Page 10 of Give Me Redemption

“Go on ahead,” Bryce says. “I’ll be here.”

“What? Nah, man, come with us,” I say to him as I put my arm over one of the girl’s shoulders.

“I’m good. Go have fun,” he insists.

“All right,” I reply with a shrug. “Come on, ladies. You heard the man. Let’s go.”

One of the girls takes the bottle from my hand as we exit the door. She takes a gulp and then passes it to the other chick. I feel like I need to learn these girls’ names at some point, but it’s loud in here.

I’ll call the one with the black dress Lips ’cause that’s the first thing you notice on her face and the other Blondie ’cause, well, she’s blonde.

We near the bottom and a big guy turns around to look at us.

“Ben?” I ask. “Damn, dude, you’re still working here?”

He nods. “Good to have you back, Jace.”

I pat his shoulder. “Yeah, man.” I don’t say it’s good to be back this time because lying gets old. I wish I were with my boys, and I don’t know why I wish that… I mean, who wants to be near gunfire and the threat of death constantly? But it’s the one place I felt right.

I grab the bottle back from Lips and take a big swallow as the girls begin dancing around me, grinding on my cock and making me forget that my life is shit.

The night passes in a drunken blur. Some guy that Blondie knows ends up hooking us up with some blow and the shit’s fire. Not Middle East fire, but still, it’s doing the trick.

I’m fucked off my ass, and after a game of strip poker that ended with the girls naked, I sit on the couch in the private bar area, my head back against the cushions as they take turns blowing me.

After Bryce had his own fun with Blondie, he called it a night, but I have a feeling I won’t be asleep for quite some time. I grab Blondie’s hair and move her head back so Lips can have a turn. I’ve already figured out she’s better, and as she takes me all the way, choking and dripping spit, I lift my hips and fuck her mouth until my balls tighten and I release with a heavy groan.

She sucks me empty and I move her away and stand up for another line. Grabbing the rolled hundred on the table, I breathe in and lay my head back, feeling the tingling drain slide down the rear of my throat.

“Fuck,” I say, tossing the bill back onto the table and standing up. I put my dick in my pants and grab my beer before walking to the two-way mirror, hearing one of the girls snort a line. I look below as the lights blink on and the people begin to exit the club.

It’s that time of night when everyone leaves with someone else, they go back home to sleeping family members, or watch porn until they pass out drunk with their hand down their pants.

But everyone has something, ya know?

Or they used to.

I should be grateful I’m here.

But all I am is sorry.

I run my hand over my head as the cleanup crew starts in. My mind’s a black hole, dark thoughts circling each other like ghosts dancing around and around as the cocaine hotwires my veins.

Sometimes the simplest things can take me back, like the way the bartender is wiping out the glasses with the white towel. My skin sweats and my throat burns from a white powdery high and I stare at his movements, my mind taking me away from this club to a place that gave me purpose.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” Rocket says, wiping his brow with an orangish dirt-stained towel. Gunshots zip past us into the trees. I blink, looking ahead as an older man stands in a field all alone.

Pop, pop, pop. I look over at my staff sergeant as he talks with the Afghan who’s translating for us.

“They can’t even see what they’re fucking shooting at,” Rocket says beside me, but I can’t take my eyes off the man standing with a smile on his face. He’s in the middle of a war, no weapons, no sides, just him as bullets fly by.

“What the hell are you looking at?” Rocket asks me. I snap out of it and look back at him.

“The fuck you think? Look at that man out there.” I point.

Rocket looks, squinting from the harsh sun. “He’s in a poppy field. He’s probably fucked off heroin.”

Heroin.

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