Cinderella Liberty Read Free

Frontloading, getting the needed work done as fast as possible, was something he'd been taught during his first days in a squadron. It was the best way to enjoy more FOT—fuck off time.
    He stood and ran his hand over his closely cropped hair before planting his cover on his head. He'd have to get a haircut before they left for this det so he didn't start to look shaggy by the end of the trip. Weekly haircuts, no matter what. So it had been since he'd joined. So it would be until he retired.
    Maybe he'd grow his hair out after that. Probably wouldn't go with the mullet that had been so popular when he'd joined, but he'd keep it longer than it was now. It never got long enough nowadays to tell for sure, but he feared he had a whole lot less hair than he used to. Sad but true, but that's what the years will do to a man. He had nothing close to the amount he had when he'd first sat in that chair at Paris Island and the barber buzzed off what had been a nice thick head of dark blonde waves.
    The ladies who used to be jealous of Crash's hair in high school would no doubt hardly recognize him now. The hair may be questionable, but at least he still had the blue eyes the girls used to swoon over back in the day. Though there weren't a whole lot of swooning women lately, time couldn't take those from him.
    It was a short drive from his office at the squadron to the O Club, which was walking, and sometimes stumbling distance from his barracks. He could have walked if he'd wanted to, but it was hot as hell today. Why walk when he could drive in the air conditioning? Not too long from now he'd be sweltering in Afghanistan so he might as well take advantage of whatever moderate luxuries he had here on base, driving privileges included.
    Crash parked his car in the nearly empty lot of the Officer's Club. The place was never crowded unless there was a party being held there. It could be because only officers and senior staff NCOs were allowed to go there. It could be because it was only open Wednesday through Friday and closed at nineteen-hundred, which was pretty damn ridiculous. More likely it was because the places off-base, just outside the gate, were a lot more fun. Particularly the ones that featured poles…and dancers wrapped around those poles.
    Nope. No strippers here at the O Club, but at least there was a pool table and sometimes strategically placed vats of hot chicken wings and fresh popcorn.
    Lack of scantily clad females aside, the Officers Club at New River was pretty nice. The coolest part was the bar area. Squadrons from on base donated different pieces of memorabilia to dress up the place. Tail rotor blades, murals, mugs and the like lined the walls and the shelves behind the bar.
    Crash didn't care what it was that kept other Marines away. All that mattered to him was that it was close by, the beer was cold and fairly cheap, and he could walk home if he needed to. It was a winning combination for him.
    For his buddy too, apparently. Zippy had arrived enough ahead of Crash that he'd had time to get himself a beer already.
    Crash walked up behind him and laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "You know, if you didn't insist on playing that stupid ass word game on your cell while taking a crap, you might not have to go get yourself another phone."
    Zippy twisted on the bar stool to glare at Crash. "Just because you can't spell for shit doesn't mean Words with Friends is stupid, and that's not how it happened anyway."
    "Oh? This was a new and different phone toilet mishap? Do tell." Crash dragged a stool from beneath the bar and propped his ass on it.
    "No. It doesn't matter. Forget about it. Just order yourself something." He frowned and became overly interested in the label on his beer bottle.
    Zippy avoiding the question so vehemently had Crash intrigued. "Well, damn. Now I have to know."
    "No. Drop it." Scowling, Zippy raised the bottle and chugged.
    "Come on. What? Tell me. Were you looking at porn while snapping your