For Liberty: A Red Hot and BOOM! Story Read online

  It almost seems like I’m on a different world up here—isolated from everything I’ve known—my brothers being the only solace to my lonely heart. Even though I feel like the infinite mountains dominate our every move, it is obvious to me that this ugly war is what really controls our fate.

  “Hey, Beck. You done fuckin’ your chick through the holes in that paper?” Not wanting him to see my letter to Libby, I quickly stuff it under my ratty pillow and turn to glare at my buddy.

  “Don’t be jealous, Kenz.” Jayson McKenzie is by far the douchiest, yet most honorable man I know. My battle buddy to the end, he also lives and breathes to give me shit.

  “Jealous? Naw,” he says with a wave of his hand as he plops down on the cot across from me. “I think it’s sweet you’re so in touch with your feminine side. Plus, you gotta send love to your dog back home, right?”

  Tossing my pencil at him, the eraser hits him square in the eye.

  “Mother fuck!” he exclaims. “Really, dude? I was just fucking with you. No need to pull out the big guns and assault me.”

  “Stop whining. You’re the one who came in here starting shit,” I say while bending over to pick up my only pencil. A light grunt comes from somewhere deep within me as I straighten back up, my muscles screaming after our continuous travels through the steep terrain. “What do you want, anyway?”

  “I was just checkin’ on you. You seemed a bit rattled once we made camp.” His tone dipping to a lower level makes it obvious these are more serious matters than our joking moments ago.

  “Yeah, Kenz, I’m good. Just needed a breather, that’s all.”

  “Good enough,” he says, standing and pausing before exiting the tent. He runs his fingers over his short, dusty blond hair and sighs. “I’m actually a bit jealous you have something to go home to when this shitstorm is all over. Say hi to your girl for me, will ya?”

  Well, damn. What the hell am I supposed to say in response to that? “Will do,” is the only words I can muster. It’s lame, but, as men, we usually don’t need to overembellish our thoughts to each other.

  Taking a deep breath and cleansing my thoughts of how lonely my friend must be, I pull the papers from beneath my makeshift pillow and read the last few sentences of the letter in progress. I know the military will censor my letter somehow, especially since I’m taking too many liberties already. Needing to change the tone and make sure my entire letter isn’t redacted, I decide to jump right in with Kenz’s request.

  Kenz says hello. The poor schmuck likes to pick on me for writing to you so often, but I can tell he’s even lonelier than he lets on. I know I talk about him a lot in my letters, and I can’t wait for you to meet him someday. He truly is a good friend, regardless of how much of an asshole he can be at times.

  With dinner almost ready, I must be going now. Before I end this letter, my love, I want to leave you with one memory I often think of when I’m missing you...

  Our first kiss.

  Forever and always,

  Max

  I can’t help but smile with the memory of that day. Although I didn’t know it at the time, it was her twenty-second birthday. She was so damn sexy in her cute little cut-off jean shorts and plaid, button-up shirt, the hem tied around her waist to show her seriously feminine curves and that adorable navel ring.

  Even though I knew her back in high school, I admittedly didn’t give her much notice. At the time, she was a young girl. But while I was away, she changed, blossoming into the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.

  I remember gravitating toward her that day—hopeful she’d remember who I was after all those years. I was far from a virgin at the time, but I’d never remembered feeling so nervous about kissing a woman as I did that night, under the stars, as we watched the fireworks burst overhead.

  To this day, I can still feel the butterflies in my stomach as I recall putting the moves on her. I tried so hard to be confident, but inside, I had the fear any normal guy would at the risk of being turned down.

  She was so beautiful as she gazed up at the exploding bits of fire, the colors dancing in her eyes and illuminating her milky white skin. Before the grand finale, I reached out, touched her cheek ever so slightly, and held my breath as I turned her face toward mine. Tracing my finger along the bottom of her jaw, I looked into her eyes, begging... pleading for her to grant me permission to kiss her.

  And she did. Not only did she allow me to kiss her, she returned the kiss with lips of fire. Her tongue was soft and sweet as she gently darted it out to meet mine. The exploding fireworks up in the sky were nothing in comparison to the scorching heat singeing my insides—because of her. She gave a whole new meaning to grand finales.

  “Beck, you comin’?” Kenz asks, poking his head through the slats in the tent. He doesn’t wait for my response before he backs out, the sounds of his footfalls getting quieter as he gets further away.

  “Yeah, I’m comin’,” I whisper to myself, folding the pages of my letter and stuffing it back beneath my so-called pillow.

  Someday soon, I’ll be in her arms... home.

  Chapter Three

  Liberty

  “So, when is he due back?” Holly asks as she hefts the bucket of feed and makes her way over toward the troughs. Because I am now seven months pregnant, my sister has to come to work with me and help with the heavy lifting. Busying myself with grooming one of the horses, I think about how to answer.

  “He left in May, and it’s supposed to be a year-long tour. In his letters, he makes it clear he will return in May.” I pause. I’m always unsure of how much information I want to share with my family members. They don’t need to know all the nitty-gritty details. “One can only hope,” I add with a shrug.

  Dropping the bucket with a loud thud, she stares at me wide-eyed, completely ignoring the startled horses now prancing about in their stalls—one of them right next to me.

  “What?” I ask with a shrug, completely bewildered as to why she is staring at me as if I have three heads.

  “You mean to tell me he won’t be back before the baby is born?” The horses twitch with her high-pitched voice, and I decide it best to step away from them until she gets herself under control. Last thing I need is a kick to the stomach because they feel threatened in any way.

  “Hol, you need to chill. And no,” I answer, shaking my head, “he won’t be back.” With my gaze down to avoid her scolding stare, I click the stall shut on my last word.

  “How are you going to handle this... all on your own?” she questions, the worry evident in her tone.

  “I’ll make do. I’ll figure something out, I’m sure. Plus, I won’t be alone. I’ll have you and Mom, right?” I ask with a shy shrug and a tilt to my head.

  “Well, of course! That’s a given. I’m just surprised the Army won’t let him come back for something as important as the birth of his own child,” she says with a wave of her hand as she sits on one of the barrels of hay.

  “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I confess, sitting beside her and laying back on the plush hay. The blades prick a little, but the rich, potent smell is comforting to me in some way.

  “Well?” she prods, turning sideways and propping herself up on her elbow. Her dainty fingers thread through her now-brunette locks, and I wonder if that massive rock on her finger ever gets stuck in her fake-colored hair. Her husband went all out when he chose to put an ice rink on her hand.

  “He doesn’t know,” I say with a sigh, closing my eyes and waiting for her to flip on me. “Before you yell at me, it’s not my fault. I didn’t tell you this because I figured you would try to talk me into seeing other people, but I’m not able to write to him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His mission is classified, so I have no way of writing back to him. He can write to me, but only in spurts—and there will often be big sections blacked out, like his words are censored or something. Sometimes, I’ll get two or three letters at a time, and the
n a month or two will go by without a word.” I take a deep breath and peer over at her. Though only a year younger than me, she has always been wise for her age—sometimes more sensible than I’ve ever been.

  “First of all, I would never suggest you see other people just because of a little communication block. Second, I can’t believe he doesn’t know.” Her voice is almost a whisper on the last few words. “You’re going to have a baby when he returns. How fucking cool is that?” And there’s the overly enthusiastic Holly I know so well.

  “A nearly four-month-old baby, Hol. It’s a little much for me to wrap my head around.” With one hand held protectively over my belly, I use my other hand to wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “God, he’s going to be so shocked. I feel bad for the dude.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” I say with a chuckle. My belly bounces as I laugh, which causes both Holly and I to burst in a fit of giggles.

  Placing her hand on my bump, she asks, “Is he moving?” I don’t have to answer her as the little baby boy inside me kicks. Moving her hand, she follows the direction of the thumps to the opposite side of my body. “There he is. Have you thought of a name yet?”

  I nod and a huge grin forms across my face. “Maximus Liberato Becker.”

  Placing the photo into the scrapbook I created, I scribble the words: Tummy time is fun—one month old. A long sigh weighs heavily on me as I flip through the pages and look at all the things Max has missed over the past month.

  Due to finances and not being able to work the stables over the past two months, I’ve had to move in with my mother. Even though it’s been a relief to have her help, I feel somewhat like a sponge—a drifter—never really having a true home to speak of. The feeling of loneliness is constant, only replaced by worry as time goes on without him.

  Three letters arrived from him today—Valentine’s Day. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Not only is our son one-month old today, but I get to read letters from my love on a day solely dedicated to the heart and soul.

  Setting the scrapbook on the nightstand next to the baby’s bassinet, I dig the letters out of my back pocket and begin to organize them into my special box. Even though I had already read them as soon as the mailman dropped them off, there is one particular letter I’m just dying to read again more slowly, so I can pay attention to the words he is attempting to express.

  Just remembering the desperation in his tone has my tears welling up again.

  With the dim lamp as my only light source so as not to wake the baby, I squint and re-read his messy scrawl.

  For Liberty,

  The days seem to be growing longer without you by my side. I can’t tell you how nervous it makes me to write these letters and never hear anything in return. I know that is not your fault, but it still puts a twist of pain in my gut at the possibility you will no longer be there when I get back. I can’t have that happen to us. I wish there was some way I could be certain you will still be my Libby.

  Promise me... promise you will still be there for me. I don’t want to come home and find my world turned completely upside down. I want to make you happy, build a life with you, and grow old by your side. Please promise you’ll be patient and wait for me to return to you.

  The baby’s stirring has me pausing midway through the letter. With a quick check, I notice he is fine. While the tone of Max’s letter is desperate and heart wrenching, it makes me happy knowing he wants to, as he says, build a life with me. I only hope this means learning about his son won’t be too much of a kink in his plans.

  Taking a deep breath, I continue to read...

  How am I supposed to express the deep love I have for you and not come off sounding cheesy? It’s impossible. With your amazingly good looks and your almost infinite ability to tolerate my boyish behavior, you are the catch of all catches for me—my match. Your smile and laugh are infectious, and I’d give anything to hold you in my arms at this very moment. Hell, I’m even smiling right now just thinking about your lips curling up in that cute little grin of yours.

  I’ve soaked too many sheets of papers with my tears. I know that probably makes me sound like a complete pussy, but I can’t help it. Life out here can become bleak at times—all my buddies suffering with physical ailments or aching hearts tugs at my soul. My sorrow soaking my face, my hands, my shirt... it’s all a man can do sometimes in a battle of love and war.

  I consider these letters to you a work of my heart—a vow to you that I will someday return and only dream that you will be there to welcome me with open arms. What I’ve learned throughout all this mess is I’m not the only one with fear of the unknown. So many soldiers are just like me... struggling to make it through each traitorous day. It’s almost as if there are a thousand voices behind these letters. Thousands upon thousands struggle each day to keep their love for one another intact. Sometimes, they just don’t know how to express it.

  So, without sounding like too much of a sap, I consider these letters to be the voice of every soldier who has ever not known what to say, and also for every loved one who thought they were alone in this battle. I can only hope you’re on the other end, reading the words that are pouring from my soul, and waiting with baited breath for my return.

  My dearest Liberty, please wait for me.

  With love,

  Max

  Tears are now pouring from my eye sockets like a busted dam. I clutch the letter to me, desperate for him to subconsciously feel how strong my love for him is.

  With the waterworks still flowing, I collapse onto my pillow and let sleep take me away.

  Chapter Four

  Maximus

  I’ve made the decision. It’s final. It’s going to happen. I’m counting down the days—twenty-four to be exact. I know she’s expecting me to come back sometime in May, so when I arrive at the end of April, she should be more than surprised. I just hope she’s been waiting for me.

  The decision is easy to make... so natural. It’ll be like taking an effortless breath. As soon as I get home, I plan to pop the question. I may have just enough time to get a ring before I see her, although I’m not certain I’ll be patient enough for such a task. I’ll make it work though, because every girl as amazing as Liberty deserves an amazing proposal.

  I have no doubt in my mind that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

  “Whatcha thinkin’ so hard about, Beck?” Kenz asks as he walks by and swats me on the back of the head.

  Rubbing the spot where his hand made contact, I glare at my friend. “Like I’d tell you anyway.”

  “Of course you will. You aren’t one for keeping secrets, remember? You gossip like a teenage girl.” Even though his comment is infuriating, it doesn’t mean it’s not a little true. Kenz and I don’t have very many secrets from each other. As battle buddies, we spend nearly twenty-four hours a day together. Hell, I can’t even take a piss without the man covering my six.

  “I was just thinking about how I plan to propose to Libby when I return in less than a month.” I chance a peek at my friend to gauge his reaction. He seems confused at first before a look of sorrow crosses his genuinely kind eyes.

  “Man, are you sure about that? Not to be a buzzkill or anything, but wouldn’t it totally suck to have a ring in hand and find out she’s boinking the neighbor boy who hasn’t been gone for a year?” Holding his hands out in a defensive position, he tries to explain himself. “I just think it would be much easier on your ego if you make sure she’s still riding the Beck train before you go out and finance a rock the size of Texas.”

  I can’t help but bark out a laugh at his poor attempt to save my heart from breaking in two. “You’re such an eloquent piece of shit, you know that, Kenz? But, I want to be prepared. If she is still there and waiting for me—and Christ, I hope she is—then I want to be ready to show her how...”

  My voice trails off, worried I’ll become too emotional at the thought of her not being there to accept my hand. Clearing my throat, I
continue. “I just want to surprise her, is all.”

  “Yeah,” Kenz says with a sigh, shaking his head in defeat. “Yeah, I get that. Just be careful. I don’t want to have to scrape your ass off the concrete if things don’t turn out the way you expect.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Several months pass, and the day I was supposed to return home came and went. Due to several new developments in our mission, as well as a major setback I never wish to think or speak of again, our time in this godforsaken country has been extended.

  I just received word earlier today that I’m being granted my leave and my homecoming date is set for the first of July. With so little planning and no way to really communicate with Libby, I plan to take a stab in the dark and just show up on her doorstep. It isn’t really a plan, but more of a desperate attempt to put the past fourteen months behind me.

  If she is no longer waiting for me, I don’t know what I will do... how I will cope. It’s one thing to be rejected by the love of your life, but to do it without your best friend there to support you is beyond my scope of imagination. Just the thought of losing both Kenz and Libby puts a hole in my heart—a hole that will never heal. I only hope it will someday mend, and I know for a fact the only way it can is with her love.

  Tilting my head back, I look up at the night sky and try desperately to think of her as a star. Even though I can’t see her in all her glory, it doesn’t mean she isn’t there shining down on me. Before I left, she told me she would always be there for me.

  I plan to hold her to that promise.

  Chapter Five

  Liberty

  A cry... no... a wail... wakes me from a deep sleep and has my heart pounding before my mind can catch up.