everyone was like that though, the older I got.

Once back in my cell, I pushed away those thoughts. I needed a job, first and foremost. I needed to finalize my divorce, and my ex-girlfriend was still pregnant. That was my sphere of control and it was time to accept it.