Chapter One
Friday
Reeve
“A rehearsal for the wedding? I thought the big day was next weekend?”
I have to ask.
Even though it’s my oldest friend, Rhys, I still have to ask.
Even though we can practically read each other’s minds.
“Pre-rehearsal,” Rhys corrects me, making me click my tongue in disbelief as I roll my eyes.
Wondering what the hell happened to us.
When did we get so fucking old and Rhys so ‘owned’ by his on-again-off-again fiancé, Clara?
Private Rhys Conner and his best buddy Reeve Bannon. We were the stand out recruits in our Marine Corps trainee unit.
And for every year we served together after that.
And for all the wrong reasons.
I was Reeve Bannon ‘The Cannon’, and Rhys ‘The Piece’ Conner.
Nicknames on account of our crazy behavior and daring when serving active duty, as well as our medal winning marksmanship.
But what we really did learn is trust, respect, and honor.
Something you discover keeps you and your buddies alive in the field.
So when my best friend and ex-marine buddy interrupts my already crazy busy day on a construction site to remind me about the ‘pre-rehearsal’ for his upcoming wedding. Well… I just have to ask myself:
Bro. Are you serious? That’s like practicing for your next shit, or ‘pre-rehearsing’ how you’d eat a box of fucking crayons.
Rhys’s dry laugh sounds a little strained over my silence, and I move back into my mobile office so I’m not shouting over the construction noise.
“I know, I know,” he groans. “But I… We just want our big day to go off without a hitch,” he explains.
“Think of it more like a… mission briefing,” he adds thoughtfully.
“All that physical training, all those midnight hikes and swims carrying hundred-pound packs. Wasn’t that rehearsing?” he asks me, with just the slightest hint of been there done that in his voice.
I make a low growling sound. “Pre-rehearsing,” I rumble in a sarcastic tone.
Always hating it when he’s right.
“I guess you just caught me on a bad day is all, buddy. End of the week, you know how it is,” I confess, nudging the chip off my shoulder.
Still unable to tell Rhys how much I envy him for finding someone. Even if it is a chaotic decade-long relationship.
Those two certainly do love each other, no doubt about it. Rhys is one lucky guy especially now they’re tying the knot.
Me?
I’ve flown solo my whole life. ‘Bannon the loose cannon.’ That’s what they really called me behind my back.
“Anything I can do to help?” Rhys asks, breaking my silent reverie.
Always ready to do a solid for a friend. For a fellow Marine.
The only question asked is always ‘How can I help? Tell me what you need.’
“Not unless you can get three ten-ton truckloads of concrete here in under an hour on a Friday,” I try to joke and remember that these problems are all tiny compared to active duty.
“Cement, huh?” Rhys asks. Letting me know by his tone that he’s thinking the same about everyday problems.
“Concrete,” I correct him. “Got cement in it, but we’re pouring foundations,” I tell him. Sure he’s just winding me up now.
His post-Marine life as an architect and mine as a construction foreman are filled with daily problems. But all of them are easy compared to what we’ve already lived through.
Rhys broke his back the one and only time we weren’t deployed together. His last and final deployment, but he’s never lost his Marine’s sense of humor.
He got an honorable discharge and I finished the rest of my Marine career without him next to me, but we talked every chance we got.
Friends and Marines.
For life.
I’m officially retired from service now, and with a choice between building stuff and breaking a man in half with my pinkie as life skills, it was a helluva lot easier to just start my own construction business.
Rhys has done very well for himself, so have I. And like all Marines, we help each other out.
He designs ‘em, and I build most of his commercial and residential projects.
We could joke about years wasted, our youth could’ve been better spent stacking cash. But Marines are for life.
They teach you everything you need to make something from nothing or to manage a whole lotta something the best way possible. Whatever that something might be.
This time around, that something is Rhys’s fiancé. Clara.
And although I’m off-guard at the minute, and not Clara’s biggest fan if I’m totally honest. I’ll do whatever he asks to make sure Rhys has his special day and every day after that.
I’m about to tell him as much when in true Rhys ‘The Piece’ style, he has a solution for my little problem.
“I know a guy,” is all he says at first. “For your concrete,” he adds, filling in the blanks my mind’s suddenly full of.
I’m back in a jungle somewhere, wishing Rhys was right by my side to back me up, but we’re here now.