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Randall let go of his wrist and grinned. He slid a chair over from an empty table, and that’s when I noticed something: Holden was grinning too.

“I’m disappointed,” he coughed, as he sat down. “You could’ve at least picked a spot where you’d have your backs to the wall…”

Forty-Four

MARCUS

I found that my spine usually stopped hurting after the third hour, when the numbness set in. It wasn’t something I’d had to deal with when I was still active. I’d had much longer stints behind the scope of the M107, on harder ground than this. Then again, I’d been six or eight years younger. Maybe nine.

Father Time could really kick the shit out of you.

Mentally I was distracted as well. I was still focused, my eye still trained for the slightest hint of movement in the abbey’s courtyard below. But my brain kept tapping me on the shoulder. No matter what I tried, it kept bringing my thoughts back to her.

Andrea.

She no longer resembled Haley to me. Physically sure, but now she had her own traits, her own distinct personality that made her unique in my mind’s eye. It was in the way she walked, the way she laughed. They way she touched me.

The way she kissed...

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I should’ve been bothered by the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her, because the obsession would eventually bring on the usual pain.

Only this time the pain didn’t come. The more I thought about Andrea, the happier it made me. And the more I was with her…

I should’ve been bothered by the other stuff too. About having to share her — with a couple of Navy guys no less! But these weren’t ordinary sailors, and these weren’t ordinary guys. They were like brothers, the two of them. And to me, over time, they’d become brothers-in-arms.

Maybe it was because the four of us had bonded over something so unique, but I really liked Holden and Randall. Each man had his own quirks and idiosyncrasies, but after years of bunking shoulder-to-shoulder with personalities like theirs, you tended to adapt. It rounded your sharper edges.

And besides, we shared something else unique. Something I’d never shared with any of them men I’d ever bunked with: a girl.

That should’ve bothered me too, come to think of it. But the more I ran it through my mind, the more I realized I wasn’t even jealous. Yes, I cared for this girl. Yes, I had feelings for her. And my feelings were probably way deeper than I ever wanted to admit.

But for some reason… with Holden and Randall? I saw them more as brothers than as competition. We’d all been with her. Somehow it’d even happened simultaneously! But even that was strangely comfortable. Casual.

And yes, sizzling fucking hot.

That part was probably the weirdest for me: how much I’d actually liked it. How much I’d loved pleasuring this girl together, all three of us. We’d brought her to all new heights of sexual ecstasy and gratification. Places only a girl surrounded by lovers could go.

But it was hot. Her facial expressions, her moans and screams and cries. The way her body rocked back and forth as we took her from either side. The look of nirvana-like delirium in her eyes as we took turns screwing her brains out…

I spent most of my time wondering what would happen afterward. What life might be like for us once things returned to normal. Not one of us had seen ‘normal’ for months and years now. Normal hadn’t been in our vocabulary since—

Movement.

An icy chill shot up my spine as three men entered the courtyard. I ordered my body to relax. Forced my breathing rhythm to go slow and deep…

It could be nothing, of course. The men could been gardeners for all I knew. Over the past weeks we’d seen all kinds of sporadic activity at the abbey. Enough to let us know he was there, but no sign of—

And then suddenly… there he was.

Kyrkos was shirtless and yawning and fresh from sleep as he stepped cautiously out into courtyard’s shadows. It was just minutes until dawn. He was wearing some sort of a long robe. Holding something snug against one shoulder…

His cat.

Ah, yes — that damned cat. Now I remembered.

Memories came flooding back. Recollections of the few times I was actually in the man’s presence, either to be chastised for something or to be praised for a job well done. It was always the extremes, with Kyrkos. For every other aspect of my tenure with Indigo, I’d dealt only with men like Galleti.