Page 34 of Mariposa
“War,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.”
I gulp while fleeting sorrow runs through me as all the different scenarios flood my mind on how someone could get that close to Beast.
I nod in acknowledgment.
“I’ve been in for almost twenty years. I’ve watched countless friends die. I’ve held them in my arms as I watched them take their last breaths.” I shiver as I picture a skull-masked Beast holding onto his teammates. I’ve never seen him wear it, but from what I know, he only does during operations.
“Some of us get to make it back home. Return to our daily lives, but our minds are still in a warzone.”
He spews each word like trying to get me to run or quit.
“You don’t scare me. I know what I signed up for, Master Sergeant.”
I swallow as he inches closer to me, and those damn butterflies flock away inside.
“I know you better than you think.” There’s a husky edge to his voice.
“How so?” I quirk a brow.
“You’re not a shark.”
And there he goes again, trying to get under my skin and in my head. I thought he was finally warming up to the idea of me passing, but I was wrong.
He continues to stalk forward, and I take one step back, gripping the towel tighter. The tension is thick with burning glares from both of us. I’m getting sick and tired of him and his rants.
“You’re not cut out for this field. You’re prey. Bait.Smalland weak-minded. I had to step in and protect you. Everyone circles you?—”
“And then they end up on the floor bleeding in regret,” I interject. “I didn’t need you to protect me or fight for me. I had it under control.” He looks down at me, and I watch his Adam’s Apple bob.
“You could drown in this military world. It’s dark and unfair, and then it’ll be my son who picks up the pieces!”
Is he not hearing me? How dare he? A shot of adrenaline hits my heart, and I’m done biting my tongue. He may scare me and everyone around him, but I’m not going anywhere.
“Adam and I aren’t together anymore!”
His eyes grow wide, and a lump hits my throat. He stops breathing for a second as he processes my outburst.
“He didn’t tell me.” He raises his chin.
“I know he didn’t, because you guys don’t talk, do you?” I retort. I’m being unforgiving, but maybe he needs a dose of the medicine he ruthlessly gives me.
“I don’t need anyone’s help to pick up my pieces because I don’t break. I don’t shatter. I don’t quit. I don’t need Adam. I don’t need anyone’s help. I can do this alone, like I’ve been doing from the start. My mother left. My father is dead. My grandmother is here, but she isn’t here at the same time because her Alzheimer’s and cancer are taking her away. I’m my ownfamily,sir.” I spit the last word out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish my shower because tomorrow is the last day here, and I intend to get a good night’s rest before PT in the morning.” I uncover my body, removing my towel, no longer caring. My full breasts fall free, and my nipples harden. My brows knit together in defiance. He clenches his jaws and locks his mismatched eyes on my brown ones, refusing to look elsewhere. The tattoos on his biceps flinch when he flexes. “Maybe in your eyes, I’m not good enough to be here, but I’m going to try like hell to prove it every day I wear that uniform.”
With the towel clenched in my hand, I stretch my arm forward and drop it. He watches my hand open, and it falls right beside his combat boots. I take one step back and turn around so he can see my backside.
I close my eyes and let the water run down my face. I scratch my scalp gently with my nails and hum when the soreness starts to subside.
“I’m not done with you,” he growls. “Put your towel back on.”
“No.” I cup my breasts, kneading them until my nipples harden.
He doesn’t move. I can feel him prolonging his stare. I peer over my shoulder, meeting tortured emotions in the vibrant emerald shade and silver flecks in his other iris. I don’t miss how his breathing has shallowed and how he flicks his sight on my lips.
He wants to look at me—to stay here.
“You should go,” I breathe, running my hands down my stomach.
“I should.”
