1
JAXON
The wind whips through my hair with the windows of the old pickup truck down as Kyle turns down the winding county road off the main highway toward Beaufort, my home town. But I'm anything but relaxed this afternoon. The closer we get, the less I say. Going home never engenders feelings of relaxation or calm.
"Lighten up, douche," Kyle jokes, shoving my shoulder hard. He's the closest thing to a best friend I've had in eight years, second only to a woman I haven't spoken to since I checked into basic training.
"Fuck you," I grumble, but I'm smiling.
"Look, at least you have a place to call home…" His joking isn't all in good fun. His home burned to the ground while we were on deployment, though his sister will put him up in Raleigh for a while. But I have a place to go—a place that was once my home, no matter how many years ago it was or what things in life have changed.
"You're right," I say, nodding, watching Beaufort slowly bloom to life on the horizon.
When Kyle offered the ride, I couldn't pass it up. I left home at twenty-two with one goal—stay the hell away from my dad and the family business. I took the shirt on my back and a picture of Emily Carter, but even that got lost along the way somewhere. Now, returning to town, I wasn't sure what to expect.
"I can't believe you cut out, man. I thought you'd be a lifer…" Kyle is on leave for a few weeks, then he heads back to the ship docked in Camp Lejeune, while I have finished my tour and submitted my discharge paperwork.
"I want a real life, man. You know I can't shack up with any of those wooks." I laugh and run a hand through my hair as Kyle scowls. He's by the book, and the insult toward female Marines seems to prickle his skin.
He sighs, turning down the radio and pulling into town. "Well, I hope you find what you're looking for. You can still change your mind. Active reserves are a thing."
"Right there," I tell him, pointing at Rum Shack, the little bar that serves the town. Not much has changed, except that the sign hangs at an angle like someone tried to fix a loose chain and didn't get it quite equal to the other. "This is fine."
Kyle's truck pulls to a stop and he puts it in park but doesn't kill the engine. He still has a three-hour trip home, which I don't envy him at all.
"It's not gonna be the same without you, Sarg." He reaches a hand toward me, and I take it, giving him a firm grip.
"You'll find your way. Just remember, you owe me." Winking, I slide out of his truck and grab my duffel from the bed, slinging it over my shoulder as I step back and shut the door. It feels odd being back in town but even more strange saying goodbye to a face I've seen every day the past eight years.
"Yeah, just look me up if you need anything…" Kyle puts the truck in reverse and honks the horn as he backs out.
I stand there watching him drive away, leaving a trail of dust behind him. Eight years of my life and I'm ending up back in the same small town I swore I'd never stay put in. I turn and peer up at the bar sign and sigh.
To me, this is a temporary stop. I have to get my shit together, file some paperwork with the VA to get my benefits assigned, and save up a little cash to relocate. Beaufort was my home as a child, but my heart already doesn't feel settled here. Too many bad memories and too many years away stain the fabric of what once was. I just have to keep my head down and do what I have to do for a while.
The bar's dark as I walk in hefting my only possessions. I'm not sure what to expect as I squint my eyes and let them adjust to the dimmer light. The place is nearly empty, though there are a handful of men seated on stools next to the bar staring up at the big screen mounted over the shelves of whiskey bottles.
A woman with fair hair and a warm smile greets me as I slide onto a stool and drop my bag at my feet. I've never seen her before, though a lot has probably changed in this town since I left. And the men to my right have grumpy expressions—a few of them bordering on hateful—as they gawk at me.
"Well if it isn't Jaxon Cole," a man with dark hair and darker eyes grumbles. I recognize him easily. Alan Chase graduated a few years ahead of me and likes to cause trouble.
"Alan," I say, avoiding eye contact as the bartender steps up to me, sliding a coaster across the bar.
"What can I get for ya?" Those pearly whites are perfectly straight, offset by plump pink lips and dimples. But if I were ever to hook up with a woman in this town again, it wouldn’t be her. I may be a sex-starved Marine, but I'm not the sort to play the field. Not before I left, and certainly not now.
"I'll take a beer… Something bottled, whatever’s cheap." I pull my wallet out and take out a few bills, dropping them on the counter, and the act of bending to put it back causes my dog tags to hang free of my shirt, which she picks up on right away.
"A serviceman?" she says, smiling. "Your money's no good here. This one's on the house." Her flirty wink must piss Alan off. He grumbles a few choice words, and the woman rolls her eyes as she walks away.
"What the hell are you doing back in town for, anyway? Thought you hated this place."
Alan isn't wrong. I never thought I'd come back here after Mom died, but where else was I going to go? Besides, it’s about time I see my old man and try to make things right. I've seen one too many good Marines die without assuring their parents or loved ones were taken care of. I may not have a lot to my name right now, having sent most of it home to care for them all these years, but I know my pension can be shared with them if I pass. It's something, at least.
"Never thought I'd see your ugly face again either, huh?" I accept the beer from the friendly lady bartender, but now her cheeks are tinged pink and she avoids eye contact. I forgot. Civilians don't talk to each other so gruffly, and that's gonna be a hard habit to break.
"You wanna say that again, boy?" Alan slides off his stool, scowling at me as I pick up the beer and take a swig.
Ten minutes in town and I've already got someone posturing at me. I didn't figure it would be a parade celebration for my homecoming, but I had hoped for something a bit warmer than this.
