Nine Marines' Shared Property - Nicole Casey Page 0,44

get me started.”

“Do you have any advice?” I asked.

“Yes, Axel, I do. I think this is a conversation you should have with Gwen. But it doesn’t have to be about you and her—at least, you don’t need to put it that way. Try talking to her about the man-woman dynamic in a general way. You could get a better idea of what she thinks on the subject and you can adjust accordingly.”

“I don’t know.”

“Talking about it won’t make you look weak.”

“It might.”

“It will make you look honest and introspective.”

“Ergo, weak.”

She bumped me with her shoulder. “Please tell me that was a joke.”

“That was a joke.”

“Women are very perceptive,” she continued. “If you talk to her hypothetically about the man-woman dynamic, she’ll pick up on where you’re going. Trust her. and trust your instincts.”

“Sounds hard,” I said.

“It is. And also, please, don’t go on doing something or being someone you aren’t comfortable with. That won’t last.”

She was making sense. But she wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear. I wanted a simple, easy solution, maybe a set of principles or ground rules I could follow. But it wasn’t as simple and easy as that.

“I’ll try,” I said.

“You’d better,” she replied. And nothing she’d said that night was as true as that.

18

Taylor

Five days without Gwen: I’d hardly noticed the time pass. Probably because I’d spent a good part of it thinking about her and dreaming about her. I hadn’t really been without her, since she was always on my mind. But when Elijah happened to bring it up one night, the passage of time finally struck me.

“Damn, it’s been five days since The Marina Hotel,” Elijah said.

“Five days!” I replied.

“Does it seem longer?” he asked.

“It seems like only yesterday.” Yesterday I was with Gwen at the hotel; the whole squad was there and we were taking turns satisfying her; she tossed and turned on the bed, her head arched back, mouth open, moaning in ecstasy. But that was only a daydream.

I called Travis hoping he would send her a text from me, but Travis didn’t answer. I skipped lunch and jogged down to The Bean Counter. I’d only have about fifteen minutes to spend with her, but that would have to do—that and my daydreams.

When I arrived at the cafe, Christy greeted me. She said that Gwen wasn’t in, and that she hadn’t been in the day before, either. She sounded concerned when she told me this. “I tried calling her,” said Christy. “I left a message, but she hasn’t called me back.”

“Do you have Holly’s number, her roommate?”

“Just a second.” She walked away and made a phone call. I stood there waiting and worrying.

“Here it is,” she said. She showed me her screen, and I dialed the number.

“Hello, Holly. This is Taylor.”

Holly, too, sounded worried when I told her I hadn’t been able to reach Gwen and that she hadn’t shown for work two days straight.

“I’ll call you back, Taylor.”

I didn’t want her to hang up. I wanted answers. I wanted Gwen. Instead, I was met with silence. I jogged back to the base.

I contacted the rest of the squad. That wasn’t helpful. All they could do was worry with me. Finally, Holly called me back.

“She’s in Los Angeles,” she said. Her voice betrayed worry and a bit of anger.

“What’s she doing in Los Angeles?”

“Something stupid.”

“Where in Los Angeles?”

“You should try a bar called Tree Top,” she said.

“A bar? Tree Top?”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” she said. “I’m not in San Diego right now.”

“Is she OK?” I asked.

There was a long pause on the other end, which did not bode well. “I don’t know,” said Holly. Her voice was low with a mixture of worry and hurt and frustration—exactly what I was feeling, too.

“Thanks, Holly. I’ve got to go. Will you call me if there’s any news?”

“Of course. And you, too. Call me if you hear anything.”

I wasn’t going to wait around hoping to hear something. I’d never been the patient type, more like the type who takes action.

I went to the mess hall and found the squad—well most of them. “Where’s Manny and Nolan?” I asked.

“They’re on duty,” said Santiago.

“Damn.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Tristan. “What’s going on?”

“We have to go to Los Angeles,” I said.

“What?” said Elijah. “Los Angeles? When?”

“Now!”

As long as we made it back to the base by 6 am, there’d be no problem. But I wasn’t worried about that; we already had a problem: Gwen was gone.

“I’ll explain in the car,” I said.

We packed into the