Semper Fi

Chapter 1: The Storm Walks In

The rain comes down in sheets, hammering the pavement like a war drum. The gutters are already overflowing, the water swirling with oil and cigarette butts, broken glass glinting under the flickering neon of the street signs.

The city smells like wet asphalt, burnt coffee, and desperation.

It’s late—past the hour when good men go home and the broken ones stay out.

Inside The Bluebird, the air is thick with cigarette smoke and lies. The hum of conversation mixes with the low thrum of jazz spilling from the old jukebox in the corner. A song that doesn’t belong in this time. The kind of song that feels like it should be played on a turntable in a world that isn’t burning.

But this world is burning.

And I’ve stopped pretending I can put the fire out.

I lean against the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of bourbon, the other resting near the Glock 19 hidden beneath the counter. It’s a slow night. The usual crowd—smugglers, washed-up reporters, ghosts of men who used to have purpose.

The kind of people who don’t ask questions.

And then he walks in.

The moment the door swings open, every muscle in my body goes rigid.

Nico.

Eleven years.

Eleven years since we joined MARSOC together.

Back before the courts reversed the ruling that had once allowed men like us—lovers like us—to serve proudly.

Seven years since we walked away from the Corps and each other—me to open this bar. Him, to see about a guy he had hooked up with outside of our relationship—an embedded journalist— Miguel. The man he had married, leaving me heartbroken.

I’ve spent every day of those years trying to forget him.

But you don’t forget a man like Nico. And now, here he is.