Sor (Voodoo Guardians #29)

CHAPTER ONE

“Mark Teller!” yelled Mrs. Vickery.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, lowering his head.

“Mark, you have nothing to be sorry for. Why do you do that? Why do you apologize before I say anything?” Mark gave no response, and Mrs. Vickery seemed to not care for one. “What I was calling your name for was because you made a perfect score on the exam and received full points for the extra credit. Well done.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vickery,” he said with a blush.

“Hey, dude, that’s cool,” said his friend, Freddie.

“I guess,” he shrugged.

It seemed Mark was always apologizing for something, even when it wasn’t his fault. He apologized for being late, even though he was early. He apologized for making the perfect grade, even though it was a congratulatory statement by the teacher. He apologized for being ‘too nice’ for Heather Clark’s tastes, which he never understood.

One apology after another without hesitation. Later that same day, Mark laid his papers on the counter of his family’s kitchen. He did it every day so that his parents could see his work and question him should they want to. They never wanted to. Why would they? He always scored perfectly.

“Another good day, eh, son?” smirked his father.

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

“Mark,” he laughed, “do we need to get you some therapy? You apologize for everything, son. Why are you apologizing for being a great student, a great athlete, a great person?”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, shaking his head. Mark Sr. laughed, shaking his head. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But why?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like sometimes people are mad at me because I do well in school or in sports. It’s like I’m supposed to apologize for being good at what I do.”

“Mark, son. You never have to apologize for being authentic to who you are. You’re a smart, athletic, kind, generous young man. That’s it. No apologies necessary. All those apologies might make people think you’re weak.”

“I understand. Sorry, Dad.”

“Mark,” he frowned.

“See! I can’t help it!”

“Leave him alone, honey,” said his wife. “Mark, you don’t have to apologize, son, but if it makes you feel better to do it, that’s fine. We’re proud of you. Go wash up for dinner.”

Mark bit his tongue, nodding at his parents as he excused himself. His father watched him walk down the hallway and disappear into his bedroom. He shook his head, turning to see the frown on Jennifer’s face.

“I know, I know, I’m too hard on him sometimes,” said Mark, waving a hand at her. “I don’t expect him to apologize for a damn thing. I don’t know why he does that.”

“Maybe he should speak to someone,” said Jennifer. “It does seem a bit excessive.”

“Sometimes,” nodded Mark Sr. “Sometimes, I watch him do it, and it diffuses a situation. Last week at the baseball tournament, some kid got on him about his perfect game and his perfect swing and his perfect uniform. Mark just kept saying, ‘I’m sorry you see it that way. I can help you if you need help.’” Jennifer laughed, shaking her head.

“He’s such a good young man, Mark. I worry about him when he goes off to college.” She heard her son clear his throat, and they turned.

“About that,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. “I’ve decided to go into the military.”

“Mark, but why?” frowned his mother. “I mean, I’m proud of you for wanting to serve your country, but you have offers for scholarships.”

“I know, Mom, and I’m sorry,” he said, smirking at her. “It’s just that I want to do something different. Something better. Something more. I can get my college degree while serving and still do amazing things. I think I want to be a pararescue jumper. I watched this whole video about how these guys drop into the worst locations, save fellow soldiers, Marines, airmen, and they’re great medics. I could get a degree in nursing and emergency medicine, something like that.”

“That’s a lot to take on for an eighteen-year-old man,” said his father.

“I know, Dad. But I’m responsible. I can do this.” His mother stared at his father, then back at him. She nodded.

“Well, we have some time to talk about this. You don’t graduate for another five weeks.”

“That’s just it, Mom. I’m eighteen. I signed the papers and will be leaving for basic training the week after graduation.”

The shocked expressions on his parents’ faces told him they never expected him to do something so drastic without discussing it with them.

“A week? You’ll be gone a week after? But, Mark. We were going to do a family vacation.”

“I know, Mom. But we’ll have time to do that later. This is important to me. I feel it in my bones that this is right for me.”

Jennifer swallowed her fears, staring at her husband. Turning back to Mark, she nodded.

“You’ve never done anything without a lot of thought put into it. If this is what you want to do, then I’ll be the mom handing out cookies at basic graduation.” Mark laughed, hugging his mother.

“Maybe don’t do that,” he smirked. “Thanks for understanding and supporting me. This means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” said his father.

Time felt as though it were moving at warp speed for Mark after that. Basic, pararescue training, jump training, a promotion, more schooling, another promotion. It seemed that he was on the fast track for everything. When his parents died within weeks of one another, he was devastated.

That’s when his bad decisions started.

“Hello, handsome,” smiled the woman at the bar.

“Oh, hello,” he said with a soft blush.

“What can I get you?”

“Just a beer, please.”

“Sure. Why you looking like you lost your best friend?”

“No reason.”

“My name is Cara. First beer is on me,” she said with a wink. “Next one you can buy. After I get off.”

Mark gave her a shy smile and took her up on the offer of the beer after work. Then, it was the offer of taking her home. Then the offer of coming inside her apartment. Then cumming inside of her.

She was pretty, seemed intelligent and driven. She was working toward her real estate license and was hoping to work for a big firm in New Orleans. Since he was stationed in the Gulfport/Biloxi area, it would be an easy commute to see her.

When he received word that he would be deployed for at least six months, he was concerned about Cara’s loyalty. She’d gone ‘out with the girls’ a few times only to come home smelling like cologne, not perfume. She always said it was close quarters, and the men were rubbing up on the girls. But he also never met the ‘girls.’ When he would ask, she would get defensive, and he would apologize.

“Marry me,” he said, staring at her one evening.

“What?”

“Marry me. I’m being deployed, and I want to know that you’re mine.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling at him.

It was the one thing he should have apologized to himself for. Being an idiot.