Page 7 of Brutal Collateral

“Hadleigh, please. You can trust me.”

I hate not knowing if that’s true. Cherise just turned twenty-eight, the top age limit to attend BUD/S. This is her last shot, I can’t mess up her head.

At twenty, I can try again. My recruiter said he’ll make sure I’m invited to every challenge. He wants bragging rights that he recruited the first woman SEAL.

“First, I need you to know,” I choke out. “This doesn’t really have anything to do with it.”

Softly, I tell Cherise what happened on the platform, the fight, the threats, and the hot Irish guard who stopped me from becoming a statistic. Even if that security guard wasn’t there, Miller wasn’t getting into my pants unless he punched me and knocked me out.

“Who was the guard?” Cherise asks, sounding like she’d never seen him either.

Although now I can’t imagine how I could have missed seeing a man so utterly stunning. Even with brain fog.

I glance behind me. “He said we’re not supposed to know they’re around. Cher, we’re not the first women to be threatened here.”

“Where is he now?”

“Back in the shadows, I guess.” I brush my arms.

When pain radiates up my bicep from the obstacle course and Miller’s blows, I yank my hand away and notice a large, dark bruise forming on my skin.

Evidence... My motive...

“What happened on that surf challenge?” Cherise asks me like an interrogator, calm and smooth.

After a breath, I close my eyes and start spilling. “He stuck me in the back of the raft, so I had to do all the steering. The waves were so rough. My arms were ready to fall off. The salt was stinging my eyes. I didn’t see those sharp rocks at the southern basin until it was too late. Miller tried to push me into the water, and I know that’s not part of the drill. I fought back and we overturned. I saw his hands and thought he was swimming toward me. I swam away, fearing for my life.”

Cherise gawks at the ominous waves. “The undertow thereisdeadly.”

“No kidding,” I bark and open my eyes to look around, but neither the instructors nor the Masters-at-Arms standing nearby on the beach notice.

“Did you drive your raft right into the rocks?” Cherise asks me point-blank.

“I tried my best, but he wasn’t helping. At all. I’m convinced hewantedus to crash.” And I knew in my bones he’d let me drown.

But me giving up and letting us crash was no accident. The Greek rage that flows through my family’s veins rose up in me. It was purely self-defense. Only, I’m here on the beach, andMillermight have drowned instead.

I swam to the shore and called out for help. One of the master chiefs sent the dive team to look for Miller. With no body cameras and no one else in the raft, it’s his word against mine—ifhe’s recovered. There’s a strict code of honor here, commanders and instructors would never for a minute suspect foul play.

EMS treated me for hypothermia and saltwater poisoning while I vomited and explained what happened, no further questions asked.

When they saw I was fine, they rushed into the water to save Miller. Me, forgotten.

“What are they saying back at The Center?” I ask, my stomach feeling queasy again.

Cherise stares warily at the crowd forming on the shoreline. “I’m like you, I don’t socialize with these—”

“Don’t... They’re not all bad.” I respect these guys and don’t take their hazing personally.

In fairness, they haze each other just as much. Miller is a bad seed who sullies the guys because they don’t call him out on his extra vile shit against me and Cherise.

“Cher, this is taking too long. Do you think he’s dead?”

She opens her mouth but steps away with her hands behind her back. “Sir.”

A senior instructor gives me a once-over. “You’re looking a little pale again, Lieutenant. Go to medical. Broussard, escort her.”

“Yes, sir.” I spin around and fight to stay vertical as I walk off the beach. “What do I do, Cher?” I ask, grabbing her hand.

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