Page 3 of Avenged

“Have you even seen the movie, Travis?” Jersey asked. She was one of the few people who called me by my real name. The majority of the people in my life called me Truck, a name I’d inherited at Texas A&M’s Maritime Academy and it had stuck with me in my military career.

“Of course,” I said, slightly offended.

Dawson groaned. “Don’t. Don’t get him started.”

“Started on what?” Jersey asked.

“His movies,” Dawson said.

“Are you a movie expert, then, Truck?” Georgie asked with laughter in her voice as well. They were all having a good time jabbing at me. I couldn’t resist a jab back.

“Maybe. But at least I don’t need a movie intervention.” I winked at her to soften the blow.

“Asswipe, that was between you and me,” Mac said, flipping me off.

“What have you been saying about me, Mac-Macauley?” Georgie asked, but there was no real irritation in her voice, more tease than anything.

“You just don’t know very many movies from the eighties and nineties, so Truck’s DVD collection could come in handy,” he answered, drawing her to him, but she pushed him away and wagged a finger between both of us.

“I don’t need to waste my time on old movies.”

Dawson groaned again. “See. You’re playing right into his hands. He’s going to give you his whole spiel about certain movies being the iconic example of a culture and class structure or some bullshit.”

“I don’t think I ever said iconic,” I said.

“Epic?” Dawson teased.

“Certain movies are the perfect representation of the era they were filmed in. Studying film is like studying pottery from an archaeological dig.” I finished screwing in the cable and stepped away from the wall and the TV. I grabbed the picture of Liesl from Mac’s hands and tossed it on the counter.

When I looked back, they were all staring at me, including the woman who made my hair stand up on my arm in a good way. In a way that made me want to know what it would feel like if we were tucked together.

“What?” I asked, meeting her gaze.

“That’s exactly what I say about comic books,” Jersey said in her whisper voice.

I nodded. “Except comic books always have more edge. They push the envelope of the time, whereas film is more a reflection of the status quo.”

She was nodding as well.

“Wait. Stop. I want to know what happened with Liesl,” Georgie said.

I shrugged. “I moved.”

“That’s it? Did you ask her if she wanted to move with you?” Georgie asked.

“It wasn’t that kind of relationship.”

“It was more than just sex if she gave you a picture with, ‘Love, Liesl,’ written on it with several hearts,” Georgie pushed.

“Her life was in Hawaii. Her family. Her culture. She had no desire to move stateside. I had no desire to remain on the islands. We’d known that from the very first date, but we stayed together while I was there because we enjoyed each other.”

I grabbed Dawson’s arm and twisted it behind him. “And this little shit should stay out of my business.”

Dawson was all muscle and put up a good fight that, if I hadn’t been military trained, would have ended with me on the floor. “Says the man who lives to interfere in mine,” Dawson griped back.

“You’re welcome,” I said and shoved him toward the open doorway. “Go get the rest of your boxes. I’m done ‘interfering’ with them.”

Dawson laughed and headed toward the door, but I knew underneath his laugh was a bitterness. He wasn’t happy to be in New London. He wasn’t happy to be away from his life in Clover Lake, but he didn’t have a choice. If he’d stayed, his dad would have arrested him.

---