The Soldier Next Door

I have just established that Ana has had yet another secret from me. As far as the secrets go between us, I can honestly say that this is a big one. Yes, me hiding that I was disabled can count as unforgivable. But having a seemingly innocent man sort of propose to you and then on top of that you are expecting a child, well that is kind of a bigger deal.

I am all the way here in Fallujah; there is no way I can protect her, that being said, if she wishes to be protected at all. The biggest question here is, why has she not thrown this man out or, even worse, accepted my offer to get him removed. Does she still have feelings for Mark? He is her real husband, after all.

Now, where does that leave me? A man that clearly looks like the cheating kind. Never once have I been unfaithful, and right now, I look like a man that is messing with a married woman. And let us not forget the fact that we are having a child together.

With that, a whole new bunch of questions does come to mind. If she chooses, for some unknown reason, to go back to Mark, what happens with my child? Will she take him away from me? Will I ever see him? Yes, I still firmly believe that it is a boy.

I am feeling somewhat bad for telling her to grow up; the thing is that she drives me insane sometimes. Ana is if you want to think about it this way, but she five years older than me, but she seriously does not seem to act that way. I know it is such a horrible thing to say. Not like I am saying that at the age of twenty-six, I am far more mature than her.

Yes, I do understand that she must be scared; it must be a horrible thing to think for one minute that your husband is dead, then the next he is completely alive. And now she is stepping into the unknown of being pregnant. So perhaps I might have been a bit harsh. The ultimate thing, though, is that she keeps on hurting me, whether it is intentional or not, that I do not know.

So where to from here? How do I pick up the pieces again? I honestly do not know. The way I truly feel now is, like I said, the best dad I can ever be. If this means that we need to be apart, then that is, unfortunately, the way it will have to be. It scares me shitless to think that she will pick Mark over me.

But right now, I do not know how to deal with this, and it is in times like these that I wish that Ray was here. Now I am the Lieutenant, how do I go to a simple Marine and ask advice. How weak will this not show that I am? Though I know that there is always Gibbs and Lewis that will not look down on me for being weak.

And it is the very Lewis that I find, as per usual, cracking a joke to relieve the tension in camp. So as I walk up at him while he is telling some blonde joke, he immediately rises and addresses me.

“Lieutenant, Sir. Please excuse my silliness; I thought the boys could do with some smiles on their faces.”

“Lewis, I think they are laughing because it is such a bad joke, and they merely want to be polite.”

“Sir, I don’t know if you have heard Williams’s jokes; I must honestly say my lame ass one beats him by far.”

“You are such a dumb ass. Now walk with me; there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sir, you already sound like Ray.”

My entire old squad topples over in laughter; this is what I live for. This is what I am good at, and if I can be as good as this, I can be even better as a father. I honestly and quite hurtfully want to say that I do think that I can have her in my head now. But still, I want her to be safe.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

So what do I do? I phone the military police at Pendleton to have Mark arrested. I think that she might just be extremely mad at me. But all things aside, I need to send my old squad out, and I will be going out with them. My head needs to be clear. I do not know whom they were fooling when they think they can keep me in a tent away from danger. As I said, I need to assess the situation out there.

…Ana POV…

Mark is refusing to leave, and I can truly say that the moment Ethan told him that I am pregnant, the anger just flared up in his head. There was this wild look in his eyes, a wild look that I have seen before so many times. And a wildness that is going to erupt any minute now.

For so many times now, I ask him the same question, “Mark, why are you really here?”

“Coming to take home what is mine.”

“I am not yours.”

“Oh yes, you are. Now get your shit; we are going home.”

“My home is here.”

He erupts into a burst of uncontrollable laughter, a laughter to mocks and taunts me, “With your half of a Marine? Don’t be fucking stupid. How long have you been shacking up with the poor asshole.”

“It is none of your business.”

“It is my business when you belong to me,” he says while the anger is starting to burn white-hot in his eyes. “Don’t worry; I will give you a good scrub down when we get home. And then you are going to pay for fucking around on me.”

“I am not yours, asshole.”

With that, Mark steps forward and crashes the flat of his hand into my face. My head snaps to the right, and I can feel as my lip splits open, there is the distinct taste of blood that touches the tip of my tongue.

In an absolute fit of rage, he takes one step back and snaps at me, “See what you made me do you.”

There is a trembling fear that consumes my body. No one knows about Mark; no one would even think for one second that I am in danger. So I reach into my pocket and press dial; I know the last number that I dialed in my phone is Ethan.

As I stand and pray that Ethan will answer my call, Mark pulls me by my arm towards my bedroom, “I said go fetch your shit. And change, you look like a whore.”

“You are a fucking whore.”

And I should not have said that; he grabs me by my hair and slams my face into the wall. The impact is so hard; I can almost say that he might have just cut my brow open. The pain hits hard, and it feels like my body shudders.

“Let me go, you fucking asshole!” I scream as loud as I possibly can, hoping that someone would hear me, but not no avail. Helicopters are flying overhead; the chances of being heard are slim to nothing.

“Have you not learned your lesson yet? You only speak when you are spoken to.”

“You are going to regret ever touching me,” I try to sound confident that by now Ethan has picked up the phone and that he will get help to me.

“What is your boy toy going to do?” Mark asks. “He is not even here.”

“You know what, Mark, the best thing I ever did was getting as was away from you as possible.”

He breaks down in godawful laughter that sends a chill to my bone, “You are still mine bitch.”

“Fuck you.”

Mark grabs me by my shirt and punches me in my face. He lifts his hand to punch me again, but someone grabs his hand.

“Get your filthy hands off her.”

He spins around and looks at me in somewhat amusement, “Oh, look, you are fucking an old man as well now.”

“Call her a whore one more time and see what happens.” I watch in absolute shock as John overpowers Mark.

When John looks over at me, he sees what Mark has done to my face. He does not hesitate; he smashes his fist into Marks’s jaw, you can hear something crack. He pulls back and connects his fist with Marks’s cheekbone. The next punch breaks Mark’s nose. John retracts once more, and I somehow know that he is not going to stop until Mark is lying on the floor.

“John, please stop; he is not worth it.”

“Ana, the fucking asshole hit you.”

“Ah,” Mark starts to speak once again, not knowing who John is at all. “Isn’t this sweet? You are cheating on your boy toy as well.”

John elbows Mark in his face, and his nose starts bleeding. Just then, the Pendleton police step in and slam a pair of handcuffs on Mark’s wrists.

“Nice going whore, you fucking bitch.”

With that, John hits Mark with a perfect under, and he falls to a sack of shit to the floor.

Then my phone starts to vibrate frantically in my pocket. It is Ethan, I know he might be mad at me still, but right now, I am so damn happy to see his name pop up on my screen. Pushing the tears back as best as possible, I answer; he does not even give me a minute to speak.

“Fuck boo, I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I am, thanks to your dad. The old man can throw a mean punch.”

I hear his sweet laughter come through the phone as relief sets over his body. He takes a deep breath, and a serious tone sets into his voice.

“Please let us never fight again.”