Battle-Hardened, War Weary Ch. 08B

Ryan heard someone scoff. He was offended by that officer's action.

"Guys," Officer Yellow groaned. Ryan glanced at the cop, who was glaring at him. He knew that it was his way of chastising his friends. He felt honored by the subtle action.

The newly-minted husband resumed talking. "I love her and I do cherish her. I will protect her—

"Like how you protected her from that son-of a-bitch who attacked her?" Officer Orange said to him. Ryan detected a subtle French accent in the man's voice.

"Speaking of that mangy, piece of shit, tell us about that bastard," Officer Red asked.

Ryan glanced at the officer. "I handled it," he informed him.

"What do you mean...?"

Ryan shifted his attention towards Davis.

"...when you said that you 'handled it'?" Davis asked, also known as Officer Blue.

"Yeah Ryan..." stated Jack. The father-to-be glanced at the veteran detective. "...How did you handle it?"

Ryan let out a sigh as he turned to face the crib. He leaned his upper body closer to the crib. He pressed his forearms against the railing.

"Almost two weeks ago, Carlo had dropped by the house. I wasn't expecting him..."

***********

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'What-the...?'

Ryan's head snapped up before his brain could complete his inquiry. His eyes were still closed but he sought out the source of his sleep's disturbance. He listened to the loud and abrasive noise as it rung throughout the room. He listened to the noise a few more times before his brain finally registered that it was a phone.

'Who is calling me at this time of the night?' he wondered as his left hand rubbed the sleep from out of his eyes.

"Mmmm," he heard come from the naked, prone body that lied next to him.

Ryan opened his eyes and peered down at the curvy form that slept. She lied on her right side with her left hand holding onto her belly and her right arm was tucked underneath the pillow. She shifted and eventually rolled onto her back. A few seconds later, her purple irises were revealed to him and they were focused on his face. He noticed how her face appeared serene and calm. He considered Kali to be his demure angel.

"Can you please get that fucking phone already?" she groaned with disgust laced in her voice.

'Well, there goes the 'demure angel' angle,' his brain spoke. Then he chuckled.

"All right," he grunted before rolling away from her. He traveled over to the edge of the mattress. He slipped off of the bed and climbed down the platform's steps. He traveled over to the lounge area of the room. He approached the ivory-colored, Aniline leather furniture set and walked in front the Terrazzo marble, circular coffee table. On the table top, there were a stack of magazines and a black, plastic rotary phone. He grabbed the phone's receiver and answered the call.

"Hello Mrs. Laura," Ryan greeted as he scratched at his scalp.

"Good night Mister Whittler," the woman responded. Ryan took note of her strong, pronounced Guyanese accent. He knew from experience that when she spoke with her natural accent, she was pissed off. She had hurled that accent at him several times, when he was an adolescent. "I'm sorry, Sir, for disturbing you. But you have a—

"YOU TELL THAT GINGER MOTHERFUCKER TO COME DOWNSTAIRS, YOU BLACK BITCH! GO AHEAD AND TELL HIM!"

The statement was said a few feet away from the phone, but Carlo was loud enough that Ryan heard him perfectly.

He heard his housekeeper kiss her teeth before she spoke to him. "Sir, you have a few guests downstairs," Mrs. Laura, his housekeeper announced to Ryan. He felt her anger seep from the phone's receiver. He was pissed off as well. "I have told him that you've gone to bed—

"It is all right—

"RYAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU NEED TO GET YOUR BONY ASS DOWN HERE! I HAVE BROUGHT SOME FINE BITCHES WITH ME AND I CAN'T FUCK THEM ALL BY MYSELF, BUDDY!"

Ryan heard several feminine-tinged squeals in the background. A growl slipped from his throat. Then he tried to swallow the thick lump that was wedged inside of his throat. He was enraged. Carlo had disrespected his home by showing up unannounced and he brought a pair of hussies into his house as well. Plus, he just disrespected Mrs. Laura, who had to endure Carlo's despicable behavior for one second too long.

"Laura, are you there, ma'am?" Ryan asked into the phone.

"Yes Sunshine, I am still here" the woman said to him in a kind way.

Mrs. Laura's statement caused Ryan's anger to simmer down a bit. A small smile graced his lips. "Tell him that I will see him in about fifteen minutes. Also, Mrs. Laura, you can go home now. I'm sure if there is anything else that needs attending to, it can wait in the morning."

"Or your little Chick-a-Dee will probably clean it up," Mrs. Laura informed him. Both Ryan and the housekeeper laughed. "All right, Sunshine, I'll go home. Have a good night baby."

"Yes ma'am, you have a good night yourself."

Ryan took the earpiece away from his left ear and then he placed the receiver back on the phone's cradle. His straightened his upper body as he inhaled a deep breath. He felt his anger raise. He exhaled as he gazed at the fireplace. He viewed the defunct fireplace while he tried to reign in his anger. Since late April, Ryan had worked on controlling his anger with the help of his psychiatrist. So far, he believed that he had that raging beast under control.

'Get it together, Whittler' his conscience suggested. 'If you go downstairs and lose it, you can lose everything.' Ryan nodded his head. 'You have to be cool, calm and collected. Think of it this way: you lose your cool and you can lose some millions because you know that little shit will sue you.'

"You damn right," he mumbled.

"Honey?" It was Kali. He looked over his left shoulder and he stared at the massive bed that was behind him. In his peripheral view, he saw his fiancée sitting up in their bed. "Is everything all right?" she asked him.

Ryan turned around and fully stared at his girlfriend, the mother of his unborn child. He ogled his beautiful woman for a few seconds before he left the lounge area. He traveled over to the platform and then to Kali's side. He sat on the edge of the mattress with his back facing his fiancée. Twenty seconds after he sat down, he felt her pregnant belly graze his back and then her hands massaging each of her arms. Her soft, warm and moist lips kissed at several of his scars before she spoke.

"Baby, are you all right?" she asked him.

Her voice was still husky with slumber. Her warm breath tickled the back of his neck. Ryan's cock made a gentle spasm as the blood in his body traveled into his sex with the slow speed that was similar to water drifting in a creek.

"Um..." Ryan groaned while he scratched his scalp. Afterwards, he rested his elbows on his knees while his upper body leaned forward. "I am fine, baby."

"You sure?" she asked. Kali's hands caressed the flesh on his arms and shoulders. Her hands' ministrations caused his dick to throb.

"Yes, I am sure..." His fingernails lightly scratched at his scalp again. "Listen, baby, I have someone waiting for me downstairs."

"Oh, okay baby," she murmured. "Well, if you need to talk about something, you can talk to me."

He felt his heart dole out a few hard thumps against his chest. He sat upright and then grabbed a hold his fiancée's hands. His fingers entwined with hers. He gazed down at the engagement ring that decorated her finger.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

"You're welcome baby."

He gave each of her hands a kiss before he let them loose and then he stood up. He sauntered over to the other side of the room. He intuited that his girlfriend was ogling him as he walked towards the dressing chambers. Actually, he felt her eyes glowering at one specific part of his body.

"Stop objectifying my ass!" he announced as he walked closer to the closet's entrance. He listened to Kali chuckle and then toss out a series of catcalls towards him.

"Ay yi yiy yi," she squealed. "Yeah, shake that ass baby!" she cheered.

Before one of Ryan's feet landed on the second floor of his home, he heard the raucous noise that Carlo and his guests made on the first floor. 'Fucking Carlo,' his brain muttered in disgust. He strolled down the corridor to the staircase that led to the first floor. On his descent, there was the noise of an object shattering. It caused Ryan to pause. He glared down at the foyer. His right hand held a strong grip on the bannister. He squeezed the thick piece of wood and imagined that the object was Carlo's neck.

"Fucking asshole..." he mumbled before he resumed his descent down the marble stairs. "He comes into my home..." With every footfall from his sneaker-clad feet, his anger grew to a new level. "... The fucking prick disrespects Mrs. Laura..." Ryan made it down the stairs and he landed in the foyer. He noticed that the noise that Carlo and his guests had increased in volume.

"OH MY GOD, I AM IN A BILLIONAIRE'S HOUSE!" The absurd statement came from one of the women that tagged along with Carlo. Ryan detected the slurring in the woman's voice. He figured that she was either intoxicated off of alcohol or high off of drugs.

"Yeah baby, you are hanging out with some Grade-A, prime ballers!" informed Carlo. His voice trembled.

"I KNOW COURTNEY, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! OOOH LOOK AT THIS..." The statement had come from the other woman. Her voice was loud and slurred. A few seconds later, the noise of a fragile object hitting the floor entered the rooms. "...OOOOPSIE, I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THAT ONE!"

Enraged, Ryan growled while his hands formed fists and his teeth was clenched tightly. The discarded oxygen exited his nostrils in a rushed manner. 'Fucking asshole,' his brain uttered. He left the foyer and entered the living room. Once he stepped foot into the living room, he was greeted by the sounds of screaming.

"OH MY GOD, RYAN WHITTLER!" the blond-haired woman screamed while she pointed at him. Then he was welcomed with a barrage of gleeful screaming.

The screaming reminded Ryan of teenyboppers at a rock concert. They stood in front of the marble fireplace. He stared at the two women with an expression of disgust on his face. He didn't bother to try to conceal his opinion.

As they stood in front of the defunct fireplace, he observed them. He thought that they were identical twins at first because their physiques were the same. Both women were bony and looked as if they were emaciated. In Ryan's opinion, they resembled hookers, thanks to both women's attires. For the woman who stood on the left side, she chose to wear a small, leather miniskirt that showcased her two skinny legs. For her top, she wore a colorful bandeau top that caused her frail-looking torso to be shown off. On her feet, she wore a pair of black, leather stiletto heeled boots. Her oblong-shaped face was gaunt which made her facial features appear too strong. Her waist-long, blonde hair was stringy and unhealthy-looking. He thought that she would've looked almost attractive if she had more weight added to her frame. Her friend was also unattractively thin and scary-looking. Her shorter blond hair was styled as if she had ran her fingers through. Her oval-shaped face was also thinned out and appeared unhealthy. Her thin body wore a strapless, tight white dress. On her feet, she wore a pair of white high-heeled sandals.

'Oh God,' his brain uttered while his soul felt disgusted.

A few months ago, if this would've happened to him then, he knew that his ego would've swelled, as well as, another prominent part of his body. He knew that he would've felt like a rock star. He was aware that if he was the same person, he would've partied with them and eventually fucked one of these broads before tossing her out of his home. Ryan also knew that he wasn't the same man anymore. He was aware that that version of himself was a sad and angry man who used alcohol and acts of degradation as a medication to numb the discomfort that his soul felt. Ryan remembered that that version of him treated people wrong because it provided his fragile ego a temporary boost. He also knew that that man wasn't fully healed. He was trying hard to have that wound not re-open.

Ryan then surveyed his living room. Every lamp and light fixture was lit in the large and highly-decorated room. He noticed that there were fragments of porcelain sprinkled on the hardwood floors. He scanned the broken pieces and realized what the objects used to be. Both objects were vases that used to belong to his Aunt Athena. After her death and after her mansion was officially in his possession, he did an extensive inventory of every item that she used to own. During this process, he came across the pair of vases. He was aware that his great-aunt loved the vases. Every time she and Ryan moved to a new location, she brought those items with them. He liked them as well, which was why he still had the vases in his possession. As he stared at the pieces, he felt a strong sense of loss. The idea that he just lost the last reminder of his deceased relative entered his mind.

Then, the feeling was replaced with a feeling of rage. An image of punching Carlo in his mouth was seared into his brain.

"RYAN, IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU CAME DOWN HERE, YOU SKINNY MOTHERFUCKER!"

Ryan glared at Carlo. There was a wide, toothy smile on his sweaty, pale face as he stared at Ryan with a pair of dilated eyes. The shorter man was sitting in a high-back chair that was six feet away from the living room's entrance. He sat in the antiquated chair with his left leg crossed over his right leg. His arms rested on the chair's armrests. His right hand cupped a glass. There was a clear liquid substance inside of the glass. Ryan smelled the vodka from where he stood. Carlo sat in the chair as if he was trying to convey that he held power and authority. Ryan thought he looked pathetic.

"OH MY GOD!"

Ryan's eyes focused on the two women again. The woman with the long, blond hair pointed at him.

"I've seen you before! You were in L.A. not too long ago! You were at Samurai and you were with a few friends of yours! You even came over to my table! Do you remember me? I'm Yvette! You—

"OH MY GOD!" her friend screamed while she trembled. Ryan thought her trembling reminded him of a small Chihuahua.

"You came over to my table and you picked out a few of my friends to hang out with you..."

"OH MY GOD!" the short-haired blond woman screamed again.

"...my friends told me that you had partied with them before you had taken them back to your place! They said that you'd fucked the shit out of them..."

"OH MY GOD!"

"COURTNEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Carlo roared at the short-haired woman. Ryan glared at Carlo. He felt his former friend's anger. The sudden and unneeded outburst just further proved to the father-to-be that Carlo was under the influence of some type of drug. The woman also felt the diminutive man's rage because her facial features morphed into a mask of fear. She glanced at Carlo and then she whimpered.

Carlo stood up. "Hey my man," he greeted Ryan as he strolled up to him. Once he was closed enough, he reached out and slapped the taller man on his left bicep. The noise from the strike echoed in the room. The action caused Ryan to make a subtle grimace. "Long time no see, man," stated Carlo, who was oblivious to the slight pain that he caused Ryan. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in months! You haven't called me, man..." Carlo paused and then sniffled as well as scratched at the tip of his nose. "But, I have been reading about you man. I heard that you were engaged to that sexy, model bitch. Then I heard that you two had broken up—

"We did break up—

"Get-the-fuck out of here..."

Ryan groaned. 'All right, motherfucker...' his brain grunted in annoyance.

"...Well, fuck her, you were too good for her anyway. As a matter of fact..."

Carlo turned slightly away. He stared at the two women. He snapped his fingers twice and then pointed at the woman with the long hair.

Ryan watched the woman's eyes bulge for a second and then a broad smile appear on her face. He believed that she behaved as if she was just picked to receive a prize. He thought that she was going to act like an enthusiastic contestant who was picked to play on "The Price Is Right".

She let out a giggle and then she pranced over to where Carlo stood. The shorter man grabbed her left bicep and violently flung her towards Ryan. The thin woman slammed against the broader and taller person. She made a squeak upon impact. She lost her balance and she was about to fall towards the floor. Her descent was halted, when she grabbed by her arms. Once she realized that she was being held up, she stared at the large hand that gripped her right bicep. Her eyes stared at the thick wrist and then his forearm. Her eyes ended up taking a trip and their journey ended when they landed on her rescuer's face. She gazed up at Ryan.

"Oh," she gasped. "You're quite the gentleman!"

Ryan's green eyes stared sternly at her face. "Not quite," he said to her.

Her dark blue eyes widened and her thin lip formed an 'o'. "Oh," she gasped. "You have a sexy voice."

Ryan rolled his eyes, in response. He quickly helped her to her feet and then he released her from his hold. He rubbed his hands against his sweatpants as if he had some unsavory substance on his palms and fingers. He felt a sense of guilt after he touched the woman.

"...Fuck her and forget about that other bitch! Matter of fact, fuck all of these ungrateful bitches that are out there!" declared Carlo. His harem of waifs cheered in response.

'Fuck this shit,' Ryan groaned.

Ryan had dealt with enough. His anger was about to be unleashed. He wanted to go back to his bedroom and cuddle up to his fiancee. He wanted to rest his head on her ample chest and listen to her heartbeats while her fingers played with his hair. He wanted to mold his hands against the swell of her stomach and feel his unborn daughter move. He wanted to listen to his fiancée giggle and laugh at his jokes. He wanted to go back to his sanctuary. He believed that he should've been upstairs in his bedroom instead of downstairs in his living room, at this time of night. He thought that he should've been with his family and relaxing. And this motherfucker was getting in Ryan's way.

"All right, you guys have to leave," announced Ryan. He was greeted with sounds of disbelief from the three uninvited guests.

Carlo slurred out, "No way, what are—?"

"I have company," he informed Carlo.

The woman who stood in front of him had walked closer to him. She placed her hands on his chest. She stared at him with an aura of lust displayed in her eyes. Ryan glared at the woman.

"I don't mind," she said to him with a slight shake of her head. Her voice was soft and sensual. Her hands started to caress his shirt-covered chest. "I've done threesomes before—

"Get your fucking hands off of me," Ryan growled. His voice lost the soft cadence and the femininity. His command was created with a raw and bass-infused tone. "Or you won't have those fucking bony claws that you call hands anymore."

Ryan saw the woman's eyes bulged. He felt her fear. Her hands dropped off of his chest. With her wide eyes focused on him, she slowly backed away from him. She stared at him as if he was the Devil himself.

His eyes left her and focused on the other two interlopers. "Everybody, leave" he announced.

He watched both Carlo and his date Courtney stand still. 'What-the-fuck, did I speak Japanese to these assholes?' Ryan growled.

"EVERYBODY, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Ryan stepped forward. He began clapping his hands obnoxiously. "ALL RIGHT EVERYBODY, GET THE FUCK OUT! LET'S GO..." He continued to clap. "COME ON, LET'S GO!"