“Sir, did you forget what is happening this afternoon?” Sloan asked.
“No,” he said. “Rhino’s ceremony. I have plenty of time.”
“That’s tonight…” Her eyes narrowed. “You seriously don’t know?”
X tilted his head, clueless.
“Colonel Moreto’s fight to the death,” Sloan reminded him.
“Yeah, I know,” he growled. “I just don’t give two shits, or even one. Mags will make quick work of that old hag.”
“Are you going to watch?”
He shrugged.
“Do you need help getting ready?”
“Help?”
“You know…” His body language sent her back a step.
“I can wipe my ass with the other hand, if that’s what you mean,” X said. “And if I’m not there on time, Carmela can have an extra hour in the brig before she dies.”
“Okay, then, sir.”
As Sloan left, Michael and Layla squeezed past her. Layla wore a white dress that curved over her belly, and Michael was in new black pants and a camel-colored shirt. His long hair was pulled back, and Layla wore braids.
Miles trotted over to say hello.
“X, will you be ready to go soon?” Michael asked, petting the dog. He stopped stroking Miles when he saw the bottles.
“Don’t say it, kid,” X said. “I already got the full ration of shit from Lieutenant Sloan.”
“You’ve been drinking more, and I’m starting to worry.”
Layla kept silent, but he could see the concern in her eyes.
“I don’t need scolding today,” X said. “I’m going to watch Magnolia cut off Moreto’s head, and then say goodbye to a dear friend.”
“No judgment. I’m just worried.”
“Nothing to worry about, but I’ll warn you now, after the ceremony I’ll probably drink another bottle. It’s my process, and I’ll get through it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get dressed so I don’t have to worry about Sloan trying to do it,” X said. He walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor, then went to his dresser. The drawer rattled, but he couldn’t get the damn thing open.
He pulled harder, and it sprang off its tracks. He stumbled back against the side of his bed, dumping clean clothes onto the pile of dirty laundry.
Layla stopped in the hall, and Michael hesitated in the open doorway.
“It’s fine,” X said, holding up his stump and wincing in pain. “I’ll get it.”
“Give me a minute,” Michael said to Layla.
She quietly shut the hatch behind her, leaving them in silence.
“X, we need to talk,” Michael said firmly.
“If I had a piece of coin for every time I’ve heard that—”
“You’d be able to buy your own island,” Michael said. “You said that a lot when I was growing up, remember?”
X couldn’t help but grin, recalling old times.
“Well, you got your island, so why are you drinking like you did at the Wingman?”
Bending down, X grabbed his favorite shirt and draped it over his bed. Then he laid out a pair of brown shorts.
“X, I’m not judging you; I’m trying to help,” Michael said. “You almost died again, but you didn’t, and that’s a damn good thing, because we need you. I need you, and pretty soon, Bray is going to need you.”
X had his back turned to Michael now. Pulling off his T-shirt, he used it to wipe the tears away.
Michael stepped closer. “I want you to be Bray’s godfather,” he said. “Layla and I were going to ask together, but I think you really needed to hear this from me today. And there’s something else I want to ask you.”
X tossed the shirt on the floor and faced Michael, trying to keep his lip from quivering.
“I’m going to ask Layla to be my wife,” Michael said. “And I want you to be the one to marry us.”
X couldn’t stop himself from choking up. Miles moved over and pressed against his leg, whimpering.
“Xavier,” Michael said.
He reached out and grabbed X, pulling him into a hug. X felt as if he might break at the young man’s touch.
“X, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. You’ll get used to not having an arm. It’s not so bad, trust me.”
X chuckled and snorted at the same time. “My arm isn’t the reason I’ve been drinking like a fish.”
“Then why?” Michael asked.
“The past, and the future.” X recalled the fortune cookie with the quote about both those things. “I know I’m supposed to accept the past without regret and face the future without fear, but sometimes… sometimes I just can’t fucking do it, kid. I’ve trekked the wastes for a decade, found a home for our people, and continued the fight, but I’m getting old and I’m tired. Tired of fighting, and really tired of losing my friends.”
“I understand, X, I do. But please, you got to keep fighting—if not for yourself, for Bray. I want you to meet him, and at this rate, I’m worried you’re going to slip back into the darkness I remember.”
X thought back to those days after Aaron had died on the surface, and even before. He had watched Tin grow up but couldn’t remember a lot of the good times because he had been too drunk during many of them.
And he had missed Michael’s teens by being stranded on the surface. It wasn’t until last year, after they found each other in Florida, that X had really connected with him again after he had grown into a man. Michael was the son he never had.
“I’m not giving up,” X said.
He walked over and grabbed the wine bottles in his left hand and tucked them against his body with the stump of his right arm. Then he went to the open window and looked out over the water.
He flung the bottles out and watched them splash into the ocean. Michael handed him the last bottle, still half full.
X hesitated long enough to smell the wine.
“I’ll miss the fruit juice,” he said as he lobbed it out after the others.
Michael joined X at the window, and they stood taking in the gorgeous view.
“This is worth fighting for, kid,” X said. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“You’re welcome. Now, about that request?”
“I’d be honored, kid, you know that.”
They embraced so hard that X hurt, but he didn’t care.
“Okay,” X said, pulling away, “enough of the sweet sap, as Rhino used to say. Let’s go see Colonel Moreto become a head shorter, and then I’m going to give our friend Rhino the send-off he deserves.”
FOURTEEN
Magnolia slipped on the boots that Sofia had given her the night they escaped from el Pulpo only to be captured later during the war between their two societies. That horrific night had almost resulted in her death. And tonight, Magnolia was going back to war. Colonel Carmela Moreto was going to die. And Magnolia was going to kill her.
Bending down, she laced up the leather boots. Lighter than her bulky Hell Diver boots, they would allow her to move nimbly in the arena.
She wasn’t as fast as she once had been, or as thin, but she had packed on muscle from routine exercise and a healthy diet of vegetables, fish, and fruit.
“Change of plans,” said a voice.
Rodger and Sofia stood at the entrance to her quarters. He still wore his Hell Diver armor from training earlier, but Sofia had changed into a dress and red shoes. Yellow flower petals graced her braided hair.
She wasn’t dressed for the fight. She was dressed for her final farewell to General Nick “Rhino” Baker. After the fight, they would honor him and spread his ashes over the water.
“What do you mean, ‘change of plans’?” Magnolia asked.
“Colonel Moreto has requested a new site for your battle,” Rodger said.
“What? Can she do that?”