Page 30 of Scammed

“I-I’m not sure. I remember being in pain, feeling the water fill my lungs. Then it was black. Then it wasn’t. I’m grateful for whatever or whoever gave me this opportunity. My wife is not something I could have ever imagined.”

“It’s great that you two fell in love. I think you were meant to be there for her,” said Tailor. “I think you were supposed to be on that beach that day.”

“What were you doing out there?” asked Gaspar.

“I was dreaming about my life when I was alive. Before. I was remembering the sunsets of the bayous, our bayous. The sounds and smells. It was always something I craved to come home to.”

“We’ve all felt that,” smiled Gaspar. “I used to watch the stars, knowing that back home the others were seeing what I was seeing. But all I ever wanted to do was come home. Have our land beneath my feet. I wanted to see those sunsets, hear the frogs and gators, the sounds of the cicadas. I needed to smell the magnolia and jasmine and my mama’s gumbo.”

The entire plane chuckled, nodding their heads.

“Will you always stay at Belle Fleur?” asked Marcel.

“Always? Well, I guess so,” said Nine. “I mean, they all belong because of their heritage. We were ‘adopted’ by Irene and Matthew, but I suspect we’ll stay. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Marcel, shaking his head. They all looked at him, knowing there was something else that was on his mind, but he didn’t ask, so they didn’t pry.

“Everything okay with you and Amy?” asked Angel.

“Oh, yes! I mean, it’s amazing to feel a woman beneath me once again. To touch one that I love so dearly, so completely. May I ask, is it common for women to wear such provocative clothing beneath their outer garments?”

“Yes,” laughed Angel. “Many women choose to do so, and aren’t we the lucky bastards that get to see it?”

“Yes, I consider myself fortunate. However, I may go bankrupt buying her new items. I keep ripping them from her body.”

“That’s the idea, mon ami, that’s the idea,” said Alec.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Las Vegas was hot. Beyond hot. It was the most miserable place that Marcel had ever been in his entire centuries of living, and he’d been to the deep jungles of South America, the tropics, and so many more places.

“Why would anyone live here?” he gasped.

“Some people like the heat,” said Angel. “Besides, it’s not always like this. Summer is pretty rough, but they get cold, even snow in the winter.”

“I find that very difficult to believe,” said Marcel.

“You’ll get used to it. Just make sure you’re hydrating, drinking a lot of water.” Nine looked at Gaspar, then back at Marcel. “Marcel? Do you remember how to handle the weapon we showed you?”

“Of course. I’m an expert marksman, and I enjoyed our time at your gun range. I can manage by myself if necessary.”

“Alright, good. Put this vest on beneath your shirt. It’s made of a very special metal that will prevent bullets from penetrating your body.”

“Yes, the technologies from G.R.I.P.,” he smiled. The others all stared at him, their mouths open. “Oh. I used to go out there quite often and watch as the devices were being made. I understand the concepts behind the whisper technologies and your communication devices implanted just behind the ear. I love mine, by the way. I feel very informed. The stealth vests and suits are simply miraculous, and I particularly love the weaponry being created. Marvelous. Just marvelous.”

“I need to visit G.R.I.P. more often,” frowned Whiskey. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t feel foolish,” laughed Marcel. “You have to remember that I have been able to witness history unfold. It’s been a gift. Many days, I felt like a child at Christmas waiting for my presents to be delivered. Perhaps that’s why things happened like this. By the way, Alec, thank you for helping me to order big and tall clothing. I never knew such a thing existed. My clothing was always custom-made.”

“You’re welcome, brother. But if you ever want anything custom-made, Tailor and Gwen can help.”

“Tailor? Your name is true to your occupation?” he asked. Tailor laughed, a huge bass belly laugh.

“No, brother. I just couldn’t find things to fit me growing up, so I made my own things. The name stuck. My real name is Billy Joe.”

“I see. Why do you call me ‘brother’? I am not related to most of you, and those that I am, technically, I would be your six- or seven-times grand-uncle.”

“Brother is a term we use in the military. We believe that we are all brothers in arms. We aren’t joined by familial blood but rather the blood we spill in battle,” said Nine. “I trust Tailor, Whiskey, Gaspar, Angel, any of these men as if they were my blood brother. It’s an affectionate term.”

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