Breakfast around the campfire is quiet. The awkwardness from last night carried over and everyone is avoiding eye contact with Bradshaw. He has a new mask on today; itâs sharper looking and has rivets on the exterior, still black, but somehow more aggressive with the added texture.
Eren sits beside me, eyes wearier than Iâve seen them. He took two watches last night and is still functioning perfectly. I eat my MRE as I stare out into the forest, thinking deeply about the anguish on Erenâs face last night after I said that Bradshaw and me are the ones easy to throw away once the job is done.
He had become silent and I didnât mind the words that remained unsaid between us for the rest of the watch.
The march back to the extraction site is painful. My thighs ache and my bones cry out with each step. The mountain air is crisp today, fall is setting in quickly up here. Some of the highest peaks even have snow already.
Harrisonâs and Jeffersonâs expressions are significantly lighter toward me today. I wonder if itâs because of how well I shot yesterday or if itâs due to the sad story sharing we did last night. I donât let my mind linger too much on it. No sense in dwelling in Traumaville.
Ian and Pete walk steadily ahead of us, with Eren leading the hostages most of the day, while Bradshaw and me take the rear as usual. We make momentous progress and should reach the extraction point before sundown.
Relief floods through me with the idea of a hot shower and warm sheets.
Bradshaw wonât even look at me. Back to his cold behavior, I guess. But itâs better than his episode last night. At least heâs composed right now. My eyes trace over the smooth lines of his face beneath the mask. I look longer than I should.
The last few hours of the trek are exhausting. Weariness tugs at my eyes and draws heaviness through my aching shoulders.
Bradshaw walks stoically beside me. Itâs as if he doesnât physically tire, ever.
Thereâs a distinct tightness in the air that settles around us. It chokes me like a venomous adder coiling around my throat and waiting patiently for me to die. I want to talk about what we did last night. The brutal parts and the soft, sensual ones. I turn to face him, his eyes instantly lifting to mine and I open my mouth to speakâ â
A bullet flies between us.
My assault rifle rises instinctively and I shout, âShots fired!â The scuffling and grunts that sound from ahead of us distract me momentarily as another bullet flies at us. This time it hits my shin and red powder coats my pant leg.
It stings like an airsoft bullet, but at least it hit me in the leg and not the chest. Iâm still active in the training and not considered a fatality. Yet.
Bradshaw fires into the dark underbrush and itâs followed by a grunt.
After waiting stiffly for a beat to listen for any more enemies, Bradshaw lets his eyes fall down to my leg. Disappointment flashes through his eyes. âYou were hit.â
âYeah, I know, jackass.â
His brows pull lower. âYouâre out.â
âWhat? Itâs just a leg hit. Iâm fine.â I rise to meet his glare. The others come out of their positions and watch our interaction in silence. The air is cold and clammy against my skin as my blood starts to boil.
âI said youâre out, Bun.â
Eren comes up beside me and gives my leg a gruff look. âHeâs right. Our squad takes no faults, Bunny. Youâre out.â
Heat races to my cheeks and I want to scream. Are they serious? After everything I proved to them this month, this is where I fail? I look to the others. Jefferson and Pete stare at me with finality. Ian and Harrison at least look a little bothered by the unfairness of it.
âThatâs not fair,â I say, challenging the sergeant.
His eyes narrow at me and his voice darkens. âBunny, you arenât disagreeing with my authority, are you?â He says it loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. The muscles in my neck flex with rage.
Of course heâd use his authority to try and get me to back down.
âNo, Sergeant. I wouldnât dream of challenging your decision.â My tone is harsh. Erenâs brows ease, feeling like heâs won. âBut my hands are tied. Iâm afraid Iâll need to bring this to General Nolanâs attention. How one of his dogs is feral and has a nasty bite. You think theyâll put the dog down? I am Nolanâs favorite, after all.â I unzip my vest and lift my sweater, revealing the blood-soaked bandages. The wound throbs with the motion, making me wince at the pain.
Erenâs eyes widen with horror. Bradshaw remains impassive; his cold gaze is enough to chill me to my bones. Heâs far scarier when you canât tell whatâs ticking in that mind of his.
âIâll let you think on it, Sergeant,â I say callously. If they want to play dirty, then Iâll play in the fucking mud.
I tuck my rifle under my arm before sauntering to the front of the squad. The men give me disdainful looks as I pass them. Itâs fine. Iâm not here to be cherished like a doll.
Iâm here to find out what really happened in Patagonia two years ago. And to put a bullet in the man responsible for it. The rest is bullshit.
The consensus, apparently, is that Iâm being completely shunned from here forward. The remainder of our mission is quiet and without any more ambushes. When we finally reach the extraction point, my shoulders roll back with relief.
Iâm not sure if my threat worked on Eren or not. But he seems more withdrawn and angry, so at least itâs been weighing on his mind. We both know his brother will likely be thrown to the wolves for attacking a fellow squadmate. We might have different rules in the dark forces, but we hold our value. General Nolan has a soft spot for me and they all know it.
I take a deep breath as I board the helicopter and donât bother looking at any of the cold expressions that surround me. All I want right now is a hot shower and to sleep in a fucking bed for one goddamn night. The ride back to Coronado is long and quiet; everyone but myself, Bradshaw, and Eren seem to find sleep easily.
The second our boots hit the ground, Eren orders everyone to hit the showers except me and Bradshaw. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. This really couldnât wait until tomorrow morning? Weâre all barely holding onto our sanity at this point.
Bradshaw stares at his brother with the same energy as I do.
âYou two have been a huge pain in my ass⦠Look, Nell, the team doesnât want you on the squad. I know that sucks, but we are looking for someone who meets the mission expectations and can bond with the squad. At the end of the day everyone needs to trust each other without a shadow of a doubt. I know itâs not fair to ask, but I am asking anyway. Please. Let this go. Just quit.â Erenâs voice isnât far from pleading.
Show them. Jenkinsâs low voice trails through my memory like a river over stones. Make them see youâre necessary. He taught me how to kill a man in every conceivable way. How to manipulate even the wittiest of minds.
âFine. Iâll give up the spot. But on the condition that you can find a soldier better than me. I want to be on the mock hostile squad. If you guys can overthrow our base and take the captives, then Iâll throw in the towel,â I say confidently and lift my chin.
Erenâs brows raise with curiosity, but he looks at Bradshaw pointedly. âThatâs your best option.â Eren looks tiredâas if heâs been thinking about his brotherâs fate and worrying every single night of his life instead of sleeping. Would I actually report Bradshawâs actions? No. Because Iâve done far worse to people who are now in the ground and will never be found. But to keep control over them is necessary. I need to be here.
Bradshaw looks at his brother for an uncomfortable minute, then gives him one curt nod before turning and walking back to the barracks.
Eren lets out a long sigh and gives me a sideways glance. âFor the record, I voted for you to stay,â he admits with an uneasy laugh.
I consider him for a moment before letting a smile spread over my lips. âThank you, Eren.â His lazy grin sends flutters through my stomach. âI really needed to hear those words.â
He drops his hand atop my head. I look up at him and he chuckles softly. âDonât let them win. Show them like I know you will. I know I need you on this next mission.â He winks at me and I let the sentiment sink into the depths where I need it.
Eren believes in me. Itâs better than nothing.
âNow, go get cleaned up. Iâll meet with the general and have the backup marksman put on the squad. Youâll be assigned to the hostile force weâre invading in the next roll out.â We walk together toward the barracks as he informs me.
âWhere will I stay until then?â I ask, hoping that Iâll be placed in other barracks for the two-day break until then. A weekend away, I guess, if you could consider it that.
Eren firms his lips in thought. âThereâs a spare bed in my room, but Iâll have to chat with the general to see if we have other beds available. If it comes down to that, are you okay with staying with me?â
Iâd rather sleep naked next to Eren than fifty feet anywhere near Bradshaw.
âYeah, just get me away from your psycho brother,â I say vehemently. It draws a frown to Erenâs face and he stares off ahead, darkness clouding his eyes. If only he knew how thoroughly fucked I was last night by his precious brother. You wouldnât know it by the cold shoulder Iâve received all day.
âHeâs never been thisâ ââ
âUnhinged?â I interrupt. âCruel?â
Eren glances down at me beneath those black lashes and his frown is replaced with amusement. âYeah. Heâs never been this interested with his second.â His frown returns.
I feel bad for Eren. He carries the responsibility of not only the squad but also his brother, whoâs cutting new recruits across their ribs and being unreliable.
âItâs because of Abrahm,â I state matter-of-factly.
He nods, staring at the ground as we stop outside the doors. âYes⦠but you being here has made it much, much worse.â
âIâm not trying to replace him,â I say hesitantly. âI just want to be on this mission. Iâll be sent to the Hades Squad if I donât stay on this one. And they hate Riøt more than you guys do. The general would rather release me back into society than send me to them. And I canât go back into society.â It sounds morbid but Eren only nods. Maybe heâs seen the same demon in his brother.
His brow raises with interest. âYouâve earned your cards?â
I swallow. Iâm not supposed to tell anyone that the general was going to sneak me out of the dark forces after Riøtâs demise. But I refused it. I shake my head.
âNo, Iâm just saying I canât go back.â
âDonât sell yourself short, Nell. Youâre more than a weapon.â His words donât reach me in the way he intends.
âNo, Iâm not, Sarge.â
He stares at me momentarily before pushing the door open.
âIâll come get you in an hour for your new room assignment. Have your things packed.â
The squad is lounging in our barrack. Each one of them is spread out in their bed relaxing. It was a grueling month and seeing them in street clothes rather than their tactical uniforms makes them seem like completely different people.
Their eyes all move in my direction, making me feel misplaced in my T-shirt and leggings. I keep my eyes forward as I strut confidently across the cement room toward the last bunk. My bag is right where I left it on the top bed. I grab it, thankful that I didnât unpack anything before we left.
Bradshaw doesnât bother looking up at me. I let my eyes fall to him once more before we part ways. The next time I see him, it better be through a scope as Iâm shooting a mock bullet at his fucking face.
He has a fresh mask on. The black is darker on this one, with gray stripes that run through it vertically. His lashes flutter against his skin, alluding that heâs very much awake and choosing to ignore me. Such beauty is wasted on him, but still, I stare longer than I should. At the redness of the thin scar that curves beneath his left eye. At the grooves in the fabric over his lips as he draws breath. At my bite that drew his blood last night.
Without parting words, I walk back the way I came.
âBye-bye, Bunny.â
The muscles in my legs lock at the sound of his voice and I stop at the door, turning my head enough to look over my shoulder at Bradshaw. Heâs now standing at the other end of the room, his men between us, with his fists clenched and a sinister grin pulling at his mask.
âEat shit,â I say simply, as if Iâm unbothered by this entire fiasco. I knew all his soft touches yesterday were empty, but his cruelness still hurts.
Rage flashes across his gaze and something about that small victory fuels me.
I turn my back to them and wait for Eren down the hallway. He arrives right on the dot, rounding the corner with a light smile.
I swipe my hair back behind my earâwearing it down for the first time all week feels good. The dark strands are wavy down to my mid back.
âYou clean up nicely,â Eren mutters, winking at me.
I give him a weary smile. âSergeant, you shouldnât compliment your subordinates and wink at them. We arenât in the club anymore.â
He throws his head back and laughs.
âSorry, Bunny. Iâm so used to seeing grumpy men. I forget sometimes when I look at you because we met on a plane and itâs all so unfair, isnât it?â Eren motions for me to follow him and I breathe out a sigh of gratitude that Iâm not staying with Malum for the time being.
âUnfair how?â
His grin is contagious as he looks down at me. Thereâs more warmth in his eyes than usual. No one looks at me with kindness anymore. Funny, I canât seem to place the last time anyone had. Perhaps it was Jenkins, with his dying light.
âUnfair that weâre both in this line of work.â
âHow else would you have liked it?â I pry, and it earns me a hearty laugh. My cheeks warm and for a moment it doesnât feel like Iâm in a cement grave anymore.
Eren glances behind us. Curiosity draws my eyes to follow. Pete and Jefferson are standing in the doorway watching us. It seems odd that they would do so, but I try to ignore them.
âI would have preferred if Abrahm had not died. Weâd all be in different predicaments now,â he says thoughtfully as we continue down the hall and turn the corner to another section of the barracksâ wing.
Abrahm. How is it that the death of one man can change the lives of so many?
âWhat would your predicament have been?â
Erenâs jaw flexes as he stops at a door and opens it for me. I step inside and take in the small room. There are two plain beds and two nightstands. Itâs the emptiest room Iâve ever seen, no sentiments or photos. No lingering care items from the mornings or nights.
âPatagonia was our last mission before we were to earn our cards.â He lifts a shoulder and drops it. The cards of freedom. My eyes widen. Malum was on their last mission before their cards? The only underground squad that has earned their cards was Warsaw, and that was ten years ago. Most squads die out before they earn their freedom back.
They were going to be free. Riøt still had six missions to complete before we earned ours.
I set my bag on the bed he points at and let my aching body lower to the mattress. Basic sheets feel so precious after sleeping in bushes for a few weeks.
âLosing Abrahm cost you your cards?â
He sits on the other bed and stares out the sole window. âEverything went to shit after that. Bones was mentally shot and the squad was everywhere. We failed miserably and the general was furious with us.â He stares at me with knowing eyes.
âWe obviously failed too.â My voice is low.
âThis next mission is more than earning our cards, Nell. Itâs revenge. For Bones, especially. I canât get into the details, but we both know it ties in with Patagonia.â
I wince at those words; our goals arenât so different.
âHe has a debt to pay,â I say sadly.
Erenâs eyes flash at me. âYou have one too.â
I lower my eyes to my hands. They donât look covered in blood, but they are. Iâm drowning in the deaths of my first squad. In the death of Jenkins. If I had stayed, heâd still be here. Or weâd both be dead, and thatâs fine too. Why didnât I stay? My eyes slowly shut.
The firm line of my lips is the only answer I can provide him. He doesnât press me further. He knows what Iâve done. The monster that lurks beneath my betraying features.
I lie back in the bed and let out a long breath. The ceiling is tiled here. Just as bland and soulless as the rest of the military base.
âSo when do we start the next training?â I ask, as I absentmindedly brush the tip of my finger across the cut on my ribs. Iâll think of Bradshawâs lustful gaze every time I see the mark, each time I feel it.
Eren notices me messing with my wound and stands, fumbling in his nightstand before approaching me with some clear liquid and supplies.
I sit at the edge. âI already rebandaged, Sergeant.â
He gives me a stern look and I cave, lifting my shirt over my head and tossing it to the side of my bed. My sports bra meets the end of the bandage, so I scoot it up enough for him to easily change the wrapping.
âThe next mock mission starts two days from now at zero eight hundred. Youâll leave earlier with the hostile squad to get a head start toward your base. Same as beforeâfew weeks of training and then weâll try taking the hostages back,â Eren mutters as he gently unwraps the binding around my chest. He slows as he gets to the fleshy, blood-soaked layer. His eyes widen and his jaw clenches.
âNell, we both know that this needs stitches.â His brows furrow. He looks a lot more like Bradshaw when heâs like this.
I lift a shoulder. âYou made it clear that you didnât want anyone to find out. Itâs healing, so donât worry about it,â I say indifferently, and torment fills his gaze. There are a million things on his mind; itâs evident in the tired slump of his shoulders. âYou donât need to feel bad. It wasnât you who carved me open and exposed my breasts to the other squadmates.â
His hands freeze and for a moment I think Iâll watch his mental state shatter with what his brother has done. But he pulls himself together the way heâs been trained to as he dabs ointment on my flayed flesh. I know heâs seen much worse in the field. His touch is soft and caring; if I shut my eyes Iâll be consumed by the comfort of it.
âDonât let him hurt you like this again,â he finally says after a long while of silence. Too late, I muse. He finishes the procedure using suture tape, which might actually work, and wraps my ribs better than I had. Delicate, but secure.
I let my eyes fall to his calloused hands, wondering how many men heâs killed with them. I find solace in his presence. A kind soul thatâs dragging himself through hell. But Eren did something bad to earn his place in the dark forces too. I wonder if heâd tell me what it was.
âWhat if he does hurt me again?â I tease with a probing voice, knowing that our vicious dance is far from over. Iâve never seen death and hatred linger around a manâs shoulders like it does with Bradshaw. Even with his imperfections and his violence, the reaper in me wants to break him as much as heâs sought to destroy me.
Eren fists his hands at each side of me before looking up to meet my cold gaze. âHe wonât disobey my orders again.â His voice cuts out as he lifts his left hand to coast his fingertips across my ribs. âItâs my fault Abrahm died. My fault that Bradshaw is so fucked up.â A single tear rolls down his expressionless face. I wonder if he even knows it slipped. The hard planes of his expression donât allude any emotions.
Eren is scary too, maybe more so than his brother. His ability to put on a facade is chilling.
Our conversation ends with an awkward lull in the room. The energy has gone cold and stale. Eren heads to his bed silently, his thoughts clearly weighing on his mind.
I like the way broken men grieve.
It gives me pause and makes me curious about the harrowing things he still has locked up so tight.
I think tediously about that as I stare at the now dark ceiling. Only Erenâs soft snores from across the room keep the sound of nothingness from stirring my brain.
What could the sergeant of Malum possibly have weighing on his conscience?