Page 10 of Mariposa
I don’t need their support.
I believe in myself. That’s good enough.
It’s time to prove to my father that his blood runs in my veins. I know he’s watching over me. No matter how many times people try to break me down, I won’t, especially in the course.
The military calls me The Unbreakable Soldier, and I know I can make it through the next year even though my friend, Pete, warned me about one of the most infamous brutal instructors there. He calls him a monster. A devil. A machine. He failed Pete over something that was out of his control, at least that was his side of the story.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and the devil he warned me about is not my instructor…and if he is there, I hope I don’t catch his attention.
5
VIOLET
TWELVE MONTHS UNTIL GRADUATION
Champagne Coast by Blood Orange
Ican’t believe I’m here, and not only have I survived the first few days, but I’m thriving. I’m meeting new people, making friends, and bonding over our situations.
The first week flew by. It was a lot of yelling, paperwork, medical, and shots in my arms and ass, but I’m solid. I’ve never felt so confident or so at home in the Army.
I belong here.
“Everyone, meet your instructors for the next year! Or better known as TAC.” A tall, lean man roars in front of me. A camo green shirt and camo pants cover his fair skin. His gaze is on me for only a second, and then he stomps down the line. He glares at all of us, one by one, sizing us all up like we’re children.
“I’m Sergeant Booker. We are all your teachers, advisors, and counselors. This is Sergeant Slater,” he points to another massive man beside him. He stalks by me, but this time, his glare is so evident behind his sunglasses that I don’t need to see his eyes to know what he thinks of my presence here—the only female in the class. He doesn’t want me here. It’s so apparentby how his stare lingers on my body for seconds that feel like minutes as he balls his fists.
I refrain from cowering. My back stays straight with rigid shoulders and a mindset focused on only one thing—graduating.
He scoffs like he’s disgusted. He walks away and heads towards Sergeant Booker, who continues introducing all the instructors. When Sergeant Slater gives me his back, I smirk. It’s satisfying knowing my existence and perseverance pisses him off. It’s pissed off a lot of people lately. I continue to listen as the sun hits my skin. My olive tone has been tanning deeper since I got here.
“Everyone and their grandmother knows who Operator Grim Reaper is…but it’s not him who the military and our enemies fear. It’s another man with a perfectly polished career. Everyone calls him a devil, and they call him that for a reason.” A man to my left whispers, distracting me momentarily. My brows narrow in annoyance as I try to focus on the sandy-blonde man with a dark mustache. Sergeant Booker walks up and down the line between us, and I stay still, holding back my own curiosity and questions.
“You mean…” another one squeaks beside me.
“Uh-huh…he’s here, too. We’re all fucked.” he grumbles before continuing. “Who do you think trained alongside Grim Reaper? Who do you think taught him all he knows? The devil was created by another.”
“Who?” his friend questions, gloom laced in his lazy tone.
“Operator Beast.”
“But what’s his actual name?”
I roll my eyes, and finally, I snap. I don’t want to get kicked out so soon because I can’t hear Booker’s orders. I just got here. I have a lot to prove, and I will not get kicked on the first day because the men next to me want to engage in gossip.
“Can you guys shut the hell up?” I quip, turning to them.
At first, my gaze meets Willis’s, and his thin pink lips lift into a cheeky, immature, snarky grin. His eyes look me up and down like he’s trying to undress me, and it makes me quiver. He opens his mouth—probably to throw a dirty, misogynistic insult my way—but then his entire demeanor shifts. He pales, tearing his gaze away from me just as a large shadow appears over all three of us.
Someone clears their throat behind me, and I can feel all the hair on my neck standing up. I turn back around slowly, in the position of attention, tucking my hands on either side of my thighs and holding my breath.
“What’s my name, Willis?” The sound of a deep, smooth voice has my heart jumping into my throat. He’s standing right in front of Willis, but I keep my eyes facing the tall, North Carolina evergreen trees in front of me.
Willis’s jaw drops as he takes in the size of the instructor, who hasn’t been introduced yet.
“Now!” he barks out with a vicious tone that makes my blood run cold.
Jesus, is this how it’s going to be? I haven’t even looked at the man yet, but his voice does something to me. It’s deep and husky. I survived basic training, and no one has ever had a tone that made my heart skip.
