The Soldier Next Door

I have never been able to control my temper; it is just one of those things that Ethan Hunter cannot do. Now, I find myself furious and pissed off. Yet Ana has no idea, and I am not giving her one either.

So much to her irritation, I ignore her very questions and rise to my feet, and head for the door.

I hear her snap after me, “Where are you going?”

“I have something I need to sort out.”

So, it seems that some people cannot do their work, so I am the one left that needs to clean up this mess…

Once and for all!

Now I can not go and kill the man, yet I am going to convince him rather persistently that he needs to take serious what I say.

Am I being reckless? Yes, of course, there is no reasoning with me when I find myself when I am boiling over from anger. I know that it would have been a fairly good idea to have brought Gibbs with me, but I was too one-tracked-minded to make a sensible decision. And right now, I am not going to back off and go hide in my corner.

Ethan Hunter does not hide, and he does not share either.

So it is with great confidence but a nagging voice in the back of my head that I find myself driving to the address that I so friendly drew out the lady in the admin office only hours ago. I am making a very bold and risky move here.

I can simply not lose Ana.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

But, I can easily lose my life for doing what I am set to do. As I look at myself in the rearview mirror, I can see eyes that hold a slight hint of fear. Ethan Hunter does not feel fear; I will claim what is mine today. So, I flip my sunglasses down and hide the eyes that wish to deceive me.

And it is in his very driveway that I am now pulling up my car. Yet, I am not sure if I this is where it should be. That is very soon confirmed as I watch him exit through the front door. The man must be truly stupid just to walk out like that in the open; it will take me only but five seconds to take him out and have my ass out that gate again. Now, that does sound like a plan, but I shall rather settle this like the gentleman that we both claim we are.

It is with very careful but still somewhat hesitant steps that I bring the car to a stop right in front of his door. I give myself a quick once-over glance in the rearview mirror again and exit the car.

“What is it that I can help you with, Hunter? You are very brave to show your face here.”

“I can say the very same thing about you.”

I watch as he furrows his brows and adjusts his pants where I am assuming he is hiding his gun, “What can I help you with, Hunter?”

“I came here to talk to you man-to-man about my wife.”

He bursts out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter that only but winds me up again, yet, I let it go and wait for him to get whatever he seems to find so amusing of his chest.

Then he continues, “Yes, about that. It will be very kind of you if you hand her over now.”

Something in me snaps, and I am on the edge of falling into that abyss of anger, but I compose myself and continue to answer, “She is not a piece of property that you can hand over.”

“Well, then, would you kindly hand my wife over.”

I only take but a deep breath and count from three…two… one, “Can we discuss this like civilized men in your home. I do not wish to stand and have an argument with you on your doorstep.”

He reluctantly shows for me to enter, taking me through one rather big and lavish lounge furnished in all but white. Well, that is truly the dullest thing I have ever seen and rather sore on the eye. Yet, the bar where we find our final destination does get more than one glance from me. The man does have one impressive collection of whiskey.

And so he offers, and I will humbly accept in the hope that he will not be poisoning me today. Once we both have a chilled glass in hand, we take a seat opposite each other.

“So,” he begins. “Let me get this straight. You have a nerve showing your face here, and you wish to discuss our wife.”

“Well, if you have to put it so pleasantly. Yes. I am here to tell you that you cannot have Ana.”

I watch as there is a flare-up of what I can only assume is irritation and maybe a bit of anger on his face. “You are telling me?”

“Yes, Brendan, that is what I said. Ana and I are set to get married, and I wish for you to consider your arrangement as null and void.”

Now, if I thought that talking to him like a gentleman is going to get me anywhere, I am sadly mistaken, for he immediately takes a hostile stance. He always uses to be a hothead as a teenager, and he has not yet outgrown to urge to throw a fit. I guess that we have come to that point where things are now going to become ugly.

“Hunter, you can screw yourself.”

“Well, Mark, you can go fuck yourself.”

He smirks at me as he tosses his shot of whiskey to the back of his throat, “That is not going to happen.”

“I am afraid that it is. You will not come near Ana.”

“I truly think that you do not have a choice, Ethan. Do you think that you can come in here and demand things from me?”

“I don’t think Mark. I know.” I take a sip of the chilled whiskey and place my glass on the table. “I am telling you that you will stay away from Ana.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you will see what happens.”

He stands up to fetch the bottle of whiskey and pour us both another shot; while he is away from the table, I slip my hands into the back of my pants and grip firmly onto my gun. Just before he makes his way back, I slide it and place it under my jacket that is lying next to me on the table.

As he sits down, I can see that his face has grown with more anger than it held before. Well, I guess he cannot control his either, and mine is just about to snap. But I am not here to cause a problem, and most of all not even start one, though as he continues.

“This is how it is going to work, Hunter. You are going to hand the bitch over, or I will come to fetch her.”

And that is me; all restraint that I was holding together rips loose by the seams, “You. Do. Not. Call. My. Wife. A. Bitch.”

And in an instant, I have slipped my hand underneath my jacket and am holding a Ruger firmly pointed at Mark’s face. Yes, perhaps I lied. I came here with the full intention to show him that I mean what I am saying. And it gives me great satisfaction to see the terror that has now crept into his eyes.

Then after what seems a good five minutes, Mark finds his voice to speak again, “You are playing a dangerous game, Hunter.”

“Nobody touches my woman. Least of all you. Now,” I lift my gun but an inch higher to line it perfectly with his temple, “You will leave Ana alone.”

“You,” in what seems to be a very slow five seconds, Mark reaches for his own piece and aims it straight at my forehead, hoping to catch me fumble, yet he does not know that I am far fucking better than he is. As he sees that I am not moving, he starts to speak again, “You have made a big mistake coming here.”

“No,” I shake my head at him and raise my voice. “You have made a mistake not taking what I have asked you into consideration.”

I keep eyes level and stare him down, waiting for him to falter, though he holds his gun firmly, so I only but take mine and move it to him even closer. It seems that only one of us will see the end of the day. I have taken that step and walked straight over that line without even blinking. I have said this before, and I will continue to repeat it. I will not lose Ana.

And perhaps I should repeat it to this man that seems to be as thick as a fucking doornail, “I am not asking you again, Mark. I need for you to leave Ana alone.”

Then there is a shatter as the glass tumbles to the floor. I watch as Mark rises from his seat.

“My name is not Mark, and you are not leaving alive here. You just made your biggest mistake.”