Free A Soldier's Story by Iona Blair

her, Jay. Left her not a shred of dignity. I was there remember. I saw first hand what happened. No wonder she tried to slice off your gonads.
           Fuck off. She loved it, I tell you. Her orgasm thumped against my cock for ages, super strong contractions. If anyone humiliated her, betrayed her––if you will––it was her own body and desires. My ability to turn her on was greater than her will to resist.
           Bastard!
           Not you as well, pulease, gimme a break.
           He drove back to the base. He didn't feel like going home, and facing Kerry. He had to get a grip. He rummaged through the glove box for the whiskey flask, while keeping one eye on the road. Swallowed down what was left, and tossed it on the floor, then lit a cigarette. He had to stop drinking.
           Fog socked in the exit ramp. He slowed down suddenly, he'd almost missed it, and bang…Christ, he'd been rear-ended. Fuck! He struggled for control of the vehicle as it spun around in a circle and then careened onto the shoulder, eventually slamming against a barbed wire fence. The engine cut out.
           Oh my God, the blood pounded in his temples, that was a close call. He tried to start it up again, but it wouldn't turn over. Fuck! He was trapped. And when the police arrived they would breathalyse him and he'd be in deep shit. The driver's door was jammed, damaged by the collision, but he managed to exit by the passenger's side. He felt dizzy, unwell, and jarred by the impact, but he struggled on through the snow, still lying thick in places, to a truck stop. He called for a taxi and drank copious amounts of black coffee while he waited. When he arrived back at the base he stuck his head under the cold water tap to clear it, and then phoned for a tow truck.
           "Someone rear ended me and my car left the road," he explained. He gave its location. "I need it towed to a garage."
           "You're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident," the dispatcher said.
           "I know that." Jay gritted his teeth. "But it's freezing cold and the car wouldn't start." He drew a ragged breath. "Besides, it wasn't my fault. It was a very minor collision. I can fill out an accident report later…for the insurance company." He lit a cigarette. No easy task with trembling hands. "I'm Captain Sutherland. I can be contacted at the military base." That did the trick. They went for it. Jay smiled. Rank impressed. He exhaled a deep sigh of relief.
           Let that be a lesson to you, warned the little voice. If you keep on drinking and whoring you won't be so lucky next time. You'll end up in jail.
           It was right. He had to stop drinking, then everything else would correct itself. His life could get back on track. The affair with Darren had sent him spinning into a downward spiral. It went against the grain of everything he'd ever valued or respected. Heck, it broke every Commandment on the spot. Then there was the bloody missing patrol drama, tied up as it was with Darren that just wouldn't quit. He had to put it behind him, too. Frankly, the way he felt now, he didn't give a fuck if they'd found a dozen Bin Ladens and let them all go. He plugged in the coffee pot, lit another cigarette and stared out at the frozen Fraser River.
           The next morning a new platoon arrived. "They're from Camp Borden," said a sergeant. Jay edged his way through the noise and chaos in the administration building. He felt hung-over, very rough. When he got to the end of the corridor he speeded up to round the corner, and almost collided with someone coming out of one of the offices. Time stood still. His heart leaped into his mouth.
           Darren

Six

           Freeway traffic belted past the Starlight Motel, double-glazed windows blocked out the racket. Jay turned on the radio, and lay down on the bed. He expected Darren at any minute.
           They'd been super