Bag Lady & the Retired Marine Ch. 11bySusanJillParker©
Agreeing to move in with him, Dave and Susan become a couple.
Dave and Susan climbed in the Hummer, drove to his apartment, and parked the big truck in front of his door. He knew his buddy would be by to collect his truck soon, after making arrangements to sell Tyrone's new Cadillac Escalade to the international contacts they had and load the luxury SUV on a container ship headed to North Africa. No matter what they were selling there were buyers everywhere to buy anything and they knew where to look to find them.
"Are you okay?" He asked her finally when they pulled up in front of his apartment after driving there in silence not talking about what just happened.
"Am I okay?" She looked as if waiting for him to ask that loaded question. She looked at him as if taking aim with a gun. If looks could kill, he'd be dead.
"Susan, I just asked you one lousy question. I didn't attack you in the way you're about to attack me," he said wanting to slap her as much as he wanted to kiss her.
Maybe because he found her tied to a strippers' pole naked but he was already sexually aroused that five men saw her naked.
"You're really a piece of work Dave. Maybe because your entire life had been war and death, violence doesn't affect you in the way that it affects others," said Susan shaking her head while staring at him. "Based on how you go through life numbly after killing someone, apparently you don't know how you're supposed to feel. So, you tell me. How do you think I am?"
"What?" He truly didn't hear what she had just said. He stopped listening to her when she started yelling at him. With both afflicted with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and each one handling their emotional condition differently, she was filled with rage. He just had to scratch the surface with her for her hair to stand up on her back. Perfect for one another as both of them played that troubled game, as soon as she raised her voice to him, he tuned her out. "I don't understand why you're so angry Susan."
In the way that Tyrone and his two men had stripped her naked, he wanted to strip her naked and fuck her. He wanted to dominate her and control her so that she'd just shut the Hell up. He wanted to show her that he was the boss man and she was the lowly woman.
"You don't understand why I'm so angry?" She stared at him without talking. "After being kidnapped, stripped naked, and slapped around by three men, do you really think that I'd be okay?" As if thinking about all that happened, she paused and he wondered if she was as sexually aroused being stripped naked as he was sexually excited seeing her tied to the stripper's pole naked. "Tyrone stuck his finger inside of me while touching me and feeling me everywhere." She looked at him with anger.
Dave put his head down as if he was supposed to feel more than what he felt. Certainly, he felt glad that Susan was safe and sound but, as if she was blaming him for her putting herself in danger, he didn't understand why she was so angry about now. She was the one who had walked out on him. The only thing he felt now was anger anger giving his men the order to behead Tyrone. The only thing he felt was vengeance when he knew that Tyrone was dead and the proceeds of his sold truck would go as payment to his buddies for helping him. The only other thing that he felt was sexual excitement by the thought of Susan tied to the pole and standing there naked in front of three black men and his two friends, Mike and Big Louie.
Proud that she was his woman, at least he hoped she was, Mike and Big Louie must have been besides themselves with lust when seeing Susan's hot, naked body and giant sized breasts. An unspoken code between them, knowing they'd never speak of it to say, he wondered what Mike and Big Louie thought of Susan's hot body. He knew they saw her. He knew they were looking. Having entered the room after Mike, Big Louie may not have seen as much of Susan as the other four men had.
He now had second thoughts about allowing the other two men to go free after stripping Susan naked and touching her everywhere they shouldn't have felt her. Who knows, maybe he turned their lives around? Maybe after putting the fear of God in them, they'd take that as a second chance to give up drugs, prostitution, and violence. Able to easily disarm them, those two weren't cut out for that line of work.
"I'm sorry that Tyrone sexually assaulted you but, if it means anything to you at all, I can promise you that he'll never touch you again," he said gripping the steering wheel as if he was gripping Tyrone's neck.
Outraged that he had fingered his woman, he should have had Big Louie cut off his fingers before cutting off his head. In the way that some of his men have been tortured and killed by the Taliban, a slow death would have more befitted Tyrone for what he's done to women and how he treated and disrespected his childhood friend, Carmen from Detroit. Tyrone was lucky he hadn't had the time to force Susan to blow him. Then, instead of showing him mercy by having Big Louie make just one, quick cut, loping off pieces at a time, he would have made him feel real pain before he died.
"You don't have a clue how I feel to ask me that question. You should know how I feel," she said no longer looking at him and sitting angrily quiet for a moment. "I thought they were going to rape me and gangbang me before killing me," she said softly as if talking to herself with her eyes welling up with tears. "I thought I'd never see you again," she said pausing to look at him before finishing the last of what she said in a whisper. "I thought I'd never get to tell you how I feel about you."
He was stunned by her admission that she had feeling for him. Acting as if she hated him and wanted to kill him, to hear her confess that she had feelings for him was something he's been waiting to hear.
"You have feeling for me?" He looked at her still feeling hurt, angry, and rejected that she walked out on him after telling her that he loved her. "How do you feel about me?" He looked at her waiting for her to respond and continued talking when she didn't. "Now that I've already told you how I feel about you and you didn't tell me now how you feel about me," he said looking at her with love while waiting for her to answer him. When she didn't answer him, he asked his question again. "How do you feel about me?"
He wanted to reach out and hold her but, too far of a divide to cross, the wide center console of the Hummer was in the way of him putting his arm around her and having an intimate moment with her. Maybe if they were standing outside of the truck, he would have hugged her but in the horny way that he felt right now, she would have taken offense when he reached down to cup her sweet ass with one hand while feeling her big breast with his other. Instead he just reached out to pat and squeeze her shoulder before rubbing her left ear with his right hand as if she was a dog.
Not knowing what else to do, Dave wasn't very good at intimate moments, especially when fully dressed. Apparently not much better than he was at showing her feelings, better at showing her anger, she seemed tensely uncomfortable with the conversation and with him putting her on the spot. As if he was a pesky mosquito, she voiced her obvious frustration to communicate by swatting his hand away from her ear.
"Stop that," she said brushing his hand away. "I'm not your dog," she gave him a laugh. "Gees, Dave, for someone who knows how to handle himself in every situation, you're at a loss when it comes to women."
Kettle black he wanted to say. She should talk because in the way she was acting now, other than fighting them, hitting them, kicking them, and punching them, she was at a loss when it came to handling men too. They were both so much alike in that regard. Both would rather be physical than emotional. Both would rather hit than talk.
"Sorry," he said looking at her. "So how are you? You never told me how you are," He persisted in wanting to know her feelings but changed the subject when she didn't volunteer to tell him how she felt about him or about herself. "I don't have a clue how you are other than that you're angry at me and I don't know why," he said throwing up his hands as if he was surrendering, something he's unaccustomed to doing.
He wondered if she loved him as much as he loved her. He wondered if this was the beginning of something good and everlasting. Just as he thought that, he panicked that his life would change with her in it for good. Then, he thought, what if she didn't want him. What if this was the end and the last time seeing her.
"How do you think I am after five strange men saw me naked," she said playing with the bottom of her blouse.
"Oh, that, yeah, well, you'll never see Tyrone's associates again and the only time you'll see my friends again is at their fourth of July barbeque," he said with a dirty, little laugh.
He imagined her drunk and topless at one of his friend's pool parties, only she didn't drink. She didn't even smoke. And after her reaction now about being naked in front of five strange men, there's no way she'd be topless at one of his friend's drunken, pool parties.
"Great. I won't bother wearing any clothes so that they'll recognize me. They won't have to go to the trouble of undressing me with their eyes," she said.
He could only imagine her walking in his friend's backyard naked. He could only imagine the reaction of his friends and the outrage of their wives and girlfriends. He'd loved nothing better than to show off her hot body to the guys.
"My friends aren't like that Susan. Guys who'd give their life for you have more respect for you than to hit on your woman," he said, at least liking to think that but knowing better. All of his friends were horny dogs. Glad to be alive when they returned home and not knowing if they'd survive their next mission, once they were drunk, whether they were wives, girlfriends, mothers, daughters, and/or sisters, all women were fair game and most women gave them what they wanted. "These are my best buddies from combat and there are lines that we never cross, especially when it comes to wives and girlfriends."
When he said your woman, he thought of her as being his woman. Waiting for her to say differently, he waited for her to react to him referring to her as his woman but she didn't. Maybe she liked him calling her his woman as much as he liked the idea of her being his woman. Now that he's with her again, he'd like to have her as a permanent fixture in his life, that is, so long as she took anger management classes or therapy for her Post Traumatic Stress.
"If you're waiting for me to say thank you, thank you," she said turning her head to make eye contact with him. "I'm alive and in one piece thanks to you and your friends," she said. "I don't know what they would have done to me had you not appeared."
Alive in one piece was more than he could say for Tyrone thought Dave when thinking about Tyrone's body in three construction bags and tossed in three, different dumpsters. No doubt, never to be found again, he'd soon be on a barge to be dumped at sea or on his way to be part of a landfill.
"I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I'd do if they..." he said not finishing the thought.
"I need a drink," she said shaking her head.
"I'm sorry about not coming to your rescue sooner before Tyrone stripped you naked and," he paused with the thought of Tyrone fingering Susan. "It took me some time to get a team together."
"A team? Weighing your options as if you're a tactical planner for the Pentagon, everything is military strategy with you."
"Weighing my options is what I've been trained to do Susan. Most times able to remove my emotions from the equation, the men who aren't able to stay calm die, he said. "Doing the job that I was trained to do, I'm alive because I don't get angry. I just get even."
"You don't know what it's like to be taken like that and to be so abused," she said wrapping her arms around herself as if she as cold. "Never so scared, I felt so helpless Dave."
Not knowing how else to comfort her, he confessed how he felt in a similar situation.
"Trust me Susan, I know what it's like to feel helpless. Having been held prisoner myself before, I know how you feel. You said that I don't know how you feel but for me to sense you were in danger, I must have had a clue to how you felt. Coming to your rescue yet again, I saved your ass again didn't I?" He looked at her with hurt. "After you ran out on me without even leaving me a note and without even acknowledging me telling you that I love you, I could have let you go but I had a feeling you needed my help."
Dave fell silent while looking out the window of the hummer. Being in a hummer again, he had flashbacks of riding around in an armored vehicle in Iraq and Afghanistan. Ready to kill anyone who made a threatening move, even though he was honorably retired from the United States Marine Corps, nothing in how he felt about being ready for danger changed in him. Never letting his guard down, he was aware of every person and every car on the street.
"Being with you is like living with a superhero," she said with seriousness. "Sometimes in the way I always seem to put myself in danger, you make me feel as dumb as Lois Lane. You're bigger than life Dave, the big, bad, retired Marine who took on the world and lived to tell about it. Glad that you donned your superhero uniform again to save me, you need to stop this avenger kick that you're on because you're not 30-years-old anymore. Besides, even though you still have the body to wear tights, I can't see you wearing a cape," she said with a laugh.
"I know and you're right but I did it for you," he said looking at her with love. "Now that you're safe and Tyrone is no longer a problem, let's go home. You can have a drink and collect yourself," he said. "We can discuss our future together, if there is to be one."
"Home?" She looked at him. "You mean here, your place and not the shelter where I've been living. Is this my home now? Is your home my home?"
"Yes, my place, that is, until you can make other arrangement or until we can find a bigger place to make it your own," he said looking over at her and taking his hand in his as if he was about to propose. "Move in with me Susan. Live with me. I know you may not feel the same way that I already confessed how I feel about you, but let's give this a try and see what happens. Maybe you'll love me in time."
"Being that I'm homeless, unemployed, and poor, you give a girl without options an attractive offer with a place to live, food to eat, and spending endless hours shopping for furniture and a bed," she said looking at him. "You are going to buy a bed and put that ugly, too small, lumpy, Marine Corps barracks cot in storage. Right?"
He looked at her and smiled already knowing her answer that she was going to live with him. Two peas in a pod, she was just as unable to reveal her real feelings as he was unable to show how he truly felt about her without first being in bed with her naked.
"Yes, even though the only beds I've slept in are that lumpy, Marine Corps' barracks cots and the bedbug, infested beds found at cheap motels, I will buy us a bed," he said smiling at her. "Okay?"
"Good. It's been a long while since I've slept in my own bed and I just don't want any bed. I want one of those memory foam beds that they advertise on TV. I want a king size bed. It would be good to finally spread out in a big bed instead of having to sleep on my side as if I'm a prisoner in a prison cell," she said.
"Make a list and we'll go shopping tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? No, I want and I need to go shopping today. After all that's happened to me, I have a lot on my mind and shopping always makes me feel better, especially when I'm spending someone else's money." She laughed while looking at him with curiosity. "You do have money to afford to buy a bed and furniture. Right?"
"I served overseas," he said with a proudly satisfied smile. "I was a career Marine. More than that, in the way of Rambo, I was the go to guy the colonel called to create the team needed to clean up the mess that the generals' made. The first one in and the last one out, money has never been an issue for me," he said with a little grin, "especially after being one of the first ones allowed in Iraq."
"It must have been so awful for you to have served over there. I can only imagine the bugs," she said.
Much bigger than tarantulas, he closed his eyes while allowing the memory of huge camel spiders to fill his mind.
"There were so many worthless dinars laying around that I could have paved the street with them. We found 16 billion dollars in American money too, cash, stacked neatly and wrapped in plastic as if just received from the world's biggest drug deal. It's funny that Saddam didn't trust his own economy enough to buy dinars instead of dollars. I still don't know why he just didn't take his treasure troves of American money and leave his country. A dozen third world countries would have welcomed him and his money with open arms."
"Iraq? After all of those air raids, that place was nothing more than a bombed out shithole. From the news photos they showed on TV, there was nothing left of it."
"Along with members of Saddam's personal Republican Guard and his loyal and most trusted men, you have no idea how many United States officers and enlisted men enriched themselves after raiding Saddam Hussein's palaces. They were grabbing money by the millions of dollars. Not wanting to be the one to rat, everyone turned a blind eye. Saddam had billions of dollars lying around in cash, stashed here and hidden there behind walls. Everywhere we looked, we found stashes and caches of money," he said. "Only sixteen billion dollars of that was found and most of that went missing. Easy to find the money, the trick is to get the money out of the country and home without being detected and having the money confiscated."
"How in the Hell do you do that when you're surrounded by other Marines and answering to a commanding officer?"
"You really don't want to know," he said with a smug laugh. "Yet, so long as you had the contacts that I had, the easiest way out was to remove your uniform, cross the border into Jordan, and make your way to North Africa, but you needed inside help and plenty of cash to grease hands along the way to do that. Instead, most guys just wanted to go home rich. I was the guy they came to for that too. With all the people that I knew and contacts that I had, for a percentage, I was the man who could make that happen. What they did to launder that money after it was in country was their problem and not mine."
"I don't think I want to know anything more other than that we have enough money to buy what we need," she said falling silent to study him. "Do you have enough money to buy me a car?"
"A car? Of course I'll buy you a car. What kind and what color?" He laughed while looking at her big tits and long legs. "You'd look good in a red, Mustang Cobra convertible."
She looked at him as if analyzing him.
"Somehow I get the feeling that none of this bothers you. It's just another Special Op's Mission to you. You must miss living on the edge to get down and dirty with some of the miscreants who live around here and who control this neighborhood with guns, drugs, and fear."
"After all that I survived in Iraq, Afghanistan, and every other God forsaken country I've been, nothing can fluster me, especially after spending two years in North Africa, the shithole of the world, where a 9-year-old would fill you with holes from a Kalashnikov rather than look at you. What happens here is child's play in comparison."
As soon as Dave unlocked his door and allowed Susan inside, unable to control his lust for her, he grabbed her by her long blonde hair and spun her around. As if he was Tyrone stripping her naked and as if she wanted him to strip her naked, she allowed him to rip open her blouse, pull her bra off over her head without even unhooking, it, pull down her short skirt without unbuttoning and/or unzipping it. With just four pieces of clothes removed, she was naked. He carried her to his bunk, spread her legs and licked and fingered her until she screamed out an orgasm and begged for him to stop.