Page 8 of What I Should Have Done

“Is that why you acted like such a tool?” I finally asked, facing him again. “And it’s woman, not girl.”

He threw his hands up, turning his palms toward me in defense. “Didn’t want to make you feel old.”

“Oh? So, you’re not sexist at all?” Man, was he irritating, and the likelihood of him ending up sleeping closest to me was very high on the list of possibilities since everyone else picked a spot farther away.

“Not gonna lie, you being a woman isn’t exactly offering me a lot of confidence in not dying out there. Plus, you’ve never been out on an actual combat tour.” His words were slow. As if he’d chosen each one specifically to gauge my reaction. And it took everything in me to hold my tongue. I wanted to lash out, but that would serve no purpose at this moment.

“That’s what’s got you worried? Not wondering why that guy called me ‘squib’?” I quirked a brow and took a deep breath. “There’s nothing else at all?”

He tipped his head back and forth. “Just that. And the fact that you and Dom are gonna both stick out against this very light-tan, sandy background.” A smile twitched at the edges of his lips. Whiplash. One moment he seemed so casual, the next he grilled me, dug at me, and now… What was he doing? But I was not about to back down from whatever twisted game he was playing.

I’d dealt with enough cocky fools since enlisting. He was just another one of them.

“Oh, I get it.” I stepped toward him and poked him in the chest, ignoring how closing that space between us perched him like a towering statue above me. “You’re jealous that I can probably outshoot you and won’t burn like a cherry tomato out here with my beautiful, brown skin.”

He tipped his chin down. His gaze fanned a strange fire roaring deep within my core. “I turn a beautiful golden sheen, never burn, only tan, I’ll have you know.”

“So, why are you out here and not surfing on some beach getting that golden sheen of a tan?”

“Got bored of that. I needed something new. Something…harder.” He raised a brow, and the sticky warmth of the sun had no room to blaze between us. Its heat matched whatever strange stand-off we were toeing in. His shadow swallowed mine whole. I could’ve sworn he felt my heart pounding against my ribcage.

Because I was annoyed.

Right?

“What you’re saying is you don’t stick to anything for too long?” My voice cracked and he noticed, answering with a chuckle.

Ugh… of course he noticed.

“What I’m saying is I’m not scared of a little challenge.” His voice lowered. “I like to think I’m pretty good at winning a difficult fight. They’re more fun.”

I couldn’t seem to swallow. I couldn’t seem to breathe as he remained this towering stone figure in front of me.

He sized me up, challenging me to step and fall into whatever easygoing offer that everyone else around him seemed to take. I had to assume his entire goal was to make me feel comfortable enough to open up to him. And quickly.

But I was not someone who gave in easily, no matter how charming a man could be.

“Hey, Johnson!” a voice shouted through the haze that had encompassed me, suddenly reminding me that we weren’t alone.

Immediately, I shot away as Mikey casually shifted his gaze to the approaching figure. “Sir?” he responded, his face shifting like a butterfly coming out of metamorphosis. Whatever mischievous gleam that had sparkled in his ocean-blue irises was gone, replaced with a calculating intensity that sent a shiver up my spine.

“Glad you’re here too, Corporal,” the approaching soldier said, quickly acknowledging me. “Intel came in, time to gear up. Chopper will be in the air in five.”

And a blaze roared hot in Mikey’s eyes as my stomach plummeted beneath my boots.

Chapter 4

MIKEY

Like white noise, the chopper blades thumped rhythmically in the background. The crisp air twanged with that scent of metal. Familiarity was all around me. Off to do something that I was good at. The one thing that I was good at.

And the timing had never been better. What in the actual fuck was that strange interaction with the new sniper earlier? It stole my balance, despite being the one to steer the conversation. The intention had been to apologize for my reaction earlier. She was not the target of the rage that twisted my soul. However, she was a woman. But then I heard that nickname. Squib. Bernie was as derogatory as they came, but that was something even lower than he’d ever sunk.

“Everyone know the plan?” Dom asked, finishing his instructions. The clank of a magazine reverberated around the helicopter as someone loaded their weapon. Leaning my head back against the chopper wall, I gave a quick nod and rested my rifle against my chest. Out of habit, my fingers tucked beneath the collar of my desert camo shirt and slipped the dog tags over my head. Bernie reached forward with his own tags, ready to toss them into the same container that wasn’t there.

“Not this time,” Dom stated, patting his chest. “They get to stay on.”

Nodding once in confirmation, Bernie retracted his hand as I let my tags fall back around my neck and beneath my tight shirt.

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