Semper Fi (10 page)

Jim watched in shock as Cal impaled himself on his fingers, his other hand stroking his cock again rapidly. He’d never imagined such a thing before, yet he quivered with a base desire to penetrate himself the same way. It was madness, but he couldn’t stop watching.

With a whispered word Jim couldn’t make out, Cal bit back a moan, coming over his hand and chest in long spurts that made Jim’s own balls tighten. Of necessity, Jim’s feet were finally able to move, and he crept back to his room, trembling. He eased the door shut and leaned against it, his heart hammering his ribcage.

Consumed with a want and need he’d never experienced, Jim tugged down his pajamas enough to free his leaking cock. It only took three strokes before he came, hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his cries as the pleasure flooded into every pore.

His legs gave way and he slumped to the floor. Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer that whatever sickening weakness and depravity had gripped him would disappear as quickly as it had taken hold.

“Would you stop?”

With effort, Jim kept his eyes on the road and his tone even. “Stop what?”

Cal laughed. “Stop sneaking looks at me every thirty seconds like I’m made of glass and going to faint dead away any moment. I told you, I feel as good as new.”

As Jim turned the pickup onto County Road 78, he concentrated on keeping his voice flat and normal. “I’m not looking at you.”

But his gaze had drifted to Cal all morning, seemingly of its own accord. Jim couldn’t get the thought of what he’d witnessed the night before—Cal splayed wantonly, pleasuring himself—from his mind. It was disgusting and beyond the pale, invading Cal’s privacy and feeling so…excited by it.
What’s wrong with me?

“Uh-huh. Jim, I’m fine.” Cal reached out and patted Jim’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry.”

Even through his shirt and jacket, Jim felt like the touch of Cal’s hand scorched his flesh, and his groin tightened. Good Lord in heaven. He cleared his throat. “If you say so.”

“I say so.” Cal glanced around as they entered the village, the country road becoming Tivoli’s main street, Broadway. “So, this is where you went to school growing up?”

“Yep.” Jim forced a laugh. “I’m sure Manhattan has nothing on Tivoli. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.” They passed the bakery and the two-story Madalin Hotel before pulling up in front of the general store.

“It’s nice. Peaceful. Is there a college here?”

“No. Bard College is just down the road, though. I took a few classes there after high school. Then my dad got sick and Sophie was on the way, and there just wasn’t time. But Ann always wanted to go. They started admitting women during the war or else they wouldn’t have had any students.”

“I’m sorry she didn’t get the chance.”

Thoughts of Ann brought back the familiar shame, and combined with what he’d done the night before, Jim felt nauseated. “Me too. She’d wanted to go to one of the women’s colleges after high school, but her parents wouldn’t let her. She had to beg and plead to get a job.”

“Where’s her family from?”

“Up in the Catskills. They wanted her to marry the neighbor’s son, but she ended up with me.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not sure they ever forgave me for it.” At the thought of Ann’s parents, Jim’s stomach knotted further. “That reminds me, they’re coming for lunch next Sunday. It won’t be until after church, since they won’t come to St. Paul’s. They’re Catholic.”

“Aren’t you Catholic too?”

Jim had to laugh. “No, Cal. I’m Episcopalian. It’s not all the same, you know.”

“Seems pretty similar from where I’m sitting, but then again I’m a Godless heathen. I’ll catch up on my sleep while you and the kids get saved. Should I make myself scarce when your in-laws arrive?”

Jim blinked in surprise. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t want to intrude on family time.”

“Don’t be silly.” In fact, Jim was glad Cal would be there to fill the silences since Mrs. O’Brien stayed home on Sundays.

As they walked across the sidewalk to the general store, Jim stopped in his tracks and sighed.

Cal raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

Through the window, Jim could see Rebecca Graham perusing the candy counter. “It’s Rebecca. She was Stephen O’Brien’s girl, back before the war.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The past few months, every time I see her she’s stuck to me. It’s like she thinks because Stephen and Ann are gone, it’s only natural that we pair up. I guess she doesn’t have many other prospects.”

As they entered the store, the bell above the door
dinged
and Rebecca’s pretty face lit up. “Jim! What a lovely surprise.”

“Hello, Rebecca.” It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with her—she was a perfectly pleasant woman—but she and Jim had never quite gelled. “How are you today?”

“Quite well, thank you.” Her gaze went to Cal, standing a step or two behind Jim. She reached up and smoothed her coiffed blonde hair. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Cal Cunningham.” Cal stepped forward and nodded a greeting. “An old war buddy of Jim’s.”

“How wonderful. Are you here long?” She smiled widely.

“Until the harvest at least. I’m helping out at Clover Grove.”

“That’s so kind of you. Where are you from?”

As Cal answered Rebecca’s litany of questions, Jim shifted his weight from foot to foot. He suddenly felt invisible. While he should have been glad to be free of Rebecca’s undivided attention given how uncomfortable it always made him, watching her laugh and talk with Cal made him feel…he wasn’t sure what. Jealous?

It didn’t make a lick of sense. He’d never been interested in Rebecca, so why should he care now? As Rebecca and Cal continued chatting, Jim picked up items from his grocery list and stacked them on the counter, smiling at Mrs. Abbott, who leaned in and whispered, “What a nice couple they’d make!”

With a strained smile, Jim nodded.

He was crouched by the shelf of cereal, reaching for the corn flakes, when Cal squatted down and elbowed him playfully. “Thanks a lot! What happened to no man left behind?”

“You and Rebecca apparently had a lot to talk about. I didn’t want to be in the way.” He stood and glanced around the store, seeing no sign of her.

Cal furrowed his brow. “In the way? I was just being polite.”

Jim kept his tone light. “Maybe you’ll meet the woman of your dreams here after all.” It was what he’d always wanted for Cal—why were the words so thick on his tongue?

“What?” Cal laughed. “I’m sure she’s a wonderful lady, but I told you before. I’m not interested in a wife.” He pulled the shopping list from Jim’s hand. “What do you still need to pick up?”

It was unbearably selfish to not want happiness for Rebecca and Cal, but as they finished the shopping, Jim felt strangely relieved. While Mrs. Abbott rang up his purchases, several older women entered the store. One of them exclaimed, “Jim Bennett! How are you, dear?”

“Hello, Mrs. McBride. Ladies.” Jim nodded. “I’m doing well, thank you.” He introduced Cal, who greeted the women.

One of them beamed and said to Mrs. Abbott, “What an honor to have two heroes shopping in your store.”

Mrs. Abbott nodded. “An honor indeed. Our country’s finest men.”

Jim cleared his throat. “We simply did our duty. Nothing more.” He could sense the tension in Cal next to him.

“Oh, such modesty! You’re our heroes, make no mistake,” Mrs. McBride said.

“The heroes are the men who didn’t come back.” Cal spoke a bit too loudly.

Tension filled the air as the ladies glanced at each other. “Of course,” one replied. “Well, we should be on our way. Just here to buy some wool. Do you have the new shipment, Mrs. Abbott?”

Jim quickly paid for the groceries and he and Cal made their escape. They silently loaded the paper bags into the truck and climbed in, heading back to the orchard on the county road.

Cal sighed. “God, I hate that.”

“Me too.”

“I know they mean well, but…”

“They just don’t understand,” Jim finished.

Their eyes met. “No.” Cal turned to gaze out the window. “And how could they? But some days it makes my skin crawl, being reminded of it. At least they didn’t ask what it was like. That’s the worst.”

Jim nodded.

“I mean, how can we answer that?” Cal looked to Jim, even though it was clearly a rhetorical question. “What was it like?” He faced the windshield, eyes on the horizon. “Starving and thirsty and sick as hell from every goddamn tropical disease in creation. A kind of tired you can’t imagine. Watching your friends die, one after the other, blown up and mowed down and sliced open. Knowing you’d be next. Sometimes wishing you would be, just to get it over with.”

“Cal.”

But he didn’t even seem to hear Jim as he rambled on. “Hoping that maybe when you got hit, it wouldn’t kill you, or take your leg off, but would hurt you enough to get the hell out. To get a ticket home. Then you couldn’t believe you’d think such a cowardly thing, that you’d want to leave your friends. That I’d want to leave you.” He stopped suddenly, taking a shuddering breath. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“We all felt like that.” He reached over and briefly squeezed Cal’s shoulder, keeping him at arm’s length. “It’s okay. You’re a hero to me, and don’t ever think otherwise.”

Swallowing hard, Cal nodded and turned his gaze to the fields they passed.

Jim kept his eyes on the road, both hands gripping the wheel.

After days of shooting with live rounds from dawn to dusk, Cal was certain his ears would never stop ringing again. He shouldered his Springfield rifle and eyed the target across the range, barely visible in the driving rain. When another recruit had suggested they wait to shoot for record until the weather cleared, he got such an earful that Cal wasn’t about to complain.

His pulse raced. These were the scores that would count. If they passed, they’d be Marines. If not…Cal didn’t want to think about the alternative. Sure, he’d only joined the Marines to piss off his father, but now it was a matter of pride. Damn it, he’d worked harder than he had in his entire life the last five weeks, and put up with pain and discomfort he hadn’t known existed.

He was not going to fail now.

Lying in the muck, he tried to tell himself it was all just a game—that he was back in Connecticut at Andrew Boyle’s country house, gunning for pheasants. Beside him, Jim was stoic as usual. The only time Cal had seen him really worked up was the night Jim had broken curfew to find him. The ache in Cal’s shoulders and arms as he’d kept his rifle aloft hadn’t been so bad after that. He’d even managed to smile at Tyrell when the bastard had appeared just before reveille.

The range sergeant bellowed, “All ready on the firing line!” After a pause he added, “Fire!”

The roar of their rifles exploded in the air. One target after the other, they fired from various distances. Once every recruit was finished, they lined up and waited while the scores were tabulated. It was Tyrell who approached each man and told him whether he’d passed, or perhaps even qualified as a marksman, sharpshooter or expert.

When Tyrell stopped before Cal after telling Jim that he’d passed, the bottom fell from Cal’s stomach. Tyrell looked so satisfied that Cal couldn’t possibly have succeeded. He could feel Jim’s gaze on him, but kept his eyes locked on the DI, who still said nothing. Cal wanted to scream at him to just spit it out.

Finally, Tyrell smirked. “Wouldn’t you know it, we’ve got ourselves a marksman here.”

Cal blinked. “Huh?”

At this, Tyrell actually smiled without malice. Just a small lift of his lips and flash of teeth, but a smile nonetheless. “That’s right, Cunningham. Looks like we just might have made a Marine of you after all.”

“I…thank you, sir.” For the first time, Cal actually meant it.

After another moment, Tyrell continued on down the line, his customary scowl returned. When everyone who passed remained, he addressed them. “Now don’t go getting all full of yourselves. Y’all are still the biggest bunch of screw-ups I’ve ever seen and I’ve got another week to whip you into shape!”

As they marched back to their barracks at the main base, puffed up with pride, Tyrell kept up the litany of shouts and curses, but all Cal could do was smile. Marching close together, Jim nudged his shoulder, and Cal nudged him back.