Page 5 of CJ

The weather was getting worse by the minute, and she would most likely be spending the night alone.

“Welcome to my world,” she whispered to herself.

CHAPTER THREE

“Stay in pairs,” yelled CJ from the walkways above the specially designed scenario. “That’s it. Keep your hand on his shoulder.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said one of the men. “Why am I doing that? He’s a lot taller than me, and I feel like I’m trying to look around him.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s taller than you or not,” said CJ. “If you have the time to think about that and line yourselves up appropriately, great. But it doesn’t always work out that way.

“He’s your eyes, and you are his ears. He’ll lead, you follow. If you trust your partner, that’s what happens. Keep your hand on the shoulder, and if you see something, jerk him left out of the direction of whatever you’re seeing. Stay slightly to his right so that you can see around him. The whole exercise is designed so that the two of you operate like a well-oiled machine. Do it again!”

Over and over, they walked through the scenario, making it as real as possible and covering every imaginable outcome.

“Chow!” yelled CJ.

They made their way to the amazing cafeteria at Quantico, sitting together to enjoy lunch. The men with the FBI and the Marines liked CJ, and more than that, they respected him. His reputation on the Teams and his impressive size and physique didn’t hurt.

“Making any headway with that hot neighbor of yours, Abbott?” smirked one of the FBI instructors.

“I told you, she’s engaged, although the guy seems to be a real dick. He always seems to be picking a fight with her. He’s a Ranger. I figured out who he is from his uniform. It’s strange he hasn’t figured out who I am. Or maybe he has, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

“Don’t you Special Forces guys stick together,” smirked another man.

“Normally. Which is what makes this guy weird.”

“What’s his name?” asked one of the Marines.

“Tim. Tim Weathers.”

“Weathers?” frowned the Marine.

“You know him?”

“Yeah. I know him. He’s a total fucking asshole. His teammate was killed, and within a week, he was banging the widow.”

“Wait. What? No, he’s engaged to my neighbor.”

“If he is, he doesn’t understand the meaning of engaged,” said the Marine. “I’ve seen them a million times at a local bar. I don’t know what your neighbor looks like, but this woman has the look of someone who knows her way around a scalpel and needle if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” whispered CJ.

“What are you gonna do?” asked Perkins, the FBI instructor.

“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t feel like I should stick my nose in their business, but fuck, that sucks. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“She’s gonna get hurt, brother. Maybe you can find a way to let her know what’s happening.”

“Maybe,” frowned CJ.

For the rest of the afternoon, he couldn’t focus on his work. CJ never allowed anything to take away his focus, but realizing that this woman was going to be hurt made him sick. Nothing was making sense to him, and his heart was cracking in two for Jill.

Finishing their day of training, he decided he would speak to her. When he knocked on the door of the condo, no one answered. About twenty minutes later, he saw her pull up. He reached for the doorknob and then sat back down.

“No. No, I can’t hurt that woman,” he said, shaking his head. A few minutes later, he saw Tim’s truck pull up, and there was a woman seated beside him.

“Fuuuuck,” he muttered.