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Chapter 7


People tell me I’m rough around the edges, and I like being that way. Leave the sensitivity for other girls. I’m true to myself, who I am, and with no apologies about it.

Drive, goals, determination, achievement. Those are the four words I’ve lived by my entire life. I learned at a young age the world doesn’t always give you what you want, or even what you need. So I knew early on that what I wanted, or felt I needed, I’d have to work my ass off for. And I did. I watched myself begin to rise to the top. When I was almost there, the world went to hell. I mean literally. When that happened, I was on the brink of the best (and most realistic) career goals I’d had for myself, and suddenly, that didn‘t matter anymore.

I had no room and no time for the more personal goals. I knew what I wanted required sacrifice, and I easily gave it without question. My family, my friends, even coworkers always tried to give me sage-like advice, and I brushed it off. My biggest regret is hearing their words when it was too late. I learned only after that life is nothing without the personal connections, touches, that make it special.

And the ironic thing about it all? I have too much time for my personal life now, and my former achievements now mean jack shit.



Monday, April 9, 2012
4 days before Infernal Friday

The fitters were fluttering around her feet as she stood on a pedestal. They were trying to make sure the hem of the dress was just right as she just scowled down at all the frilly attention. She rolled her eyes and glanced at her giddy friend who had caused all this trouble. “Remind me to tell my brother he’s so dead, Kelly.”

The other woman just giggled with excitement as her strawberry-colored hair bounced with a shake of her head. “Riley, relax. Chase and I both adore you for being the Maid of Honor at our wedding.”

“You better. You know how I feel about dresses.”

“Yes, heaven forbid you don one for the sake of your younger brother.”

“Just shows how much I love the dweeb. This can’t take too long, though; I have a report I need to do tonight. This war has really been heating up my career.” And it was true. She had graduated in 2009 and had been doing what she could to make sure she was getting the hot stories for the tiny station she worked for. None of it had gotten her noticed until the war happened. She had come upon the right story at the perfect time. Suddenly, she’d gone from getting pointless fluff pieces with no camera time to actual news. Since then, she’d been making sure she rose higher to success.

“Gotcha. Your job. Is that all you think about, though, Riley? It is all you talk about. And when was the last time you actually took a day off? You‘re working nonstop.”

She shrugged as she pushed a stray blonde lock away from her eyes, readjusting her ponytail. She knew what everyone said. Hell, they told her all the time. She needed to focus less on her career and more on her personal life. Maybe they were even right, but she was so close to getting what she wanted. So much so that she could taste it. Now wasn’t the time to slow down just for the sake of something as frivolous as dating.

Perhaps how she had been raised had something to do with it. She was the middle child of five and the only girl of the bunch. Her mother had died soon after her youngest brother was born, when Riley Blake had only been six years old. Chase, the one getting married, was the second youngest. The line-up was Nathan as the oldest, then Randy, herself, Chase, and, lastly, Tommy. Being raised with four boys would have been enough to make her a tomboy, but her father had lost their mother to childbirth and struggled to raised them as a single parent, never remarrying. She’d thought before she might be more soft, more sensitive, if she had had her mother growing up. But she hadn’t and, in the end, had learned anything she cherished could be taken away, and that if she wanted something, she’d have to fight for it.

So she had, and it had gotten her far.

“Riley, hellooooo, you alive?”

She laughed, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, still breathing.” Riley hated dresses, skirts, with a passion. She wore makeup, but outside of stage makeup for work, very lightly. That and the whole setting made her feel uneasy. It was just weird seeing Chase get married. That same awkward, scrawny, towheaded boy she’d beat at wrestling was now twenty-two years old and a man by all rights, now making the biggest commitment of his life.

This wasn’t the first time she was seeing one of her brothers marry. Actually, it was the third. Now she and Tommy were the only single ones left. She wasn’t exactly sure how to take that yet. Her friends had all gotten married as well. Many were saying that “at her age,” she should start thinking about settling down with someone.

And that was the problem. She didn’t feel ready. She loved independence, mostly. And they talked as if twenty-five was old. Riley felt that was far from true. Yet there were times when her heart betrayed her. When she’d feel a random pang of loneliness and wish she could find that one guy. Like right then. She was getting a bit tired of being the bridesmaid, never the bride. Of course, she’d never admit that.

In the end, all she would do was work even more, until the pangs went and faded away. It never fixed anything, but it helped her ignore it quite well.

It was odd for a journalist to say, but for Riley, sometimes ignorance was bliss. Even false ignorance.

***

“This is Channel Three News, with your news, your way. There have been marked threats for the US to back down, that we only have a week to settle. We have been trying to reach McCain’s advisors for a comment on how they plan to deal with such a threat. All that’s been received is this statement: ‘This country will not be terrorized into a position we don’t want. We will do what we need to, to keep our people safe.’ We‘ll update you further as more information comes in. And now we have Riley Blake with the war on the local front. Riley?”

“This is Riley Blake, for Channel Three News, reporting live from MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa Bay, where a prototype jet, rumored to revolutionize air combat, has just been through a series of tests.”

The camera followed her as she walked along the base, taking in the men training around her. She casually approached one of the officers, who knew she would be arriving. “I have Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Richardson here with me. Colonel Richardson, just what will these planes be used for, specifically, and how will they change the war?”

“Well, Miss Blake…”

The military man before her was attractive, and no doubt when her friends saw her report, they’d ask if she had tried to flirt or ask for his number. He had dark, raven-shaded hair, pretty green eyes, and a Southern tone that was almost soothing. But it didn’t do anything for her. And even if it had, she didn’t have the time for a personal life.

The interview went on, as most of hers did. She put on her happy face and did her thing for the camera, asking the set of questions and getting the answers she knew would make the story as good as she hoped it would be. The entire setting was second nature for her, really. This was what she was meant to be doing; she knew it.

It seemed so wrong that a war which had torn the world apart had helped her life. But it had. As a firm believer in karma, Riley knew what went around came right back around. She only prayed her own profit from the blood-soaked war wouldn’t come back to bite her later.

***