Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(23)

“You shouldn’t let the scarring deter you. You’ve got a great body,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes. “I assume you noticed that, too.”

“Absolutely,” I reply without hesitation.

“Whatever. You don’t have to lie about it.”

“Do I strike you as the kind of person who tells you anything but the truth?”

“I’m well aware you’d rather be in a firefight than deal with me!”

“I meant that, too.”

She’s staring at me like she either wants to kill me or figure out what kind of alien I am.

“I can’t imagine it’s the first time you’ve heard either of those things,” I add, growing irritated by the tension between us.

“You are such a dick,” she responds. “Pretty sure that’s not the first time you’ve heard that, either, is it?”

Fuck her or leave her. Right now, I’m thinking there’s a third option, one that makes me wish we were in the deserts of Iraq, where no one would find the body.

Every conversation ends this way between us. It’s the reason we shouldn’t be alone together. Ever.

I have the urge to breach the delicate space between us. She’s breathing more quickly. I don’t let myself consider that it might be because she’s attracted to me and chalk it up to being anger. I do realize my hand is on her bare leg and my body is humming with adrenaline and anticipation, the way it does before a mission.

Or before I f*ck a girl I’m insanely attracted to. This is like high school attraction: untamed, burning, and consuming. It’s not like me to feel like I want to lose control with someone, to allow my calm control to be burned up in passion.

A knock at the door makes her jump and jars me.

Katya rises quickly and answers it.

My gaze follows her ass, and I shake my head, standing and moving away.

“I think there are spiders in my bed,” Jenna whispers from outside the door. “Can I sleep with you?”

Oh, hell no.

Katya glances at me. I shake my head. Jenna is too old for this.

“Sure!” she says to Jenna.

Jenna smiles and enters.

Maybe this is a good thing. I don’t say anything but go to the bathroom for a quick, cold shower. When I emerge, Jenna is wrapped in Katya’s arms, and the two are buried under the comforter.

I turn off the lights and lay down. My blood is moving too quickly for me to sleep, and I stare at the ceiling. I don’t know what to think about what passed between Katya and me this evening.

I’m starting to really wish I was back in Iraq, where life is much simpler.





Chapter Ten: Katya


I can still feel his hand on my back the next morning when he all but drags me out of bed at five again. Jenna didn’t pee in the bed? for which I’m grateful, and I bear through the morning drills. There’s no self-defense this time. I’m not sure if I’m happy about that or not, especially when I join in the drills, running laps, circuit training, other shit I’m not a fan of. I can’t help feeling too aware of my limp today. I spent years in physical rehabilitation and am careful not to give any sign of the accident that took away my mother.

The fact that Captain Mathis of all people noticed it …

It’s too personal, like sitting with him on the floor last night, our bodies touching and his warm palm on my thigh. Not that he noticed anything, but I definitely did. It makes me fevered thinking about how close we were together.

Post-morning torture, we go to breakfast and then head to a couple of activities before we’re sent back to our dorms to gather our gear.

Today is the day I’ve dreaded most. We’re going off into the woods to spend the night. No dorms, though I guess there are outhouse style bathrooms. No showers, though.

Ugh. I straighten from packing. I’ve been very studiously ignoring him today, not engaging unless I have to. Self-conscious about my back or maybe in general, I have the urge to crawl inside my shell and stay there.

“You’re taking all that for one night?” Captain Mathis asks from his side of the room.

“Just in case.”

“Just in case what? The world ends?”

I shoot him a dirty look. Everything he’s taking fits into one small pack. His sleeping bag is rolled tightly and attached to the military style bag. I’ve got a suitcase and a sleeping bag almost as big.

“You never know,” I say defensively.

“You can’t carry all that to the site.”

“That’s what your truck is for.”

“We’re hiking, Katya.”

“What?” I face him, suspecting he’s messing with me.

He’s not.

I should’ve asked more questions. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing out here, but everything I do or say is wrong. The others don’t seem to be having issues adjusting like I am.

“You don’t need a suitcase for one night.”

“I don’t have a pack like yours,” I tell him.

His jaw clenches. I turn away, waiting for him to tell me tough luck and to lug my shit there. I’m itching for a fight with him. It might make me feel better after the weird intimacy of last night.

“Both of our stuff should fit in one pack,” he says at last. “Pull out what’s essential, and I’ll put it with mine.”