So I've returned!!! With a phone, and it's summertime, and my birthday just passed, so that was nice. All in all, we're good on this side of your screen! What about you, my Lovelies?!?!?! How are you guys? Summer? Still in school? College? Work? Whuddup?! Let me know! Enjoy chapter 13! :)
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Chapter 13: Built Flower Tough
"Whoo! Well, I'd say that was fun, and let's do it again sometime, but, alas, perhaps we shouldn't." Victorian said as he hopped out of the jeep in front of the motel.
Everyone remained silent and glared at him before pulling their belongings from the car.
"Seriously, mates, I saved us! Can a man get a thank you?"
I walked up to him and flicked his ear. "You can shut up and be glad no one threw you out of the Jeep and left you to be blown up along with the Trucker."
"You wouldn't have done that to me now, would you, Love?"
My shoulders bounced in a nonchalant shrug. "I said be glad no one did, not I, specifically. There were easily another three possible launchers in that Jeep."
The bookbag that I had prepared for our journey was now hanging limply from the crook of my right elbow.
"It would do you some good to think about your comrades faster than your goals, Alexander." I finished, walking up the path to the front doors.
I looked around the foyer and stared at the wide open space. First, Aaron and I had sparred here to "release anger," and then he had decided to fight off an intruder, who ended up being my best friend.
Aaron may have liked hand to hand combat a bit more than normal.
I heard a pair of feet jogging and turned to see Victorian coming after me. "Now, wait a minute there, Love. Faster than my goals? Are you kidding? You've never complained about my methods before!"
I narrowed my eyes at the tone of his voice while his body came to a stop in front of me.
"You've never placed a bomb within four feet of your comrades, Victorian." I answered calmly. "I'm coming down on you because that's exactly my point. This isn't the first time you've done something like this."
"Exactly. Which is why it is to be expected. We got away, didn't we?"
The bookbag slipped off of my arm and fell to the floor, the echo resounding throughout the foyer.
I stepped closer to Victorian and whispered. "That doesn't mean it was okay. You endangered others. Yourself. That's a bad thing. How many times do I have to tell you this?"
"No, I endangered your boyfriend," he said with a scowl.
I scowled back. "This is not about him, Vic. This about you making rash decisions and placing your friends in peril. All the time. That is what this is about."
He opened his mouth to speak and I put an index finger over his lips.
"You are easily the most versatile and capable man I've ever known. You're my best friend," I said with a slight smile. "But there is no way you can expect me to not come down on you for placing your comrades' lives on the line for a mission. Especially the ones that don't know you like I do. That's dangerous, Victorian. Mind you, there are only five of us, and it's hard enough tearing through hordes as it is."
Pulling my hand back, I patted his chest. "Just...try being more careful? While I am a lone-wolf antisocial, I like the ragtag group of five better than Scarlett's pity party of one."
"Lieutenant..."
"Find out what people want to eat, okay? And our next plan of action."
"Lieutenant, would you just-"
"Later."
With that, I scooped my bag up from the floor and climbed the stairs to enter my suite.
My bag fell from my arms again and I tossed my sheathes atop it. The weight of my head seemed to increase as I flopped down onto the mattress. I felt like I was back in the Marines, constantly having to reprimand Victorian and worry about the safety of my team.
My team. I had gone from traveling desolate Texas land alone and quietly to traveling desolate Texas land with four others and nothing but noise. A big enough change for someone as reclusive as me was just having Aaron around, and with Victorian's arrival and duty to, as he would call it, play Cupid/ Big Brother, I was feeling the toll that was taking on me as well. And that was just in the two days he had been here.
A knock on the door brought me back to the world outside of my thoughts.
"Come in," I said, sitting up.
The crack between the door widened until I saw Aaron's head peek through with a smile.
"Hey," he said.
I gave a little wave and shifted to a side so he could sit.
"Fish and Chips is pouting downstairs."
I glanced at Aaron when I heard chuckles coming from him.
"Told him off, huh?"
"A bit," I started. "I didn't yell at him, and I certainly should have. He can reason a lot better than he does. He chooses not to, and he knows that I've always hated that."
"He did save us, Scarlett."
"Yeah, after placing us in even more danger than we already were. There's no excuse for that. And since when are you two best buddies?" I asked with a cocked brow. "Last I checked, you two were like cat and mouse."
Aaron shrugged while he continued to stand alongside the bed. "We aren't. But I can acknowledge when someone does something productive and beneficial."
"It was still dangerous."
"More dangerous than you running away from me and cutting yourself on that fire escape?"
"That was different. I knew I could make that jump, and I don't need you to take care of me. I do that just fine on my own."
I could hear Aaron's eyes rolling as he sucked his teeth. "That doesn't change the fact that you decided to jump between two buildings without scoping them out, along with nearly refusing first aid after you had cut yourself."
"I would have been fine, with or without the first aid."
Aaron sighed and squeezed the area between his eyes and I heard a low, "Ridiculous..."
"Look, Fish and Chips knew you could get the Trucker off of the Jeep, as well as get us away in time. Yeah, he scared the hell out of us, but we aren't dead. That was good thinking."
The area of the bed closest to me dipped under Aaron's weight, and I felt one of his hands press against where the cut had been.
"No scars from either, right?" He asked.
Hesitation. "Right."
"Then we should let bygones be bygones."
"You're saying I should apologize?"
"We already established you don't do that unless you need to. Do you think you need to?"
I mumbled my answer.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Yes, I do." I grumbled. "I thought you came in here for something else."
"Like what?" Aaron asked. His eyes were shining now, like he was ready to tell a joke.
"Like not to tell me to apologize to my best friend for being my best friend."
My body flattened against the bed and Aaron was hovering over me again. He lifted the hem of my tank top up, and I felt the knuckles of his fingers brush against my stomach. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," I whispered.
Why are you whispering, Scarlett?! Scream! Yell! Kiss him! Do something!
Brain talk. I was starting to believe that it was an effect of the injections. Maybe I was finally going insane.
Aaron leaned down and his lips brushed back and forth along my collarbone.
Yep. Insane.
"Something like this?"
He stopped in the middle and kissed his way up to my lips. I never really had many chances to kiss boys in high school or men in the military, but instincts told me that Aaron was the best kisser I had encountered in my entire lifetime.
Hell, hormones told me.
He pulled back and brushed a finger along my cheek.
"Yeah," I answered quietly. "Something like that. Jesus, you're turning me into some dandelion."
The mattress lifted as he got off the bed. "With your personality, I'll take that as a compliment."
"Mmm. And here I was hoping you'd take it as otherwise."
"Don't be sarcastic. It takes away from your bright outlook on life."
I rolled my eyes and sat up straight. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"
Aaron laughed another one of those throaty laughs that made me want to curl up and just listen to it. He had a nice laugh. One that I didn't want to stop hearing anytime soon.
"When you're ready, everyone is downstairs."
"Why?"
"Fish and Chips said you told him to find out what everyone wants to eat. He suggested lasagna. Everyone said yes, which means..."
"I'm going to cut Victorian in two," I said to myself.
The bastard would tell them I could make lasagna. And I could. A good one. I just hadn't felt compelled to in five years. Or however much time had passed since then.
"Well, I was going to say, 'that means you're making lasagna,' but...hmm. Why on earth would you do that and not me?" Aaron questioned. "Something I should know about your lasagna?"
I debated on whether to tell Aaron about her. Whether I should tell him about my family and how absolutely and dysfunctionally perfect it was.
I debated on whether I should tell him about me.
"Hey, your answer should have been something like, 'yes, it's the best damn lasagna you'll ever have!' or something like that. Instead, I'm getting silence. What's wrong?"
He grabbed my hands and laced his fingers through mine.
"Everyone has things they'd rather not bring to light, right?" I asked. "Things they don't want people to know?"
"Secrets," he replied.
"No," I shook my head. "Not secrets. Those are deliberately hidden. What I mean is something that isn't common knowledge. Something that is never talked about."
"If you put it that way," his hand squeezed mine. "Then yes."
"Then I wouldn't worry about Victorian and I, or my lasagna. It's the best damn lasagna you'll ever have!"
He stared at me for awhile and pulled his hands from mine.
"Okay," he said, sitting back on the bed. "Talk."
"Talk about what? Lasagna?" I guessed, playing stupid.
The look Aaron was giving easily said, 'cut the crap, Scarlett.'
"Sure, and then whenever you're ready to tell me what else is on your mind."
"It's just lasagna. You don't want to hear me ramble on about that."
He scooted backwards on the bed and leaned back against the pillows, arms crossed behind his head like he was ready to take a nap.
"Seriously, Aaron, it's nothing."
"You could just tell me, you know. Whatever it is that you want to. No worries."
This is a man I've known for less than a week, and this man is making me contemplate telling him about my family. And I wanted to.
I must have been going out of my mind because there was no other reason for allowing myself to talk about this...to anyone. I was a loner.
"The Blake family wasn't exactly the most productive where it mattered. I wasn't a normal kid, nor was I an only child. I had a sister and her name was–"
"Ruby?" Aaron guessed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grinning.
"No, you oversized dolt. Her name was Blythe."
"Ah, more of the upscale quality. Blythe Blake. Here I was, thinking Ruby was enough." He teased.
"Yeah, the Blake family harnessed plenty of that. She was the older of us two; expected to carry on the family name, however she so chose. As long as our parents approved, of course. The lasagna is made by the directions of my sister's recipe, not mine. She taught me how to make it. Victorian knows how I feel about this type of stuff, and, being the idiot he is, he's doing it to piss me off. No doubt about it."
"What happened?"
"You know what? It really doesn't matter. Everyone is expecting lasagna, but they're going to be disappointed." I began to get up when Aaron's arms formed a band around my waist from behind.
"Of course it matters. It's your sister."
The man was too sentimental for his own good, really. In addition, it wasn't the greatest of things that I was okay with that. We had zombies to snuff out.
"We just didn't deserve the "Sisters of the Year" award. We pretended like we did, though. My sister was always the more adventurous one. Taking chances and getting into anything that could shoot her adrenaline up. She fought when she was within school, she fought when she was outside of school, she just...fought. She was a rebel; the essence of the word. If there was a rule to break, Blythe was, hands-down, the first one to break it. She was willing to do what no one else had the guts to do, not even the worst of delinquents."
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "This is a call for a halo in your book?"
I shook my head. "She was absolutely brilliant. I'd say more than me, but our constant arguments as kids proved that statement wrong everytime she couldn't think of something to retaliate with. When I told her I was joining the Marines, she was telling me that I wasn't strong enough. That I should have stayed "boring" and become a scientist or something. Something academically geared. To me, it was as if she shaped it into some sort of competition for herself."
"You joining the Marines was a challenge to her? I'm not seeing it. Really."
"She was already in the Navy. I remember the day she had told my parents. Neither of them really showed any sort of disapproval. Both of the Blake heiresses were going to fight for their country. It was honorable, and it was something our parents could boast about with extreme pride. Blythe made it seem as if I had stolen her decision, and, whether that was to join the Marines, specifically, or, to escape the claws of our parents, I don't know. I never will know. She told me she was leaving on a mission that involved the Seals."
"So what happened to Blythe? You said she was in the Navy, right? Seals? Maybe Stephanie knew her! Maybe she knows where she is. You could see her, or talk to her, or...Scarlett?"
I had let him ramble on and on because it was pointless. There was no chance Stephanie knew my sister. At least, not a high one.
"She might as well have been a Seal. All of her fighting from when she was younger wasn't for nought. Add that to the training she received in the military and you were looking at a dangerous woman."
"I've seen one of those. Very intimidating." He gave me a slight squeeze.
"Have you heard about the Naval Operation: Mecca Shadows?"
"Near the Arabian Sea? Yeah, huge terrorist group infiltration and takedown from the inside out. It went picture perfect."
I snorted. "Yeah, if picture perfect is a damned SUV packed with nitroglycerin exploding and killing everything within a six mile radius."
"That wasn't in any of the reports I read," he said in astonishment. "Your sister got blown up?"
"Of course it wasn't. You should know by now that the military isn't too big on telling people the truth, or their intentions. She was injured there, and badly, but she survived. They never told her they were planning on leveling the compound they had her and her team infiltrate. Blythe wasn't blown up, but for how hurt she was...how terrible she looked? I figure she would have been fine with dying there. If there was a city or anything around, part of the blast could have been absorbed, you know? Slowed down and not as potent. There was nothing. Wherever she was was nothing but flat grassland. A plain. Had to be."
My hands were in tight fists now, my nails beginning to dig into my palms. The slight aches from the bending nails and pressure on my knuckles kept me from flying across the room and punching a hole through the wall.
"The next time I saw her, she was laying in a hospital bed with second and second- degree burns on about 40% of her body. She wasn't dead but her life was just slipping away."
Tears were pooling in my eyes and I pushed the heels of my hands onto them, hoping to stop the flow before Aaron noticed.
"I kneeled by her bed and screamed at her. I asked her why she did it. My sister was lying on a hospital bed with her skin burned right through, completely capable of conscious thought and brain activity. The only words that registered were 'to be like you,' and I just stared at her. I stared, and I squinted, and I gazed, and then I yelled at her, asking her why again. Her answer was that she was tired of being 'the sister who fought'... she told me that she wanted to do something with her life."
The feeling of air was becoming less and less familiar the further I dove into the story. Aaron was attempting to pull my hands from my eyes, but I wasn't going to let him. Victorian had never seen me cry more than once, and I'd known him for five years. At this rate, Aaron would see waterworks every time he decided to take a breath around me.
"Scarlett."
"A week later, she was dead. She couldn't recover from the burns. And you know the last thing she said to me before she died? 'I hope I finally made you proud.' My mind was moving at 200 miles per hour because I, for the first time in my entire life, had no idea what a person was saying, or even why they were saying it."
"Scarlett, hey, listen to me–"
"Like what type of crap is that? 'I hope I finally made you proud?' Who the hell says stuff like that anyway? That sounds like something from a death scene in a movie!"
Aaron gave a final tug on my arms and my hands fell from my face. I got even more pissed now that I felt the tears on my cheeks.
"Miss Lieutenant, listen to me–"
"She thought I looked down on her. My older sister spent 14 years of her life believing that I didn't approve of her when, in fact, I looked up to her. Worshipped her. Even when fighting...she was amazing. I mean, the girl cared about no one else's opinion!"
"Except yours, apparently," Aaron stated quietly. "Your approval was the only one that she sought, and–"
"She didn't understand that she didn't need to prove anything to anyone...and she lost her life because of me! How is that even sensible? She-"
"She loved you! Approvals from the ones you love are important." He grabbed my face. "Sometimes they're the most important."
Dodge that one.
"She threw her life away."
"She died doing what she thought was right, and she did it for the one person that she cared about."
Aaron dropped one hand from my face and slid the other down to my chin.
"You may have thought that the two of you hated each other, but, maybe you two loved each other so much that neither of you could see it. Maybe she was mad at you because being a Marine meant placing yourself into danger."
I tried to turn my head away, but Aaron's grip tightened slightly and my brown eyes continued to meet his green ones.
"Contemplate that," he said, rising from the bed. "And, when you're feeling up to it, the rest of us will be waiting on lasagna."
With a final caress on my cheek, Aaron left.
This was why I hated "talking" and "feeling" and emotions in general. When I was upset, the words poured out like lava, and God help whoever was in the area that wasn't deaf because chances were they wouldn't stop. Not only that, but they were exhausting. Food and feelings really did go hand in hand.
"Dammit!" I whispered fiercely.
Pasta had made me cry.
I was turning into a dandelion.
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WHOOOOOO! Okay, I died and came back to life! Did we like this? I thought it was okay because everyone needs a sort of backstory? Eh. I don't know. TALK TO ME MY BEAUTIFUL INTELLECTUAL TEDDY BEARS. HAVE A GREAT DAY! :)
Love,
Swaggerwithwords <3