The Traject Ch. 03

"Chris," I said, "why don't you ask me about my past?"

"Its your eyes," she said in a very serious tone, "I see everything I need to know in them. They're broken, they're shattered, those are eyes that have seen too much." She looked at me, "every time I look at you, every time I look into your eyes, there is this deep sadness in them and every time I look at them it breaks my heart. I couldn't possibly imagine what you have seen, let alone what you have done. You're a dangerous man, D, but you're not dangerous to me."

"What does that mean?"

"At the store today, that was the first time I have ever been there, I have always been scared to go in there because of the neighborhood where its at. But with you, I was safe, even with all those men in the store, I knew I was safe. No one dared to look at me." She swallowed her drink before continuing, "I'm really happy you asked me to dinner."

"I'm happy you accepted," I replied as I lowered my head and kissed her deeply, this time. I wanted to taste her essence, her breath, her tongue, her lips. She gladly returned it, with even more passion than what I was giving her, I almost thought this was impossible. Before things could progress further, Christina broke the kiss.

"I have to work tomorrow," she said, "I have to go home."

"Ok," I replied as I kissed her, "would you like to come over tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes," she replied, "I would love to, I'll bring dessert." She finished her drink and again I walked her out, this time though, I walked her to her door. Again, we exchanged a good night kiss and I made my way back to my apartment. "Check your phone," she said, "I am sure you have plenty of voicemails to listen to, have fun with that."

I had 20 voicemails, all from different people, all with highly important sounding titles, all with some desperate need for me to call back. I was not planning to call back. As soon as I erased the last voicemail, I shut my phone down again. I thought about calling back the following morning, but as soon as I saw Christina, that thought disappeared from my mind.

"Hi," she said as she was closing her apartment ready for another day at work.

"Hi," I replied, I grabbed her in a hug and wrapped my arms around her, after kissing her softly, I said, "have a great day at work."

"I don't want to go now," she smiled as she kissed me again, "why do you have to be so great?!"

"Go work," I kissed her one more time, "I'll see you this evening."

At noon I made the mistake of turning on my phone, the sheer number of voicemails was truly outstanding, but I did not listen to a single one of them, I was serious about letting them sweat. I thought about calling a lawyer to see about my options but there really was no ill will in my mind about this situation. I was just laughing about it as I just my phone off once more.

That evening, Christina knocked on my door once before walking in, in her hands was a large bowl with sliced pieces of fruit. "It smells wonderful," she said as she placed the bowl in the kitchen table and gave me a soft kiss. It was strange, we had been together for three days but it seemed like we had lived together all our lives, it was a great situation, the familiarity of it all was comforting. She let out a long sigh, "what's for dinner?"

"Is that all I am to you," I made sure the sarcasm was as thick as possible, "just a dinner source? How about asking me about my day? I slaved all day in this kitchen to make sure you come home to a warm plate of food and you couldn't care less about my day." I was chopping onions and the tears were caused by the chemicals, Christina did not miss a single beat.

"I am just walking into this house, can I get a minute to relax before you start in on me," she moved to my fridge and reached for a beer, "all day its one thing or another, I should have some gosh darn peace in my own home." We started laughing immediately, she kissed me one more time after offering me a drink from her beer which I gladly took. "Did you listen to the voicemails?"

"I did," I moved the chopped onions and put them into the skillet with the olive oil and the chives that were already in there. The aroma of the onions and the hiss of them being seared made Christina draw in a breath, "they were all much the same." I used a wooden spoon to gently move the onions around in the oil, "how did it go in your end?"

"I heard at least three lawyers come in and out of the office, each one angrier than the last one. But all of them looking for you, trying to get a hold of you, and each coming up with an idea on just how badly to fuck over Sergeant Bell. Pretty sure she's about to become either Ms. Bell or Private Bell, it really depends on which lawyer sees her file." She smiled at me, "are you going to come back at all, or are you going to let them sweat it out more before you get a lawyer?"

"No," I said, "I am not going to get a lawyer, there really is no case if you look at it, but she did need to be moved from that position. She was a toxic leader," I reached into the fridge and moved the two steaks into the counter, "but I don't know about going back there to be honest. I still have some time to think about it, I'm not in a hurry." I grabbed the remaining part of her beer and began to pour it on the steaks, then I reached into the spice cabinet and grabbed a few containers.

"I was still drinking that," Christina said as I threw the empty bottle into the trash.

"Look in that bucket behind you," I said, "on the floor." She gingerly walked toward the bucket and opened it, there was a large pitcher buried in the ice, I had made some mimosas so that she could drink while I cooked.

"How did you know I love mimosas?" She pulled the pitcher out, the glass was frosty.

"I have yet to meet a woman that does not," I replied, "my friend Rebecca and her wife loved that particular blend, and its guaranteed to not cause hangovers." When she heard me clarify about Rebecca she became visibly relaxed, I would avoid going too much into detail about the truth in our relationship. How do you explain that two lesbians are each carrying your child?

I knew if I stayed there I would be destroying a marriage, maybe things would've worked out between our unconventional relationship, Martha and Rebecca were discussing becoming a more permanent threesome, but that was something that I couldn't do. Maybe we could have worked out, but I knew for certain that they would work out together as a couple. There was no room for me in their lives, regardless of how much all three of us wanted it.

"This is just orange juice," she said as she took a drink from a glass that was filled with the liquid.

I laughed, "no, there is an entire bottle of champagne in there," I pointed at the garbage can so that she could see the empty bottle I had thrown out earlier in the day, "I told you it was a secret recipe. What do you think?"

"This is freaking delicious," she took another drink, this one longer than the first, "do you want me to pour you a glass?"

"No, thank you," I replied as I began to pour the spices into the steaks, "I'm actually not a fan. I'll drink them every now and again but for the most part I tend to avoid champagne."

"Your loss," she sheepishly replied as she took another drink, "are you trying to get me drunk?"

I moved to her and leaned down to kiss her, she used her empty hand to pull me down to her while she rubbed the back of my shaven head. "I don't think I need to get you drunk, do I?"

"No," she said, "but I do need some time. I don't make a habit of jumping into a man's bed just because he can cook, make drinks, and dampen my panties with just a kiss." She blushed when she realized what she had said, I just laughed and went back to the steaks.

"So," I wanted to get her to talk more, "I take it you haven't told the people down at your office that you know where I live?"

"No," she replied, "if I did, they would just try to get me to bring you in or they would use me to try to get you to answer the phone. Besides, its far funnier to watch them squirm about this situation, talking about how you just disappeared from the face of the earth while I sit in my desk and think about how we just had dinner or how you had kissed me goodbye on my way to work and how..." She blushed again as she realized that she was going on about what was on her mind, again I laughed.

"You're so damned cute," I said, "you know that?"

"Thank you," she again blushed, "you know I really like you, I feel like I am back in high school feeling butterflies in my tummy. You're a really good guy, and I think I am ready to ask you about your past."

"Ok, ask me anything."

"I ran your background check when you were initially hired, so I know you were a contractor and that you were in the military," she took a drink to steady her nerves, "but there was something in your records that prevented more than the basic information from being displayed."

"I was in a special operations unit," I replied while I carefully moved the onions and set the steaks on top. As I moved the onions to create a bed for the steaks, the dripping beer made a hissing noise as it touched the oil. "A lot of the operations that I took part in are still classified because of the intelligence we collected. Same thing with my time as a contractor, a lot of that mainly because of the equipment and because companies are really funny about the whole 'corporate secrecy' thing."

"Ah that makes sense," she said, "why did you get out of the military? It clearly wasn't the deployments, was it the money?"

"I got out because my wife pushed the situation," I replied.

"You're married?!" She almost chocked on the drink as she said that.

"No," I replied, "sorry I should have said my wife at the time. Ann got pregnant while I was deployed, it was hard. I get it, she was lonely and I was not the best person to be around at the time, the constant deployments and all the things we had to do over there drove a pretty big wedge in our relationship. I got out hoping to start closing that wedge, that's when I found out about the pregnancy and the cheating. By that time it was too late to cancel on the discharge orders, and just then I ran into an old friend who offered me a position with a security firm."

She let out a long, drawn out breath, "where is she now?"

"Ann? I don't know, haven't spoken to her in years." I grabbed a smaller skillet and coated it with butter, while it melted I chopped some mushrooms and tomatoes.

"So you're divorced?"

"Yes," I said as I put the ingredients into the smaller skillet, "is that a problem?"

"No, just making sure," she smiled, "what did you do in the military?"

"I am a trained Medic," I replied as I stirred the ingredients, "but I was a jack of all trades, served mainly with sniper teams and small teams."

"So, you killed people?" I nearly burned myself after she asked that question, this was one of the worse things that you could ask any person that had served in the military. It was even worse if they had, not because the question reminded them of what they had done but because of the immediate follow up question.

"Yes," I replied, "almost as many as those that I saved."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to get you to remember those things." There it was, the implication I had just mentioned.

"You don't forget," I replied, "it stays with you for a long time. You don't get used to it, but eventually you learn to live with it, with that stain in your soul."

"How long did it take?"

"I'll let you know," I replied with a laugh, this conversation was turning into an area that I did not want to continue, she understood it almost immediately and changed the topic of conversation.

"Where did you learn to cook? Did your mother teach you?"

"No, she did not," another touchy subject, now I understood why so many people said I was broken, "I just picked it up one day, I'm not a fan of fast food so I just learned to make things to my tastes. If I see something that I like, I try to make it but I always end up making a few changes to it for my enjoyment."

"Why did you decide to leave the contractor job?"

"I got blown up," I replied in a joking manner, "spent a few months in the hospital and rehab before I was back to normal. Well at least as normal as I can be."

"You got blown up? You say it like it was something like 'oh I bought a tv,' or something unimportant."

"Well, I've had closer calls than that one," I replied.

"What?! How many?!"

"How many close calls?"

"Yes!" She was leaning forward as if she were watching an intense movie, in complete anticipation of my answer.

"Um," I stood silently trying to recall all the times, "9 or 10, maybe more I think."

"Seriously?!" She stood up in shock at the figure, "10 close calls, maybe more?! Like what?"

"Well you know about the blow up, had a building fall on me, parachute collapsed, shot, IEDs," I finished pulling all the ingredients together as the steaks were nearly done, "you know, normal hazards of the profession."

"None of that is normal," she said as she moved to the table and opened her fruit tray, "you have seriously lived a long life, D."

"Yeah, something like that," I opened the oven and pulled out the baked potatoes that had been cooking, "so I came here looking for an easy 9 to 5 job, draw a paycheck, and relax." The rest of the evening we just made more small talk, I learned more about her life. She wanted to be a teacher but when she neared completing her degree she saw the high turn around rate for teachers, and the easiest degree to transition for her would be human resources.

"I normally wouldn't eat onions," she said, "but I can't get enough of these. And the mushrooms, they're freaking delicious, it's like they're crunchy and soft at the same time. The steak, oh my, I always thought that it was the women that had to get to the men through their stomach."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," I laughed, "its nice having you around."

"Are you thinking that you were going to scare me away?"

"Honestly, yes."

"I come from a tough background, mister," she held her hands in fists making a mock fighter stance, "I can handle my own. I am a big girl."

"A big girl that is concerned about jumping into bed with a guy that can cook and dampen panties with a kiss," I said as I leaned and kissed her.

"I've also been burned in the past," she said, "so I keep my defenses up. I was married once too, remember. That was 3 years ago, I dated a few guys since, most of them were just after getting me in bed. When I made it clear that it would take some work to get into my pants, then they disappear."

"Then I came along," I said.

"Yes," she replied, "you are still here. You and I, it feels natural, normal, like we have been together for years instead of days. You scare me because you don't pressure me to jump into bed with you, yet at the same time I can't wait to share your bed. But I am scared, D, scared that you are not real."

"Well, Chris," I replied as I kissed her, "we got time. I'm not about to rush you into doing anything, this, whatever it is that we have going on, is more than enough for now." I kissed her again, "we'll get there." She hugged me and kissed me once more before returning to her meal and devouring it like a starving maniac. The rest of the evening was as pleasant as the others had been, and when the time came for Chris to leave, you could see the hesitation in her eyes.

"I don't want to go," she would say, "can we stay up a little longer?"

"You have to go to work, Chris," I told her as I walked her to her apartment, "we'll hang out then."

"You promise," she slurred, the mimosas were still going through her head, "that we'll hang out and have another date?"

"Yes," I opened her door, "now go to bed, I'll see you in the morning." I kissed her and made my way to my own apartment, the tightness in my pants was noticeable and growing in discomfort, thanks to Rebecca and Martha I would have enough material to reduce my need for porn if I ever felt the need to manually release the buildup in pressure within my testes. If there was ever a time for that, it would have to be now, I sighed as I locked my apartment door, cleaned up from the dinner, and made my way to the privacy of the bedroom and into a mentally fabricated bliss.

"Good morning," I said as Chris came out of her apartment as she headed to work, "have a good day, I have a suspicion that it'll be very eventful."

"Good morning," she replied, "you were right, no hangover." She kissed me, "what are you planning to do?"

"Call the lawyers back," I replied, "see what options they're going to offer me. I'm sure you'll hear all about it."

"Can't wait," she kissed me again, "I gotta go, we are having dinner tonight?"

"Unless you change your mind," I continued, "go work. I'll see you this evening, and by the way, you look absolutely gorgeous this morning."

"Thank you," she blushed, "ok I really have to go. See you tonight," again she kissed me and headed out. I finished the cigarette and the cup of coffee and headed back to my apartment, I turned on the phone and let the constant notifications die down before I picked it up. I made the first couple of calls that I needed to return, mainly to their lawyers in order to setup meetings for later that morning.

Those meetings were as interesting as could be expected, I was told to sign one form after another, mainly saying that I would not pursue legal charges since they had taken care of the issue. The main question was presented, "do you want to go back to your position or we are prepared to offer you another position at the same pay scale in another clinic." I had to think about that one for some time, a decision that they respected.

That evening, Chris knocked on my door and showed up with ingredients to make burritos, we got to work making the meat and trimmings, while I made a green chile sauce to smother them along with some refried beans and Spanish rice. By the time we settled down to eat I had told her about the meeting with the lawyers and about their proposition, she was interested in what my decision would be but there really was nothing to say. I had not decided yet.

"So, D," Chris began, "I want to know what it is that you want from me? From us?"

"That's all," I replied, "I want there to be an us," just as I was about to continue my phone rang. The caller ID showed a phone number that I had not seen in a very long time, in fact I had almost forgotten about it. "I'm sorry, Chris, it's my father calling."

"D," my mother's voice said, "your brother is in jail. You need to come home, son."

"Why are you using my father's phone?"

"You wouldn't have answered it if I had called from mine, get home, soon."

"Just my luck," I said, "I finally find someone worth my time, and this shit happens."

"I understand," Chris said, "when are you going to leave?"

"Tomorrow," I replied, "fuck!"

"Don't leave angry," she replied, "how long will you be gone?"

"I don't know," I replied as I rubbed my face, "I have to find out what is going on and what they need me to do. It could be days, it could be months."

She reached out and grabbed the side of my face, turned me to face her and kissed me with as more passion than she had shown before, my breath escaped me. Quickly, she straddled me, kissing me more deeply if that was even possible, my hands immediately grabbed at her waist. She rubbed her body against mine, our breathing became more ragged, her hands moved to my chest, pulling at my shirt desperately. As my shirt was pulled over my head, her gasp at the amount of scars was clear, she looked me in the eyes with a terrible sadness and pity before she continued kissing me.

"If you're going to leave," she said, "I want to give you something to look forward to coming back to," she hissed as she stood up in front of me. Reaching behind her, she slowly pulled her shirt over her head and undid her bra, letting it fall onto the ground. Next, she undid the button on her shorts and let them fall, she was not wearing any panties. Before I realized it, she was undoing the button in my own jeans as she pulled them off, as we stood there completely naked for the first time, she again straddled me.