Page 1 of Clean Slade
ONE
SLADE
9 Years Ago
“Oh man, I still can’t believe my teddy-bear-loving big brother is now a real-life GI Joe,” Rhett said as we finally left my family home in Queens and got into a cab.
I glanced at the taxi driver before glaring at my little brother.
He had this stupid grin plastered on his face that had been there for as long as I could remember. He’d probably been born with it, and it had gotten him into trouble on a regular basis.
Ah, I’d missed him. I’d missed everyone, really, ever since Camp Hell. It was impossible not to when I’d practically helped raise my brothers.
“Keep it down, idiot!” I told him.
My job wasn’t one to recklessly shout while out and about, especially not at nighttime when it was certain to attract trouble.
Oh, the number of drunk boys who loved challenging a Navy SEAL. And they weren’t even pretty boys I could be down with if a little rough and tumble led to some x-rated times under the sheets.
“Tell me. Tell me. How is it? Have you killed anyone yet?”
“Rhett!”
The taxi driver glanced at us through the rearview mirror, but I ignored him and stared at my brother.
He mouthed an apology, but I still gave him my sternest expression to dig the guilt a little deeper.
I steered the conversation to safer subjects, like Mom’s health and the goings-on in the lives of my other siblings, and soon, the taxi stopped outside Black Lotus.
Oh, if the walls and floors of this place could talk.
Thankfully for me and my dignity, they couldn’t.
“When do you have to be back?” Rhett handed the driver cash, and we walked up to the bouncers guarding the doors.
“Monday.”
My brother flashed his fake ID, I did the same with my real one, and they let us through. The music was pumping even in the coat room, completely encompassing me once we were through to the main floor.
The smell of sweat, sex, and booze was intoxicating.
“I bet the eye candy on your team is better.”
I shrugged.
“Maybe, but I’d never do anything with a teammate.”
My brother laughed. “Give it time. Beer?”
I nodded, and he weaved through the crowds toward the bar, leaving me behind to watch men and women use the art of dance and seduction to have a good time.
God, I’d missed New York. I’d missed the anonymity and chaos of this city. I’d missed the possibility of it all.
Everything was always so serious in the Navy. The training, the missions, the routine. Of course it had to be. But it was good to be able to relax after such a long time.
I walked the perimeter of the dance floor, not boozed enough yet to join the wildness, and scanned the crowd for familiar or interesting faces.
A few of the booths were occupied, but there was only one that caught my attention.
