Can't Save Me

Prologue: Grant, Two Months Earlier

The last of a dying breed.

At least that's what I felt like. I tried to keep my sigh to myself as I raised my third or fourth glass of bourbon to my lips. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't be caught dead in a dingy, smoggy strip club like I was currently in, but when the last of your buddies decides to tie the knot, you do what you have to do.

"To Snyder!" Mike exclaimed, raising up the rocks glass in his hand causing the other six in our group to do the same. "And to one vagina forever!"

The guys all laughed and clinked their glasses while I just rolled my eyes and took down the remaining amber liquid in my cup. Despite the fact that I was currently single, I'd actually been the first to get married. Before I'd even met most of these idiots. Freshly graduated, newly enlisted, and as bare faced as a newborn baby, intent on spending my life with the same girl I'd dated since grade school. We got married in a courthouse shortly before my first deployment. We loved each other, sure, but it had more to do with making sure she was taken care of while I was away. And being young and maybe not fully understanding what that kind of commitment entailed.

Being married to a career military man wasn't easy, and it sure as shit wasn't what Gwen thought she was signing up for with me. We battled from afar on more than one occasion, but every time I came home, we fell right back in love. Or at least that's how it went for a while anyway. By the time we were in our thirties and had two kids, we were on the verge of divorce. She wanted me to leave the Marines and I wasn't willing to. She stayed for a few more years, until our kids were grown and out of the house and then filed. She died before I could even put a pen to the page. A drug overdose. Pain medication I didn't even know she had been struggling with. A huge part of her life I had apparently missed. It had been almost ten years now, and I still hadn't found it within myself to move on.

I'd now been a retired Marine Commander for almost two years. Acclimating back to civilian life hadn't been easy, but I had the boys, most of which I'd served with at one point or another. Mike, Snyder, and I got together and purchased a bar so at least I had something to keep myself busy with, and considering we were close to opening our third location, busy was an understatement.

"You're the only one left."

I turned as Snyder sank into the barstool next to me and the bartender poured me another glass. I gave him a nod. "Not sure it counts considering I was married," I retorted, taking my first sip.

"How long you gonna punish yourself?" Snyder asked with a sigh.

I narrowed my gaze at him. "Pardon me?"

"Gwen's been gone for ten years, man. Have you even gone on a date since then?" Snyder took a swig from the bottle in his hand, his gaze not even faltering.

I scratched my fingers through the two-day shadow that covered my jaw. "Can't say I've even really thought about it."

"Bullshit," Snyder immediately fired back. "Ain't no way a man who hasn't been laid in ten years hasn't thought about it."

I scoffed and gave my head an amused wave. "You're assuming too much there, bud."

"So, you're not an asexual robot alien man," Snyder smirked. "Good to know."

I rolled my eyes. "How about you worry about the state of your own dick, huh? I hear you're about to have one pussy for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, but at least it's a good one."

I grimaced. "That's my fucking sister, you troll."

Snyder snickered as he rose from his seat. "You're the one that set us up."