January 17, 2134
Jennings, Louisiana
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“Crazy fucking war stories.”
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“I heard he once used his knife to fight off an entire Fed Division. He kept a sharpening brick in one hand and the knife in the other, swiping the knife over the brick before slashing the throats of his enemy!”
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“You must've heard this one. He took an entire band of prisoners, and made primitive weapons from the nearby forests. He used a bow to dismantle an entire, fucking, Command Staff AND their guards.”
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“Bullshit! You ever hear when he took out three Tigers! Bare handed!”
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The war stories of Lieuteniant Valkyrie were exceptionally bold. In those stories he was brave, fearless, honorable, and respected. Yet the Lieutenant Valkyrie I knew was something different.
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I didn’t disagree with him, but I also didn’t want to agree. I was stuck in a very unfamiliar spot.
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By the fifteenth, we successfully secured all of Jennings. Six Divisions of two-hundred twenty men combined arrived. A Command Center was built on the airfield, and a working supply line connected us to Welsh. Helicopters transported troops, tanks, and artillery pieces into the city. We built a forward observation post at the school.
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All of the civilians were rounded up and escorted out of the city. It was too much of a security breach to have them roaming around the streets.
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Our next objective was to take Crowley, but Lieutenant Valkyrie ordered us to enjoy ourselves for a few days. How the hell could we enjoy ourselves in a broken city? Where the only bodies were dead. Where the air smelt of gunpowder and burning metal. Where the sky was dark with the plumes of smoke.
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I found myself in the church a lot. Not to pray, but to get away from all the noise. There was another one on the southern side of the city. I sometimes switched between the northern one and the southern one. However, the walk to both was what I liked the most.
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I was sitting at the northern church, where the blood stained the floor and walls like dried paint. Tyrese walked in, smoking a cigarette. He smiled, “came to pray?”
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I chuckled, “somethin like that.”
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“Mind if I join your… praying?”
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I tapped the wood beside me. He sat down and gave me a cigarette. I lit the cigarette with a match and asked, “you think we’re winning out west?”
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“No fucking clue. I try not to worry about that too much. A bit busy on the east side. Ya know?”
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“Yeah, I know. Tyrese, I gotta ask you something.”
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“Mate, just call me Ty. I don’t like hearing you drag my name out like that.”
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“Yeah, yeah. Look, how do you feel about the Lt?”
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“What do you mean?”
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“I saw the guy toss fucking people out a second story dude. Then he shot a bunch of prisoners into a fucking pond.”
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“Guy’s got issues.”
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“Too many issues to handle. I thought I slept bad.”
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“You don’t mess with a guy like that. He’ll hunt you down, even after he’s long been dead.”
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“You sure don’t.”
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I heard the faint flicker of a lighter. I turned around to see Lt Valkyrie standing a few feet behind us, in the aisle. He lit his cigarette with only his eyes lit by the flame. He walked towards us, “having a good time gentlemen?”
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Ty sighed, “yes Lt. Just finishing up here.”
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Ty got up to leave, but Valkyrie held his hand out, “please- sit. I need to talk.”
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Ty sat back down. Valkyrie continued, “I heard you were in Bell City Robinson?”
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He nodded, “yes- yes Lt.”
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He puffed smoke towards the ceiling, “my two sons died there. They were prisoners. Tied up to a post and shot dead for the entire town to witness. After a few days, the crows had feasted on their bodies, and the Feds let them rot away on fucking posts like damned dogs. So, I tend to make my life a lil easier, and skip out on the paperwork. For some Fed cunt to have a grand life back in our NCC? Fuck that.”
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He threw out his half finished cigarette, “Captain Marshall is arriving tomorrow with the Eastern Front High Command. They want to personally congratulate us on our win. Be ready for it.”
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He turned away and chuckled, “oh, and Rogers. I handle those issues perfectly fine. Sleep isn’t for the likes of us.”
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Ty and I went to the local pub, which didn’t have any barmaids or barmen, but a few Rangers took the liberty of being the servers. Ty and I sat at the bar and smoked another cigarette. He chuckled at something and shook his head.
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I asked, “what’s up?”
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“Funny how we take a town and throw out all the whores and bartenders. Should have kept someone around.”
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“There will be plenty of whores and bartenders in Crowley. Hopefully life isn’t too hard up there.”
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“Hopefully something gets me hard.”
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I nudged him, “I thought I did?”
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“Sometimes. Maybe if you squeeze your chest together you might.”
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After we shared a few drinks we left the bar and walked down the street to a roadblock. We chatted with the Rangers there for a while, until we saw a convoy approaching the roadblock. Ty sighed, “this must be our superiors.”
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The convoy turned into the airfield. A Ranger spit on the ground, “fucking jokes. That’s all they are. Pigs who walk on two legs.”
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Ty and I returned back to our observation post. We sat in an old classroom and watched the road from our window. The field beside the road was covered in tank carcasses and dead trucks. Confederate bodies laid out everywhere. The ones who tried to retreat were torn apart.
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I opened up a nearby math book and asked Ty, “have you ever learned math?”
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He shook his head, “no. I’ve never been to school.”
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I smirked, “school’s pointless anyways.”
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“I would have liked to gone. But, war had different plans.”
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“Indiana?”
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“Yep. My dad and mom served in the Militia. My nána had to take me out of the city. We were some of the last ones to board the evac shuttles. Never heard from my parents again.”
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“I’m sorry man.”
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“Nah. Didn’t know them enough to care, ya know? Makes it easier.”
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I chuckled, “does it?”
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“That’s what I keep telling myself, yeah.”
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Day turned to night, and nothing happened. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. I grabbed onto my wrist and squeezed it, hoping to get rid of the shakes. I got myself under control before Ty could see it.
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The door behind us opened. I heard Captain Marshall’s voice, “boys! I’ve been looking for you.”
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Captain Marshall was demoted from Colonel not long after Lake Charles fell. He said it was because of politics, and High Command needed a fall guy for Burg Hill and Creole. I personally thought Colonel Marshall did an excellent job at Creole beach. The plan didn’t count on the Confederates having a fucking fort built. Burg Hill wasn’t even coordinated by Marshall. It was coordinated by Major Frost, who was still a Major afterwards.
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I, and all of the Rangers who fought under him, still respected him as if he was still a Colonel. Rank didn’t matter to us in the field. It wasn’t about whether or not they went to school, earned it in the field, or were given it. As long as they could lead without cracking under pressure.
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Ty and I shook hands with Captain Marshall. He gave us each a hug and asked, “how have you been?”
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I told him, “dandy as always, sir.”
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Ty showed him his hand, “took a bayo to the hand, sir.”
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Marshall smiled, “I guess no masturbation for you for a while, eh?”
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Ty shoved me, knocking me off balance, “yeah that’s why I got this fucker! Sir.”
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Marshall pointed to my face, “you okay?”
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“Yes sir. It’s just a scratch.”
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He nodded, patting my shoulder, “keep it cleaned. You don’t want something like that getting infected.”
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He dipped his head at Ty, “mind if I get some time alone with Rogers?”
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Ty shook his head, “no problem, sir.”
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Ty raised his eyebrows at me and left the room. Marshall found a chair tipped over and flipped it on it’s legs. He pulled another chair in front of him and said, “sit, please.”
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I nodded, taking a seat. He sighed, “there’s no way for me to say this easily. So I’m just going to have to say it. Your mother passed away last week due to complications from cancer.”
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My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. It felt like my chest was ripped open. I couldn't express myself because I didn’t want to look weak in front of Marshall. I think he noticed it, and hugged me tightly. He pat my shoulder, “it’s going to be okay son.”
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He let go and said, “I can get you on a plane back home if you-”
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“No. No… I have to stay.”
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“Okay. Good. I would hate to lose a good Ranger like yourself. If you ever need help with it, you can come to me.”
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“I’m fine, sir.”
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“Okay, just know, you can come to me.”
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Marshall slapped my shoulder, “c'mon son. I want to see if your bench max has increased.”
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Marshall, Ty, and I walked out of the school to a gym downtown. It was an old community gym that took a missile to its front wall. We had to climb over the knocked wall in order to get into the building.
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Ty began to bench while Marshall and I watched him. It was impressive, watching a human being easily push 405 pounds like it was nothing but a feather. A second goodthing about the Stem Cells was the amount of muscle we gained, and maintained, without effort. I often went a few days without eating and woke up the next morning still looking pumped. However, I felt like shit. I could almost feel my cells destroying each other.
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Marshall asked, “how’s Tenson holding up?”
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I smiled, “he wants nothing other than to go home.”
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“Yeah. Don’t we all?”
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Ty racked the bar, “I sure as hell do. I miss coming home to a warm bed, hot food, and glorious… glorious! Beautiful breasts. Yeah?”
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I nodded, “that’s something I’d fight for.”
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Marshall smirked, “me too.”
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We left the gym and said our goodbyes to Marshall. I saw Kelly sitting near a tree and I parted ways with Ty for a bit. I walked up to her and asked, “you alright?”
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She nodded, “yeah. Just looking for somthing.”
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I nodded, “can I help?”
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“Of course. John was married and wore his wedding ring around his neck. When…”
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“I got it. Cmon.”
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We walked around and scanned the ground for the ring. Eventually, I felt my boot land over something symmetrical. I lifted my boot and saw the ring shining at me. I picked it up and showed Kelly.
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She gasped, “oh my god! Thank you, god. Thank you so much Matthew! This meant alot to Julie, I just wanted to get it back to her.”
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I chuckled, “you think he meant more?”
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“Well… he’s kind of splattered all over the ground now. I don’t know if he means as much as Marco did.”
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“Marco? Wife’s mistress here?”
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“Uh… no. Marco was our squad leader. He got killed a few weeks ago. He got us through a lot. Julie was Marco’s sister, so, ya know?”
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“Yeah, my bad. I’m glad I could help.”
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She offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. I was only going to stay for one, but she got drunk very quickly. I escorted her back to her room and helped her inside. She took off her vest and collapsed onto a couch. I chuckled, sitting by her legs and helping her take her boots off. She got up and snuggled her head into my neck. I let her do it, feeling a bit awkward. For about an hour she slept on me, and when she woke up she kissed me on the cheek. She quickly backed away, “sorry. Sorry.”
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I nodded, “yeah we shouldn’t do this.”
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The NCC was very strict on relationships between squadmates. The issue arose when women began getting drafted. To get out of the daft or end their draft early, they’d get pregnant. Of course, they would get sent home to take care of the baby while the father most likely died. Leadership recommended sleeping with civilians or yourself. But when you are a Ranger hopped on adrenaline and the constant fear of dying, yourself doesn’t work.
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She smiled, “I know. But… why did it feel so good?”
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I chuckled, “because it was illegal.”
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I kissed her once more and left her apartment and joined up with Ty who was conversing with another Ranger. As we were returning to our post, Ty asked me, “can I be honest with you brother?”
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I looked over at him, “of course.”
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“That gash kinda makes me wanna fuck you.”
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I chuckled, “I think I’m a bit out of your league man.”
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“Well mate, I’ve always been a high baller.”
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He nudged me away and handed me a cigarette. I stopped to strike my match on my boot, but before I could my hands began to shake again. Ty kept walking, not turning his back anytime soon. I grabbed onto my wrist and squeezed it until my knuckles went white. Then I knew. I had the shakes.
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Rangers returning from the front suffered from many different things. Diseases, wounds, infections, depression, trauma, but the shakes were the most common. It didn’t really happen during a battle or fighting. It always seemed to happen in the most calming moment of your day. Just out of the blue, your hand begins to shake and you can’t control it. Like a wild dog, tied to a breaking leach. If I had it, I knew it was going to lead to more severe problems down the road.
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Ty stopped, “you coming?”
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I nodded, forcing my hand to cooperate and striking the match against my boot. I caught up to him, hoping he didn’t see me. If someone reported my condition to Command, I could be sent back home to a medical rehabilitation facility. Those things were awful. Every Ranger I knew who went there, or had the threat of going, would have rather been shot dead.
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We got back to our room and stayed guard for the rest of the day. During the night, artillery from the airfield began to rain hell on Crowley. That meant we were most likely moving to it the next day. I watched in amazement as the dark night sky flashed with the bright light. I could almost hear our enemy in the back of my head. Calling out for help, asking for their dying comrade, and running for cover. Each time there was an explosion, a second explosion followed it. This went on and on, until it ended at 0600. It started back up at 0640, and the ferocity began again.
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*
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We were driving on the main highway into Crowley. Ty, Kelly, Carter, Que, and I managed to fit on the hull of an Abrams. I dangled my legs off the side, watching my shadow jump up and down the ridges of the craters.
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Our convoy consisted of seven Abrams, two brand new M3 Bradleys, four LAV-25s, an Amtrac, a Spaniel, and two L-15s.
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The Spaniel was a Mobile Defense Platform. It was heavily armored, and had two retractable plates at the front. These plates could be extended to its side, offering solid protection against small arms fire and machine guns alike. Although it provided the cover, it did not provide the offensive capability needed. It only had two 50cal HMGs and one M249.
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The L-15 on the other hand, was an incredible piece of weaponry. It was a hover tank, using jet engine-like thrusters to keep the tank off the ground. With these thrusters, it could easily pass over landmines, mudded out roads, and rivers. It also had a 225mm rail gun, which was fucking impressive as equally as it was cool. The rail gun used magnetic energy to launch a projectile at its target. It could fire a non-shaped shell, which was basically using kinetic force lethally, or a shaped explosive shell which was similar to a normal tank round. However, you could toss a pebble at the L-15 and leave a dent. Its armor was the weakest in the NCC, because it needed to be light in order to hover. We all called it the ‘Glass Cannon.’
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Our convoy rolled by a damaged car with a woman and man standing outside it. They waved at us, and I waved back. Que smacked my helmet, “hey. Eyes on those buildings.”
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I nodded, glancing down at the car and seeing two small children in the back. Their faces were full of fear and wonder at the same time. The lead Abrams turned off the main road before entering the town. Our tank, the one behind it, drove up an overpass and half way across it. The tank stopped at two MRAPs, the Forward Assault Team Valkyrie sent out. Three Rangers were leaning against the MRAPS and one Ranger on each machine gun.
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Que hopped off and asked a Ranger, “where’s the fight?”
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The Ranger shrugged his shoulders, “they’re gone. We spotted a few Feds moving down to a village South of here, but other than that.”
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Another Ranger chuckled, “must’ve heard Lieuteniant Valkyrie was coming to Crowly.”
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Que smacked his teeth, “right. Get your team to rally up any known Confederate sympathizers and put them into custody.”
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Que walked back to the tank and said, “dismount. Train stops here. Let’s start moving down this main street and do a search and recovery. Any weapons- take them.”
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Kelly, Ty, Carter, and I linked up with Savannah, Kyle, and Anton at the base of the overpass. The Abrams, followed by a Bradley and two more Abrams, drove down North Parkerson Ave.
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Cars pulled off the road and parked on the side. Kelly pulled me closer to the tank. I counted sixteen cars. At least sixteen soldiers were ready to kill me and my squadmates. But I couldn’t see them. A woman got out of her car and threw something at the lead tank. I was about to shoot her until I saw what she was throwing when she threw it again. It was a flower.
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She had glee in her eyes and happiness in her movements. I lowered my rifle, relaxing my shoulders. I took a moment to look around me. All I saw was white flags strewn up in windows and hanging off buildings. I also couldn’t figure out if it was all a trap or something sincere. I was just confused. I was so ready to have Jennings all over again. Street to street fighting would be hand to hand shaking. I just couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t. After all that fighting and death we endured just to get welcomed by a young woman in a sundress, throwing flowers. I was so used to people throwing grenades at me, not flowers.
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The buildings around us were fast-food restaurants, office supply stores, department stores, small Chinese takeouts in a shopping mall. It looked normal. Except the occasional shell crater or rubble fallen from a structure. These people weren’t going to fight us. They just wanted to live.
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Our tank stopped at the railway tracks at the end of the avenue. A train had been derailed by an explosion. The crater was about six feet deep, so it wasn’t artillery or an airstrike. Someone had dug an explosive charge underneath the rails. Ty and I looked into the crater, finding small pieces of fragmentation and makeshift parts somewhat intact.
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As we were digging around, trying to piece together what type of ordinance these guys had, an old man walked up to us. He was dressed in tan cargo pants and a dirt white shirt with suspenders. He waved, “hey boys! What’re you diggin’ around for?”
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I tossed a piece of steel out, “trying to figure out who made this train go boom. Any idea where I can meet him?”
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The old man smiled, “you a problem solver?”
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I nodded, “I’d say so.”
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“Good. Cause the same boys who did that already left. They’s went out chasing the army while they left.”
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“Okay sir. Thank you.”
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I brought this news to Lt Valkyrie, who was surprised to say the least. He didn’t believe me at first, saying it had to have been Airborne remnants or Rangers who got ahead of us. Everything he could possibly come up with just didn’t make sense. I offered my thought of a resistance being formed. Obviously, civil unrest would be high as hell. Especially after a city just got abandoned by its own Government. When the TUC invaded Louisiana, no Ranger left any civilian behind. Alive or dead, they got their people out.
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**
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It took us nearly two weeks to secure all of Crowley. We found small hideouts of Confederate soldiers, but none of whom were in fighting condition. It seemed like the Feds left anyone who couldn’t walk on their own. Most of the soldiers were severely wounded or dead by the time we got to them. We even found a high ranking officer who shot himself in an alleyway behind a dumpster.
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I was making conversation with a captured soldier who told me the TUC was issuing commands to all NCOs and COs to shoot or burn wounded soldiers they couldn't carry. He said most NCOs didn’t do it, but they were shot by the CO and their men shot afterwards.
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The citizens of Crowley were extremely helpful. We spent most of our time winning their hearts
and minds. Instead of shooting them, we drank beers together. Instead of searching and ransacking their homes, we offered to repair any damage done by our artillery. We finally had a chance to actually do good with people who cared. It felt good to see smiles and bows in bleach blonde hair. I felt normal again.
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We were scheduled to be on R&R for at least a month. Instead of moving around wasting supplies, we stayed right in Crowley. Ty and I watched a convoy of about three Divisions roll out of Crowley. Their objective was to take Rayne, a medium sized city full of residential buildings.
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Ty and I sat on the overpass railing, teasing the Rangers as they drove by in trucks. Ty shouted, “fucking pussies! Get out and walk!”
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He chuckled, “goddamn it’s good.”
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I asked, “what?”
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“Seeing other poor bastards have to go through the same shit we do.”
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I smiled, “yeah.”
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“Hey, me and Carter are going to an Opera Show tonight. If you wanna come I’d be more than happy to have you.”
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“I didn’t know Opera was your thing.”
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“Yeah. I don’t know if it is. I might like it. I might not. Don’t really know. Figured I’d broaden my horizons before I die.”
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I shook my head, “stop. You’re not going to die.”
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He glared at me in a friendly manner, “we all die someday mate. Just depends on when. My bullet could come tomorrow, or it could come back as cancer later. Ya never know. Ya know?”
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I pat his shoulder, “I’ll take you up on that Opera shit. What time?”
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“Nineteen hundred, be there at eighteen-thirty.”
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I began to leave, “I’ll see you at eighteen-thirty.”
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I walked down the avenue towards a hotel we were staying at. I pulled out a cigarette and my matches. An elderly man dropped a bag of groceries in front of me. I put my stuff away and kneeled down to help him.
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He smiled down at me, “well thank you sir. I can’t quite get down like that anymore.”
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I chuckled, putting everything back into his bag and handing it to him, “no problem sir.”
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A woman in the building said, “oh Papa, I told you to wait.”
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The man replied, “well this handsome young man here gave me a hand. Thank you again sir.”
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The woman stepped down from the porch. She was wearing a white sundress with red roses spread out on it. Her hair was ginger, and her eyes shined a brighter blue than the clearest skies. She was thin and the sundress fit perfectly around her waist and chest. Her hair was short, barely touching her shoulders. It seemed to almost float in some kind of heavenly manner.
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She waved at me and said, “thank you soldier.”
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I waved back, “it’s no problem. Have a nice day!”
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I left, her face burning in the front of my brain.
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I got to my hotel room and laid on my bed. The show wasn’t for another six hours. I had nothing to do, so I just laid there. I didn’t budge a single nerve. I just laid there for what seemed to be days. It was comfortable, the most comfortable thing I had laid on in months. Yet, I was still extremely uncomfortable. I rolled off my bed and onto the floor, which was hard and not carpeted. Yet, I was comfortable.
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I laid on the floor, watching the ceiling fan swirl back and forth, hearing the buzzing of a helicopter blade. I took a deep breath in. After I exhaled, I began to cry. I didn’t know why, I just did. I didn’t hold it back. I just let it out. After hearing someone run past my door, I crawled into the corner and sat there, crying. I held my face in my hands and poured my body weight in tears.
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While I was crying, my arms began to shake profusely, and I had no control over them. I pulled out a cigarette but threw them across the room when I noticed they were covered in blood. Flashes of the burned corpses from Creole to Jennings haunted me. Everywhere I looked I saw their skin melt away like sludge, and their cries for help crammed my ears, all while their nails scratched against a steel door, ripping off.
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I smacked my head violently, but the flashes got more frequent. I saw that poor kid I swung a shovel into. His neck squirted blood and I felt something along the lines of enjoyment. I saw the eye pull out from a Confederate soldier as I removed my shovel. I saw it all. Not from my perspective, but from a third person. I saw it as it happened, and I saw the monster that was slowly crawling out of me.
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I crawled underneath my bed and used a pillow to suffocate myself. I sat there, trying to make myself stop breathing.
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I heard a knock at my door. I rubbed my nose and wiped my tears away. I picked up my cigarettes while I was walking toward the door. I opened it to Carter, who was standing with a pizza box. He smiled, “got a pizza and movie on rent. Wanna join?”
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I nodded, “yeah give me a few minutes and I’ll join you.”
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I got presentable and walked down to Carter’s room. I knocked, and Ty answered. His face lit up with excitement, “whoa! It’s Matthew!”
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He hugged me and slapped my back hard. I hugged him back and said, “decided to come out of the cave.”
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I was very distant from my Division after Lake Charles. I didn’t want to get involved and start making friends because I thought I didn’t need too. Honestly, people like Ty and Carter were what saved me from blowing my brains out or slitting my wrist. It was always a thought of mine. I had nothing to live for, but something to die for. At least I could have an open casket funeral if my wrist were slit. I knew a lot of good Rangers, and good people, who got blown away and all that remained was just a pink mist.
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Suicide wasn’t the best option. But it was an option for me. At least if I ended it sooner, there would be a lot less noise and nightmares to forget. At least if I did it, I could go out on my own terms.
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We watched Men Of War, a movie about Private Military Companies fighting for a small city in South Africa. Each time something happened that wasn’t true to what our military would do, Carter called it out. He scoffed, “no way they’d have air support that close to a target area!”
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“How is homie shrugging off 7.62 rounds? Like- what the fuck?”
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“There’s no plate in his vest. See!”
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“Yeah an Abrams wouldn’t survive that.”
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“I wish we had those.”
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I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just jealous. I enjoyed a few slices of pizza. It wasn’t bad. It was a lot better than the MREs and nonperishables we had. Ty and I didn’t touch the beer. But Carter did. He asked us, “you guys mormon or something?”
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Ty smirked, “uh- no. We can’t get drunk.”
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A third bad thing about Stem Cells was that we couldn’t get drunk. No matter how much we drank, we just couldn’t get drunk. So there was ultimately no point in drinking.
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Once the movie finished, we made our way to the Opera House. We saw Savannah and Anton in line ahead of us. Carter chuckled, “no way.”
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Ty nodded, “no fucking way.”
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Anton was cleanly shaven, pompadour in his hair, and had a bow tie on. He was wearing a nice button up shirt with black slacks. Ty went to get his attention, but I blocked him from doing so. I told him, “let him be for now. We’ll see him later.”
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Ty smirked, “yeah I guess so.”
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Carter chuckled, “no fucking way.”
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Our seats were in the back row, and we ordered a few entrees to eat while the show went on. The singing was quite lovely. The woman had a decent, high pitch voice, while the man had a deep, almost growl like voice. I was surprised they could even propel their voices like that. It was annoying as hell, but also impressive.
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I left to go take a piss. On my way to the washroom, I spotted the woman from earlier that day. She was sitting at the bar alone, spinning her finger around the rim of her glass. I walked up beside her and asked, “can I get you another drink.”
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She blushed, “it’s you again.”
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I smiled, “yeah. It’s me again.”
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“You’re quite the stalker. Bumping into my dad just to play it off. And now… you’re here.”
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“Not quite how it went. But uh- I like your idea better, so I’m just gonna believe it. That drink?”
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“No. I’m switching to water. I have work tomorrow.”
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“Okay-” I tapped the bar to get the bartender's attention, “two waters, please.”
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She smiled, “you workout?”
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I flexed my pecs up, “yeah I lift shit sometimes.”
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She shook her head, “yeah I can tell. Do you have anywhere to be?”
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The bartender dropped off two glasses of water and took her drink. She asked again, “do you have somewhere to be?”
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My heart began to race, but I remained confident in my posture, “no. Show’s not that good.”
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She chuckled, “yeah. This show isn’t too good.”
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She drank her water and said, “my place or yours?”
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“Depends on what you want.”
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“Well, dumbass, I’m three drinks deep and I want to get fucked. If that’s not what you want, let me know.”
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I chuckled, “very open?”
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“Very drunk.”
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“Okay. Your place?”
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“Yeah. Good with me.”
ns 15.158.61.4da2
