Chapter 2 Emery
EMERY
Mori. If he has another name it isn’t one I know.
God, this guy gives me the fucking chills. His gaze alone could level a mountain, yet there is something so dreary about him that makes his unique, handsome features all the more curious.
My eyes linger on his muscles as he takes his jacket off. He’s only wearing a form-fitting black T-shirt beneath it, leaving many of his tattoos exposed. For some reason, I keep imagining his chest has a long tattoo covering a scar; I even dreamed of it.
General Nolan said it’s not uncommon to dream of the things we fear most. In fact, he had to reassure me many times because of the nightmares that’ve returned night after night.
Mori is undoubtedly someone I don’t want to be too close to, but it doesn’t explain why I’m dreaming of things in such minute detail about him.
He’s always watching me like I can’t be trusted. Like my very existence bothers him greatly. His lack of expression toward me makes me uncomfortable.
The only time I saw a fraction of emotion from him was when I first woke up after the trials. He had so much torment and guilt consuming him. Then after a few days when I was discharged from the medical bay, he was stone-cold and acted like he knew little of me.
It’s terrifying not remembering anything about who you are or what you’re doing.
Even more so when you have someone like him who refuses to talk to you about any of it.
I decided pretty quickly that he was going to be trouble for me.
Not just because I’m attracted to him as a moth is to the flame, but because he’s dangerous.
From what I’ve been told, he saved me after I terminated my opponent in the third trial, and he carried me back to the bunker. I know I should be grateful, but something inside me wishes I would’ve died that day. It’s a sensation deep in my marrow, like a dreadful dream that beckons from afar.
I’m an ex-criminal, now a secret soldier. Not exactly something that’s easy to accept about yourself when you’ve lost all of your memories.
I feel like a moving chess piece, aimless and without a destination. My body has become a tool only to be used for killing, which I am quite good at apparently.
Still, I don’t know myself. I don’t know if I ever will.
Mori shoves his hands into his pants pockets and stares at me with indifference.
He always does this, acts like he’s not threatened by anyone else in the ring.
I exhale sharply with frustration at his arrogance.
His brow lifts and a cocky grin spreads across his face.
Not a happy one, an I’m-going-to-fuck-you-up one.
If he isn’t ignoring me, he’s tormenting me.
I circle him slowly, trying to attack him head-on never works so I’ve devised a few other things I can attempt. Mori takes it a step further and shuts his eyes like he’s bored to tears of this already. I clench my taped hands and lunge for him when I reach his side.
Normally I go for a low strike, aiming for the legs to try to get my opponents on the ground since everyone else is twice my size. Mori knows this, so he’ll be expecting me to do it. I hate that he seems to know me so well, yet chooses to continue avoiding me.
I make a sweeping motion with my foot to allude that I’m going to try to trip him.
He reacts by lifting his leg and shifting.
Just as he’s about to counter and plant his foot in my chest like he’s systematically done so many times before, I leap back with the motion and grab his heel as he brings it up.
Got you, dickhead.
I smile to myself as his eyes flash my way, but instead of finding concern I only recognize a sly and knowing look across his face. A gasp rolls from my lips as he jerks forward and grabs my wrist. We both tumble to the ground.
He quickly flips me on my side, his chest against my back, and secures me in a headlock. I struggle and try to get out of it, but he holds firm, adding pressure the longer I take to tap out.
Goddamn it. I smack his arm twice and he releases me.
I take a few labored deep breaths and glare at him as he slowly rises.
The coldness in his stare remains the same as it always has, distant and unwavering.
My eyes linger on the vertical scar that cuts through his left eye.
He notices my studying of his features and scowls at me before running his fingers through his lovely white locks and walking back to the other two without so much as a word to me.
Asshole. I deflate and take a calming breath.
Part of me wishes that he’d speak to me more, offer some advice or something.
“That was pathetic,” he calls over his shoulder. Fire races up my spine.
Yeah, never mind. Mori can eat shit.
It’d be nice if we could have some civil conversations without him trying to piss me off. I long to get to know him better, even if he insists on keeping his distance. He has to know something about who I am.
My gaze briefly dips down to his shoulder muscles, flexing as he stretches his arms above his head. I force my eyes away and glower at myself for wishing to indulge in someone like him.
Gage walks over casually and slaps his hand on my shoulder. “Doesn’t feel so good being in a headlock, does it, Morphine?” he teases. His sandy blond hair is short and straight, even when drenched in sweat like it is right now.
I roll my eyes as he pats my arm and bumps me against his chest. He’s the same height as Mori, which means he’s a fucking giant. They all are, but Gage and Mori are the largest soldiers on our squad.
“Whatever. Aren’t we pushing the time to get back for the briefing?” I say as I shove him away. Gage smirks and looks at Thomas, who’s already gathering our discarded jackets and tossing them at us. I catch mine just before it smacks me in the face.
“Yeah, we should probably hurry if we don’t want to be doing push-ups for the rest of the night.” Gage rubs the back of his neck as he yawns.
“Lieutenant Erik is more of a jogging for the rest of our lives kind of a guy, don’t you think?
” I mumble. Our squad leader is more brutal than the others, but I think it’s a good sign.
It shows that he cares about us. At least I think so.
Gage and Kayden like to complain that it’s because he wants us to suffer for pissing him off.
I know Mori respects Erik a great deal, so I do too.
He’s always trying to gain our lieutenant’s approval.
I see it in the way he pushes himself harder than the rest of us and only has a bit of solace when Erik gives praise.
Gage told me that his only care in the entire world is to move up in the ranks and become a sergeant.
I follow behind Thomas and Mori as they lead us back to the barracks. My mind is always elsewhere when we walk through the California base. It’s nearly identical to the one in Alaska, but this base is larger in every capacity and ten times warmer. Which is a godsend for my joints.
It’s the main hub for all the Dark Forces’s squads besides Ri?t.
They play over somewhere on the eastern shores, or so I’ve heard.
From what I know, they don’t get along well with others because they hunt the rest of us if we step out of line.
Not just us though, the upstairs soldiers too.
Terminating traitors is their specialty.
As such, they remain separated from us. Most of us have no clue what any of them even look like. It seems intentionally set up that way. We wouldn’t even know who they were until it was too late.
The remaining squads, Fury, Warsaw, and Malum, reside here in California. I wish I could tell if there are any familiar faces from my time in the Under, but no one in particular stands out.
I nod curtly at a few of the Navy SEALs as we walk straight to the lower-level barracks. They let their eyes follow me, and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I’d love to give them a fist to the face, but I don’t want to get in trouble…again.
“Hey, what makes you fuckers so special that she gets to have long pink hair? And the douchebag over here gets to have tattoos under his goddamn jawline?” one of them snaps at us.
Well, we can’t exactly come out and say “It’s because we’re heinous criminals and get to do whatever we want to our appearances” now can we?
I grit my teeth and keep moving forward, but Mori abruptly stops and turns on his heel. I run straight into his chest, quickly gasping and stepping back. His cold, sage eyes are on me for only a moment before he blinks and focuses on the men behind us.
Dark Forces soldiers are not supposed to interact with the “upstairs” soldiers for any reason. Especially to fight.
“Come here. I’ll show you what makes us special,” Mori says with a crooked grin on his face.
It’s painfully easy to tell when he’s having bad days, because he’s much more likely to pick fights with others.
Usually it’s shared aggression with Thomas, though.
I spent much of my time during the first week watching those two fight until blood was shed, or until Kayden and Gage pulled them apart.
Followed by nights spent jogging as punishment for the entire squad.
I know the consequences will be much more severe if the fight is with someone outside our division.
The men furrow their brows like they are considering actually coming over here and trying him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Thomas mutters under his breath.
“He’s just joking,” Gage says with his charming fake laugh, shoving Mori to keep walking forward.
Mori doesn’t budge an inch. He glances at me and must see the impatience brewing in my gaze because he sighs and finally relents. Thomas flashes him a warning look that goes completely ignored.
“You’re going to get the whole squad in trouble,” I grumble as he takes his place beside me and we resume walking down the expanse of the halls. Mori grunts in response, hardly giving me more than a side glance.