tagNovels and NovellasRites of Passage Ch. 05

Rites of Passage Ch. 05


I woke up to an alarm beeping. It took me a few minutes, but eventually I figured out it was coming from the corner my clothes were in. I went over and pulled out my cell phone; I had set the alarm for 1 p.m. the day before but hadn't turned it off. I couldn't believe it was that late. Or that early, depending on how you want to look at it. I woke Monica up and told her I was leaving. She asked me what time it was and I told her. "Wow, thanks for waking me up, I gotta be at work by 3. Hold on before you leave." She went into the back while I got dressed. Eventually, Monica came back out, fully dressed and with a CD in her hand. "Take this. It's the data you need for your squad leader to consider your mission a success."

"OK, I'll take your word for it," I said with a laugh.

"Also, you'll find a Jeep outside. You can use it to get back."

"All right, I'll be on my way then. What time do you get off work?"

She cocked her head. "Why?"

"Just out of curiosity."

"9 p.m."

"Oh. OK." I gave Monica a hug and went on my way. True to her word, there was an empty Jeep waiting for me outside the building. I looked around me and realized that I was actually on top of Dead Man's Mile, looking down into the chasm at the very end of it. I got into the vehicle and hauled ass back to the clubhouse. When I arrived, every single member of Fury Squad was there to congratulate me on a successful 'mission.' I had no time to stop and chat; I had to find Michael. He was in the manager's office, seated at a laptop computer. I gave him my 'recon data' and went back out to mill around with my mates. After about an hour or so, Michael came out with a smile on his face. "Congratulations, Dorian. After your ops last night the enemy won't be able to carry out their operations for quite some time." Everybody burst out in a fit of laughter, which I allowed myself to join before leaving and heading for home.

Once I got home, I immediately got on my computer. I did a few minutes worth of research before heading right back out the door. The thing is, everyone at the club house thought that no more operations could be carried out because I had caused, shall we say, significant damage to the enemy's numbers. When in fact, any soldier knows there are two ways to win a war: leave the enemy no bodies to fight with, or no resources to equip them with. Translation: they weren't scaling back the ritual because I had fucked them too sorely; I had simply stolen their supply of Alprostadil. Not out of any personal grudge or anything like that, but I had somewhere to go.

I arrived at Eastern Hill Pharmacy around 3 p.m. I walked through the door, and sure enough, there was Monica working behind the counter. She had her head down engaged in something, but when she looked up, the look on her face was one of sheer shock. "Dorian? How'd you find me here?"

I said nothing, just made sure that no one was looking, then tossed her the small bottle.

She emptily examined the bottle, then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. I don't know what it is, but I like you. Too much to let you go."

"I don't know..."

"C'mon, at least think about it. I mean, I know you enjoyed last night, and I was hoping that it wouldn't be just a one-night stand."

She sighed. "The truth is, Dorian, I'm involved. With another woman."

That hit me kind of hard, but I took it as well as I could. "Oh...well, can't blame a guy for trying." I turned for the door, but then I heard her voice calling me back. "I have to be honest though; I'm not happy with her. She seems more absent when she's at home than when she's gone. She never really pays me any attention... I mean, we've been together for a year and a half and already I think you know more about me than she does. I don't know for sure, but being with you has to be better than being with her."

"So why do you stay with her, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I know I'm a mess with her, but I'm even worse off by myself. I'm a lonely person, and for me, sometimes I settle for being with someone who treats me badly than being by myself."

I stopped to take in what I just heard. "I can totally understand where you're coming from, believe me. However, I don't want to be the reason you end your relationship. What I mean is, if you want to do it, even if it is specifically to be with me, you have to do it for yourself."

I turned to leave. "I'll be back at 9," I said as I walked out the door.

True to my word, at 9 p.m. I was back at the pharmacy. Monica was waiting outside with keys in hand, ready to lock up. I parked along the curb and waited. Monica finished locking the doors and hopped into the car with me. She had made her choice.

I took Monica to her girlfriend's apartment. Not too surprisingly (to me, anyway) she was engaged with a man and another woman. I stood by while business was transacted, and then Monica left, securely tucked under my arm. We ended up going back to her place, where we made good use of the effects of the Alprostadil until they wore off.

This whole story took place about a month ago, and I'm not gonna lie; I enjoy retelling it more and more every time. But the best part is, it's not over yet. Monica and I are still together, developing the kind of relationship both of us have been looking for. It seems we find something new to love about each other every day, not to mention our sex life is off the charts. We even have a little trade system worked out: every now and then she lets me bring home another woman to join us, and every then and now I let her bring home some Alprostadil.

But I STILL hate needles!


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