I leave the library with a bounce in my step. Already, I am thinking about what Liege looks like and what kind of things he will ask me to do.
Who knew being bossed around could be fun?
I fluff up my hair one last time and glance at the picture of Ethan smiling at me.
In my heart, I know he would be happy I am moving on, but not trying to replace him.
Ethan will forever be my first and only love.
I take a picture of myself and groan when I look at it. I need it to be perfect for this first task. After ten more tries, I finally have one I like. This will be the first time Liege has seen a close-up of me. As my profile picture, I have one of me pushing against an impossibly huge rock as my profile pic.
It represents how I feel, but it’s too small to really see my face.
Rather than a picture, Liege has some kind of ancient symbol as his profile pic, so I have zero idea what he looks like, but I kind of like not knowing—it adds to his whole Dominant mystique. Besides, what a person looks like shouldn’t matter. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.
I have to laugh at myself as I decide to take one more picture. For all my high talk about looks not mattering, I’m sure putting a lot of energy into getting this one just right. When I’m finally satisfied, I get out my laptop and hit Reply.
After attaching the photo, I start typing.
Dear Master,
Okay, that feels weird—even just typing it.
I stare at it for a while, questioning if I am really ready to go through with this. But, when I think about how boring and depressing my life was before Liege, I realize I can’t turn back now.
The task is complete. I hope it meets your expectations.
I’m so new at this, I am relying on your understanding if I do something wrong.
You’re right. We haven’t even begun and I can’t stop thinking about what things you will have me do, especially with us being so far apart.
To be honest, I’m a little apprehensive because BDSM seems a bit scary, but you’ve got me curious. Plus, I’m dying to know what name you’ve picked out for me.
Candy
I hesitate, my finger hovering over the Send button. I’m about to make a commitment to someone I have never met.
This seems crazy.
However, Liege has stirred something inside of me I never knew existed.
This isn’t about love; this is about escape.
I push the button and sit back.
For better or worse, I have a Master now.
Welcome Home
Charles Walker
The day of our graduation from basic training, I stand proudly next to Grapes and Jackson. None of us has failed basic training due to the brilliant, but punishing, guidance of our leader.
Drill Sergeant Herbert Marshall has molded us from boys to men in nine short weeks.
We are U.S. Army Soldiers now.
Grapes and I watch as Jackson’s family come up to congratulate him. I think of that nervous kid I met on the bus. He stands taller and with a confident air—no longer needing to scratch the back of his neck. You can tell his parents are impressed by his stepfather’s proud smile and the way his mother keeps staring at him with a look of awe.
Grapes and I stand alone and vow to drink heavily tonight.
“Feels good, sitting on the sidelines, doesn’t it?” he jokes.
“I won’t lie. I wish my family was here.”
Grapes shakes his head. “I’m glad mine aren’t.”
I stick out my hand and say in a fatherly voice, “I’m damn proud of you, son.”
He chuckles, taking on the same tone as he shakes it. “You may not be good enough, but you’re good enough for the Army, son.”
We both laugh.
I was hoping to see Jacob and my mom, and I am disappointed they are not here, but it’s not entirely unexpected. There’s no point in dwelling on it. Besides, we’re all headed for Advanced Individual Training after this, but only two of us are doing field artillery training. It’s a damn good thing I’ve made my peace with Grapes, because it appears I’m stuck with the prick.
My goal has always been to protect those who fight for our country, and I will do what it takes to rise up in the ranks as fast as I can. I may not have a college education, but I have the bullheaded determination of a Walker, and I know my destiny.
That night, despite the fact I have never received a response, I write to my little brother.
Hey Jacob,
I graduated from boot camp today and am officially in the US Army. I can’t tell you how good it feels!
I’m missing Mama’s warm rolls and watching Welcome Back, Kotter with you Thursday nights. But really, I’m just missing spending time with you guys. I look forward to making up for it when we get together.
I know you only have a few more weeks of summer, so play hard.
But after school starts, hit those books just as hard, little man.
I’ll be writing you again after my first week of field artillery training. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Oh, and Grapes, my Battle Buddy, says hello.
Love,
Charlie
I show Grapes the last line in my letter. “I figure he should know you made it.”
There’s a slight smile on his lips when he elbows me in the ribs. “No thanks to you, BS.”
He deserves to be remembered for this accomplishment, which is why I included him in Jacob’s letter. It will be a record of his achievement, even if his own family never hears of it.
Grapes has come a long way, and no one should be forgotten.
Seven Years Later
It’s pitch black out, not a star in the sky. A perfect night for a live fire exercise. The tension in the platoon is high, but I know my men and trust in their training.
Dividing them into squads, I explain team objectives and how they will aid in the success of our mission. It won’t be easy. The battlefield is filled with mortar pits, barbed wire, tank traps, and trenches. I am acting as the gunner to ensure they make it to the objective without incident.
Using a stick, I draw out in the dirt where each group is to go. It’s simple enough, but I know what they are in for and tell them, “You have been trained for this. Stay focused. Don’t overthink it.”
The moment they head out, machine guns start blasting. The sky is so dark, I can’t see my men moving along the ground. I only get a glimpse of them when the parachute flares are launched lighting up the entire battlefield.
Damn, their progress is slow. But I have faith in my men and my plan.
My part tonight is to use a mortar gun to destroy the targets once my team finds them. When it’s time, I double-check the angle and azimuth, knowing my math needs to be spot on or I’ll miss.
I yell, “Hang it!” and aim the mortar gun before the shell is dropped into the shaft. “Fire!” A thrill runs through me when I watch as our first target is destroyed.
We move on to the next stage of our mission, but total darkness and the stench of gunpowder is messing with the minds of my men below and it’s slowing us down. When a flare goes off, I see several groups huddled together with their hand on the man in front of them to keep from getting lost in the dark while others are being held back, tangled in barbed wire. But, as I watch, each squad clears their hurdles and gets where they need to be.
All of my men are in “soldier mode” now, their intense training taking over as they react to the environment around them. They have only the objective in mind. Their ability to act without having to think brings order in the midst of chaos.
The deafening boom of the artillery shells fill the night air as yet another one of our target is destroyed.
I feel a rush of adrenaline, watching it blow up. This is what I was born for.
Another flare shows me that my men are close to our final objective. One last hill. One last target. Finished. Mission completed. I rush over and join my men, my heart swelling with pride
at their victory.
My platoon has performed well under the pressure of our live fire exercise, and I am confident they are prepared for real battle.
I’ve had a bad feeling about returning home…
When my two-year enlistment ended, my First Lieutenant advised me to take time off to get my associate degree. Impressed by my performance and initial ASVAB score, he informed me that a few years earlier, at the end of the Vietnam War, the Army began allowing enlisted men with the degree to enroll in Officer Candidate School.
I took advantage of the opportunity, joining an accelerated program to get my associates degree as rapidly as possible to attend OCS and earn my commission as Second Lieutenant. By pushing myself hard, and using all of my personal leave for classes, I attained the remaining credits needed for my Bachelor of Science degree several years later.
All that hard work and persistence finally paid off when I became First Lieutenant.
I now have my eyes set firmly on reaching my goal of Captain within the next two years. However, in all this time, I have yet to hear a word from my family. My high school buddy, Will, confirms they still live at the same house, so I continue to send letters to Jacob every Tuesday. It’s the only thread of connection I have with my family, and I can’t give that up.
I know Jacob has just finished his first year of high school—I can’t even picture him being that old.
It’s time I come home.
I step out of the taxi, dressed in my service uniform, and grab my duffle bag from the seat before handing the driver his cash. I then turn to face the house.
It looks exactly the same, not one blade of grass out of place. My father has always been fastidious about keeping the yard and exterior pristine, while my mother is expected to keep the same standard inside.
I feel a sense of comfort as I stare at our house. Even though seven years have passed, it looks as if time has stood still. I, on the other hand, have changed dramatically. I am not the same person I was when I left—too much has happened since then.
One of Jacob’s friends passes by on his bike and shouts out as he whizzes by, “Heya, Charlie. Welcome home!”
I turn to him and wave. “Thanks, kid.”
I stare at the house again, building up my courage before heading up the walk. Before I make it to the porch, my father comes out and shuts the door behind him. “I told you not to come back.”
I take off my hat out of respect and state, “It’s been seven years, sir.”
“What difference does that make? I told you the minute you left this house, you weren’t to come back here.”
“How is that fair to Jacob or Mom?”
“Your mother and I are agreed on this, and what Jacob thinks has little relevance.”
I shake my head, unable to believe he could be this unforgiving and stubborn. I know my mother does not agree but is afraid to confront him, and it’s Jacob who is suffering the most for it.
I put my hat back on. “I am a First Lieutenant of the U.S. Army and have been gone seven years serving our country, sir. I have a right to see my brother.”
I hear a car pull up behind me and turn to look. I’m shocked to see a police officer step out from a cop car and realize my father called the police before coming outside.
The officer strolls up the walk, saying, “I just happened to be passing by and got a call. What seems to be the problem here, Mr. Walker?”
“This man is trespassing,” my father barks.
I look at the officer and explain, “I’ve just come to see my family.”
The officer looks at my father with a confused expression. “Is this your son?”
“No,” my father states firmly.
This is the first time he has verbally denied me as his son in front of another. It cuts deep.
“I want this man off my property now!” my father demands.
The officer gives me a sympathetic look and glances at the decorations on my uniform. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Walker, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I glare at my father. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I’ve done nothing to deserve it, Father.”
He snorts. “You are no son of mine.”
The neighbors have come out to see what’s going on, curious about the police car and the commotion my father is causing.
I turn to the officer. “I have no interest in causing a scene. I simply came to see my little brother.”
The man presses his lips together and turns to look at my father in disbelief. “At least let him say goodbye to the boy.”
My father roars at me, “Go, and never set foot on this property again!”
I nod to the officer and turn to walk away. My father has won. I will never come back here.
The officer walks beside me and asks, “You need a ride, Lieutenant Walker?”
“A ride to the nearest bar would be great.”
“You got it,” he replies, opening the passenger door of the police cruiser for me.
I glance back and see Jacob’s face peeking through the window upstairs. Before I can wave to him, his head disappears.
That’s all I get for my family reunion, but I take solace in knowing he saw me. At least he knows I care.
I sit down at the bar, bemoaning the fact I have twenty-nine days left of my leave. What in the hell am I going to do with all that time?
“Hey, soldier, what can I get ya?”
I turn my head to answer, and the waitress bursts out in a huge smile, “Oh, my God, it’s Charlie! I haven’t seen you in years.”
I instantly recognize Ellen, the cute brunette who was flirting with me the last day of class. I’m glad to see her, but I’m still reeling over what just happened at the house, so my answer is strained. “It’s good to see you again.”
She stares at me, dumbfounded. “I’m in total shock here. You’ve sure matured since I last saw you.” She runs her hand along the sleeve of my jacket. “And, I must say, you look good in a uniform.”
I chuckle. “Thanks.”
She takes my order and calls out to the bartender, “Whatever he wants, it’s on me.”
The bartender shakes his head. “Nothing doing, Ellen. It’s on the house. Glad to have you back.”
I know that voice and realize it’s Arnold, the guy known for his wild parties—so tending bar makes sense. He’s grown pudgier and a lot hairier since I last saw him.
“Thanks, Arnold. Appreciate it.”
“So, what’ll you have?”
“Jack on the rocks.”
“You got it.”
It feels good to be treated with respect for my service by people who are actually glad to see me. I shake my head, still in shock that my own family won’t acknowledge me.
I look at Ellen again and see that flirtatious grin I remember from high school and ask, “So, tell me what you’ve been up to over past the seven years.”
“Oh, you know, trying to stay out of trouble and make ends meet.”
“No husband or kids?”
She blushes. “Haven’t found the right guy yet…”
“She’s too picky,” Arnold calls out from the bar.
Ellen laughs.
It is a charming sound. I have been so focused on my military career, I haven’t given any thought to life outside of it. But seeing Ellen again makes me question that decision.
“What are you looking for?” I ask her jokingly.
She twirls a strand of her hair when she answers. “Oh, you know, someone with a good head on his shoulders…who can sweep me off my feet.”
I raise an eyebrow, seeing the invitation in her words. I ignored her invitation once, but I’m not about to again. “What time do you get off?”
She giggles excitedly and walks over to get my drink from Arnold. “Hey, what time can I cut out of here, Arn?”
“Stacey doesn’t get here until four, but you can leave once she shows up.”
“Thanks, Arn!”
Ellen returns to me an
d hands me the drink. “Will that work?”
“It’s not like I have any other plans to get in the way.”
“Is that because of your dad? He’s been a real ass ever since you left.” She suddenly gets a worried expression and covers her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
I shake my head in disgust. “No, you’re right. He is an ass. I used to defend him, but after today…”
“What happened?”
I sigh heavily and take a drink before I answer. “Let’s just say I won’t be returning home.”
Ellen looks worried. “Does that mean you don’t have a place to stay?”
“I wasn’t counting on a greeting with open arms from my father, so I’ve already made a reservation at Motor Inn.”
“Oh, my goodness, you can’t stay there! That place is swarming with bed bugs.”
“Well, that’s just great…”
“I’ve got a couch,” she offers with a shy grin.
“No, I could never impose like that.”
“How would it be an imposition if I make the offer?”
“People would talk,” I warn her.
Ellen shrugs. “So let ’em. It’d be fun to be the center of gossip.”
“I don’t know…” My hesitation comes from my concern for her.
“Take her up on her offer, meathead,” Arnold tells me.
“How about we start with a date and see how it goes from there?” I ask her.
“Sounds perfect, Charlie.”
I spend the next few hours catching up with Arnold and Ellen. It becomes quickly apparent to me that nothing has really changed in this town, and I am grateful I left when I did. Regardless of the strain between my father and I, leaving was the best thing for me. I am light-years ahead in my career and much more experienced in life, compared to these two.
At twenty-five, I am in command of over sixty men in my platoon, and I have gained invaluable knowledge working under my commanders and the advanced training I’ve taken. Coming back here feels as if I’ve stepped back in time—and I feel out of place.
Seeking Escape
Candy