Page 18 of Mariposa
My shoulders deflate.
Booker cuts in, sauntering over to Master Sergeant.
“Beast. It’s going to take her four hours,” he says in a low voice, attempting not to draw any attention from students, but I can still hear him. He runs his hand over his mustache while he has his back to me, but Beast keeps his vision zeroed in on my face. I remain in the position of attention, deadpanning.
Master Sergeant glances at his digital watch, lifting his left wrist and pursing his lips nonchalantly.
“Well then, she’d better get started.” He steps closer to my face, looking down at me like I’m a bug he wants to squash underneath his boot. “Or would you like to quit, Isla?” His voice deepens.
The mask I’ve trained myself to wear when he’s around is on and not going anywhere, even though I’m trembling on the inside. A bead of sweat rolls down my cheek and off my chin when I shake my head.
“I don’t quit, Master Sergeant.”
He clicks his tongue, pissed off, and stares at me hard for what feels like hours. He wants me to fold. He wants me gone so bad, and I’m not giving it to him. I can feel the attention ofevery single instructor and student on us. I know most of them are hoping I’ll take it back, give him the finger, and walk away from the course for good, but this gives me another opportunity to prove why I belong here.
“Begin,” he huffs.
His hands fall to his side as he stalks away. His footsteps thunder as he leaves. The tension between us is so palpable I feel it in my bones.
First, he let me drown. Now? Four hours of burpees with a fifty-pound rucksack on? He really does want me to die or get really fucking close.
9
KADE
SIX MONTHS UNTIL GRADUATION
I’m hard on her, but I’m hard on her for a reason. She is an astonishing woman with a positive spirit and an infectious smile. She’s strong, but she hasn’t met her limits yet. I’ll keep pushing her until she breaks, and I’ll build her back up stronger when she does. Like I’ve done with each one of my students before her. But there’s one major issue.
She isn’t breaking, and it’s frustrating as fuck.
She’s full of ambition, strong, resilient, and most of all…breathtakingly beautiful.
I’m not talking about her looks, even though everyone looks at her when she enters a room. She’s alluring in how she breathes, talks, and in how she shows kindness and grace when she doesn’t have to. She manages to carry and balance all those things on her shoulders while fighting her way through the school with strict restrictions on herself. Her intelligence and knowledge leave every cadre and me stunned.
I can see why my son and she have been together for as long as they have. She’s breathtaking and devastatingly hard to ignore, and fuck, how Ineedto ignore her.
How am I supposed to ignore her when everything about her is gravitating? I hate the way I notice all the little details about Violet Isla. The complex color of her light brown eyes with golden flecks. How she only has one dimple. I caught it when she laughed at something Booker said. She’s so determined, with a fire ready to burn her own world for her country if she has to. She never quits. She’s everything the Army needs.
I take a drag of my cigarette and blow it into the air. I know I may seem like a miserable piece of shit that doesn’t want to see her or any of them pull through, but it’s not my truth. I’m hard on them for a reason. I need them to be prepared for what I’ve seen and what war is like. Deep down inside, I know I can’t protect them from it, but I can try.
I only have a year left until retirement, and I’m not looking forward to what civilian life holds for me. I like my team. My job. My career. It’s all I’ve done for the past nineteen years, and I’m proud of my accomplishments. Still, the scars I hold forever took pieces of me.
The worst scars are the ones you can’t see—the ones imprinted in your soul and the ones you take to your grave.
Who would want a man full of scars with stories that turned me into a cold-blooded man?
It’s two in the morning, and I can’t sleep.
I’m on the beach, staring at the waves, trying to let the ocean drown out the heaviness I carry daily, but all I hear are gunshots, bombs, and my men screaming. The sounds of war curse me, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to escape them. I’m lost inside my head with my black boots in the sand.
I get lost and zone out sometimes whenever I see fire. One minute, I’m here, and the next, I’m pointing a gun at my skull.
Damon Hawk always comes back to haunt me. He was a kid when he joined the military. He used to be one of my students but didn’t make it through the last stage to become a GreenBeret. He was a great soldier. Always on time, strong, intelligent, no bullshit kind of man.
The night he lost his life…I was there.
Terrorists captured him, and he was in their grasp for months. At that time, we were confident we were going to rescue him. SEAL Team Executioners and my team were assigned to work together…the best teams in the world were there that cruel night.
