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“Shut the fuck up, man. It’s not funny,” I respond as my lips quirk with humor.
“Oh, the hell it isn’t. I never thought I’d see the day Travis Jackson would not only hand his nuts over to a girl, but also go without his most prized beer.”
I shake my head at him and take another swig. “I’d give up more than just beer for this one; I’d take a bullet for her. I believe she’s the one, Stryker.”
He looks at me in contemplative thought as the light from the TV flickers against his face. “I never thought I’d see you like this again.” He motions between Jules and me with the bottle in his hand. “It’s as if you’ve found your purpose for living again. It’s good to see you happy.”
“She sure has been a trooper. Not many women would brave through the unknown like she has, you know,” I say proudly, tilting my head to look down at my sleeping angel. Her lithe body is spread out between us, her feet on Stryker’s lap and her head on mine. Love and adoration seeps out from every pore of my body for this strong woman. She’s been through so much.
“Have you told her yet…that you love her?” Stryker inquires.
I give a slight shake of my head as my lips thin into a hard line and I look toward the movie in frustration. “I can’t.”
“Man, I have to say I disagree with your plan. There is a huge fallacy in your reasoning, if all you’re going to do is take things as they come,” he quietly warns, being careful not to wake Jules. “I think you really need to come clean with her now, before her memory returns.”
I take another sip of beer and sigh heavily. “You don’t understand the ramifications of what could happen to her or me for that matter, if she gets back in Nick’s hands.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you telling her why she’s here with you, how you burned all your bridges for her, all because you love her.”
I mindlessly play with a lock of her hair while I remind Stryker of all the reasons why it’s a bad idea to clue her in at this point in the game. As many lies as I’ve spewed, when she does regain her memory, I don’t want her to pile my profession of love on top of the heap of lies. When I do tell her, I don’t ever want her to look back and question it. I want her memory back in full force when I confess, and I want it to be special.
When she does remember, she’ll have to recall how I’ve loved her with my actions, not words. In my book, deeds and behavior always speak louder than words anyway. All the things I’ve done for her has to account for something, granting me some reciprocity.
Stryker lets out a half-laugh, garnering my attention, and mumbles while shaking his head in protest. “Not this damn movie again, T. How many times have you seen this one anyway?”
“Not near enough. It’s a classic; it never gets old.”
“If you say so.”
Stryker leans down, extending his hand to the floor, and reaches for his second beer. I watch as he screws off the metal cap and begins rolling it between his fingers. “Hey, Strike, thanks again for everything. I couldn’t have gotten this far in the game without you.”
His eyes stay fixated on the movie as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. When he finishes his swallow, he turns his head toward me and cocks his head to the side. “No need to thank me, we’ve been in worse situations. You’d do it for me, right?”
“Without hesitation.”
We continue to talk low over the volume of the movie for a while, letting Jules sleep uninterrupted. We talk some about the past, but mostly we go over our current plans of defense, and discussed new strategic formulations for the immediate future. I really don’t want to bring any shit down on Stryker and the rest of the group, but they insist. It’s been our motto to always be there for each other through thick and thin.
There’s so much weighing on my shoulders right now, and the least of which is Jules’ memory returning. I’ve always had a sixth sense when it comes to being able to smell trouble brewing on the horizon, and right now, it’s rank. Every time I get this eerie feeling, it’s wound up saving all our lives many a time. So for now, I’ve got the rest of my comrades backing me up.
The next morning, Stryker and I get up early to go over more detailed plans and begin finalizing some of the new ideas we came up with last night. As we talk over coffee and doughnuts, we sit back and relax on the sofa. I hear Jules singing some rock tune out of key as she makes her way from the bedroom and down the hall. I grin to myself; I don’t believe she’s ever woken up in a foul mood. She rounds the corner and spies us, and gives Stryker a welcoming smile. “Oh, hey, Stryker! When did you get here?
