Page 82 of Dirty

I waste hours each day lifting weights and exercising to attempt to perfect a body that I see as nothing more than disgusting fat.

I’ve lived a lifetime incapable of committing to women because I fear that any relationship I might attempt to play a part of will certainly crumble due to my inability to be a man worthy of my spouse.

I fear the commitment of a relationship due to the undeniable failure that is sure to follow. As a result, I believe I have caused damage to the woman I am growing to love, Alexandra.

I’ve fought so many other men that I am incapable of counting them, all in hopes of convincing myself that I was superior, better, more worthy, and more capable as a fighter – and as a man.

I’m sure all the things I have done as a result of my lack of self-esteem are miniscule in comparison to other things I’ve done under your watch, but I only ask that you take time to consider fixing these things within me, Lord, as the others aren’t able to be fixed, only forgiven.

There are rules that you have commanded that man make no effort to break, yet I broke them willingly, and wantonly, and I will break them again if given an opportunity.

You know, as I know, that each and every commandment that I have broken, I have broken with the belief that in doing so rids this earth of someone far worse than me.

As this day – and my life – come to a close, I ask that you consider the men who are destined to return, Lord.

If my fate is to die at their hands, allow me to die with dignity.

After I pass, I ask that you please consider Alexandra, my mother, my sister, and the fellas.

Please allow Alexandra to come to an understanding of how I truly feel about her. I further ask that you watch over her as she proceeds through life, providing her with a man who will care for her, admire her, and touch her with hands that are kind, caring, and compassionate.

I ask these things in your gracious name.

Amen.

I thought of Alexandra, and of living what little life I had left without seeing her. My thoughts soon migrated to her, and of her living a life without someone as willing to care for her as I was.

And I began to weep.

TWENTY-SIX

Pee Bee

We’d met with the President and SAA of every club we were friendly with, and in no time we’d found out where Calle 18’s new dope house was. According to those who were in the know, going in wasn’t going to be an easy task.

Following the ‘robbery’ of the last dope house, rumor was that there were a dozen men armed with machine guns guarding the new location. The information left us no alternative but to go in at night, and as heavily armed as we could be.

After leaving Alexandra with Tegan and Peyton, we took a ride to Coronado Island, and were at Mc P’s Irish Pub, a known Navy SEAL hangout.

“Look what the cat dragged in. One Shot! Hell, I thought you’d been buried at sea,” the bartender shouted.

“Grab me a couple Bud’s?” Crip asked.

“You got it, One Shot.”

One Shot?

The bartender, who was apparently an old friend of Crip’s from his Navy SEAL days, handed us two beers and then grinned.

He was tall and wore a thick beard and had curly hair. His shirt clung tight to his chest, and he had forearms that were as big as my biceps. Tattooed across his bicep was the same SEAL Trident that Crip had on his upper arm.

“Pleasure trip to your old stomping grounds?” the bartender asked.

The Navy Amphibious Base where the Navy SEALS were trained was two minutes from where we were, but going there wasn’t our objective – or at least I didn’t think so.

“Business,” Crip said.

The bartender arched an eyebrow.