A Time for Hope (Lexi, #3)(66)



“Don’t get comfortable. The Corps hasn’t gotten it’s twenty-five yet!” I do believe I saw a ghost of a smile cross the Gunny’s lips. He was trying to psyche us out.

More groaning, more clapping, more shouting and twenty-five more (for the motherf*cking Corps) sit-ups later and I still didn’t know how this constituted “getting to know” each other.

The end of the sit-ups did not mean the end of the torture. Oh hell no. It was quickly followed up with squats, lunges, crunches, calf-rises and pull-ups (executed on a large metal bar that just happened to be bolted to the back wall - not so coincidentally I guessed). Each group of exercises was performed in two sets, one for us and one for the Corps. (I was really beginning to hate the Corps, just quietly. I wasn’t sure why I had to give them anything when they had never done shit for me).

“Ok!” Shouted Manny (I figured he couldn’t hear me call him by his first name in my own head so in mental rebellion I refused to call him “Sir”.)

“Back into formation.” I breathed a sigh of relief thinking he was probably going to tell us that was a wrap, see-you-again-next-week, hit the showers or something similar.

We shuffled back into our original lines, each one of us panting in various levels of exertion. The weariness was evident in the posture of those who surrounded me.

“Let’s do it all again.” Manny smiled. The sadistic, crazy, son of a bitch smiled!

“Is he f*cking with us? Someone needs to tell this guy he’s on Long Island and not Parris Island,” Taylah groaned under her breath. She was right; this guy was on a power trip. Despite being exhausted, her astute observation of being on the wrong “island” was funny and I had to bite my lip to stifle my laugh, I was (regrettably) unable to suppress my smile.

“You got something to say?” Gunny shouted as he glared at both Taylah and I. His heavy boots stomped as he came to stand directly in front of us.

“Ummm, no.” Taylah mumbled wisely, chosing not repeat what she had said.

“No, what?” Gunny boomed, his face inches away from Taylah’s.

“No Sir?” Taylah winced, hoping that it would be enough to appease Gunnery Sergeant Ortiz so that he moved out of her personal space.

“And you?” He directed his tirade at me. Yeah, I could already see how this was probably not going to work out for me. I really couldn’t see how an angry man shouting at me, challenging me to work out was going to improve my mental fortitude. Surely, I could just get a personal trainer and bypass all the “one more for the Corps” bullshit.

Unfortunately my response to this angry man who was clearly trying to intimidate me was to smile. It was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done because the minute my lips curled I saw the veins in Gunny’s rather ample neck start to bulge.

“Something funny? I don’t know why you are smiling, you ain’t on T.V sweetheart.” Gunny spat out angrily, inches away from face. I saw a theme here, Gunny Ortiz had no respect for boundaries and loved to invade people’s personal space.

“I’m not afraid of you.” I said defiantly. I would not to allow this man to make me feel inferior. I was paying someone to yell at me like I’d joined the army. I held no secret ambition to be GI f*cking Jane and I sure as hell wasn’t scared of this * that got his rocks off by yelling angrily at strangers.

“Of course you ain’t. Why should you be? You’re too busy being afraid of yourself to give a flying shit about me. Just like everyone else in this room. Now listen up, this is for the cheap seats. I don’t care how much money you have, what your last name is or who you’re f*cking. What I care about is what you give me, what you are made of and what you have in here,” Gunny rammed his two fingers and poked himself hard in the chest.

“’Cause if you got that, if you got what it takes in here, ain’t nothing anyone can do to hurt you anymore.”

I was done. On top of being yelled at, now the angry ex-Marine was trying to peddle his mind-over-matter bullshit. Nothing can hurt you ever again if you just believe. Like anyone would choose to feel this way. I was offended. This * that didn’t know me was calling me afraid, insinuating I was weak. He could take his “call me Sir” and blow it out his ass. What the f*ck was Chris thinking? I didn’t need this!

I took a deep breath and broke formation. I stepped out from my position in the line and proceeded to walk my not-so-afraid-lycra-covered-ass back to the door that I’d come in from. I was going home.

“Stone! Get back here.” Gunny Ortiz yelled, his voice reverberated around the room.

“Fuck you!” I shouted back as I sprinted in the direction of the locker room. My plan was to retrieve my belongings and get the hell out of there.

“STONE!” Gunny Ortiz grabbed my shoulder and yanked me backward, sending my body slamming down hard on the matted floor.

DarNell jerked up out of the seat he had been occupying from the sidelines. His face twitched as he watched, seconds away from intervening. Taylah and Sydney stood motionless in their roughly formed line, either shocked I had the audacity to say something (though it was me we were talking about and I had an issue with keeping my mouth shut) or relieved that they weren’t the target for Gunny Ortiz’s ire.

I stayed where I landed, on my back with my chest heaving up and down as I struggled to suck in each breath. Gunny knelt down beside me, his eyes scrutinizing me closely. I was prepared for his big booming voice, for him to yell and tell me I had been weak to give up, but he didn’t. Instead his voice softened and I saw in his eyes a kindness that I was positive had not been there before.

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