Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THORNE
“Again,” I snarled, looking down at the man who warmed my bed hours before we stepped on the mat.
“Again?” he groaned, his limbs shaking from both adrenaline and fatigue.
“Get off your ass, Valens. I won’t fucking repeat myself.”
He muttered something under his breath but climbed to his feet. He knew by now to go back into his stance, waiting for my orders.
I’d done as he told me to, slipping on the mask of cold indifference, pretending to be the ruthless man he believed I was when he first walked in those doors.
My chest tightened with the mere idea of harming him.
I hated it, loathed it, but my position and the game we were playing required fabricated soullessness.
Chin tilted to the sky, he poked his tongue against his freckled cheek repeatedly, a set rhythm far from coincidence as he raised a curled fist. While my mask was back, he was making it hard to maintain my character.
Switching my feet before he could react, my shin slammed into his side, the roundhouse kick one I’d perfected throughout the years. “Guard!”
He coughed but managed to stay on his feet once he found his balance. The steps he took to readjust himself sent a scowl to his face as he raised his arms to block.
“Your stance still looks like shit,” I spat, internally cringing at the harshness of my words. “Are you that pathetically incompetent that you can’t understand simple corrections?”
“No, Commander,” he muttered. “You see, it’s just my back is a bit messed up from, well, a great fuck.” He stretched, spreading his legs into a better stance than before.
“Glad someone was finally able to tame your unbearable nature.” Lifting a brow, I challenged him to keep pushing. “Did they admire the bruises adorning your body? Remnants of beatings equivalent to your worthlessness?”
“Licked every one, sir,” he said with a wink. “Though I do remember, I did more of the tasting.” He raised his arms, form almost perfect.
Before he could react, I closed the gap between us. Sidestepping, I faked a right hook before sinking my hips back, my left fist greeting his stomach with enough force to lift him off the ground.
He gasped, dropping to a knee as his arms wrapped around his gut. “F-Fuck.”
“You’re lucky it wasn’t a blade,” I snapped, the anger in my words genuine for more than one reason.
General Valens had ordered us on an overseas mission to Venezuela to hunt down an ex-officer and execute him, alongside the coup those in opposition had organized.
It was a simple task in any other instance, but with Oren by my side and my desire to protect him igniting tenfold, the minor flaws in his execution clawed at an already open wound.
I can’t lose him out there.
Whether he noticed the drop in my persona or not, his gaze softened. “I’m shit at this, aren’t I?” He slipped back into his stance, a singular breath exhaled as he gave me a nod. “Don’t worry about the hits, Commander. I can take them, and if I can’t, I’ll learn from it. I won’t be a burden.”
My heart shattered at the words, and for the first time in my life, I hesitated on the training floor.
“Commander?” he repeated, tilting his head to the side.
I can’t do this.
The pressure built in my chest, my breathing intensifying as I struggled to find my bearings.
It felt as if the general’s hands were around my throat again, but the pressure was far worse than anything he’d be able to deliver.
The weight of my responsibilities loomed, threatening to swallow me whole, and the panic set in.
If I couldn’t train him sufficiently, if I couldn’t equip him for what we would likely face out there, then what? It’d be my fault if he got injured, my fault if he lost his life, just like every other man I’d failed in the past.
My fault.
My fault.
“Thorne?” Oren asked, his brows softening.
At my continued silence, he wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged me to a blocked corner of the training room behind a couple of propped-up mats. Thankfully, the room was pretty empty. Oren stood on his toes to press his hands against my cheeks.
“You’re spiraling. What’s going on?”
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t fucking—
He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, his hands threading with mine. His citrus scent, with floral undertones, attempted to coax me, his voice soft. “Breathe, please.”
I tried but failed, the words tumbling from me. “I-If I can’t ensure you’re ready before we leave, then there’s a chance—a chance that you m-might…”
Memories consumed my mind, the bullet holes in my men's chests returning. There’d always been too much blood, crimson staining my hands as a mockery of my inability to stop its relentless stream.
The whimpered breaths they’d released as they slipped from this life and into the next practically flooded my senses, each death rattle continuing to haunt me every fucking day.
“That I might what? Die?”
I lifted my gaze to meet his, the act of gathering oxygen practically impossible. “Oren, I-I can’t. Please. Just… Stay here. Don’t come with us to Venezuela.”
He flicked his eyes away from mine. “You know I can’t do that. If something happened to you, Simon, Liam, Matthew, I… I’d be devastated.”
“And I will not survive if something happens to you, Oren. What don’t you understand?” Clenching my jaw, I brought a hand to his cheek. “You coming with us will only be a distraction. I won’t be able to lead, won’t be able to think straight with my mind wrapped up in ensuring your safety.”
He leaned into my palm, but that damn fire in his eyes never dimmed. “Then you train me to be like you. I’m great with reward systems,” he mused, his attempt at humor not helping the situation.
“This isn’t a fucking joke,” I snapped far harsher than I’d wished to.
“It took me years to get to the place I am. I’ve been training since I was eighteen, over a decade of my life dedicated to serving.
You’ve been here for a few weeks, and we leave in five days.
How the fuck can you expect that you’ll be anywhere near ready to step foot in a war zone? ”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it look like a joke, but train me intensively,” he added. “I don’t want to be a burden to you, because if you’re distracted by me, you’ll get hurt. I can’t… I don’t want that.”
“I don’t give a fuck about me, Oren.” Wrapping my hands around his shoulders, I shook him once. “I. Can’t. Lose. You. Out. There.”
“And I can’t lose you, but I’m going. Either train me in the time we have or don’t. I’d much rather have a fighting chance.” Stubborn ass or not, his jaw was set, eyes glowering with that defiance that drew me to him in the first place.
“Goddammit, Oren. You aren’t—”
“Commander Graves.” The voice cut through the building tension, belonging to none other than the piece of shit who’d been granted the chance to walk out of the clinic the day Andrew put his hands on Oren.
Inhaling, I pulled myself together, shoving Oren further into the corner and stepping out to face the man I wished I’d buried the scalpel in. “Yes?”
“General Valens would like to speak with you.”
Thankfully, Oren kept his mouth shut, stuck between pieces of folded mats.
“What of?”
He scoffed. “How should I know? I don’t ask questions as you do.” He jerked his thumb to the double doors, bits of brown hair falling to cover his eyes. “It was an urgent request, not an option just to stand around.”
“Understood.” It was a short reply, one of obedience, but not because I wished to offer it to him; I had to.
“What happened to your bite, Commander? Did General Valens fuck your whore up that badly?”
Ignoring him, I shot a warning glance over at Oren.
It was far too subtle for Andrew’s mutt to catch, but enough to get my point across.
Tucking my hands in my pockets, I moved away from the only man I wished to be beside, closing the gap between me and the piece of shit who’d been ordered to retrieve me.
Without so much as looking at him, I walked past, my shoulder slamming into his with every ounce of ire flowing through my veins.
My lips curled as he cursed at me, but I kept walking, ignoring his pitiful attempts to get under my skin.
As I crossed the threshold from the training room, I took a sharp right, creating distance between myself and the man who hadn’t realized the betrayal that was coming his way.
The man who would undoubtedly hate me before I ever even got the chance to truly love him.
But if it meant keeping him safe, I’d happily accept his damnation.
I stood at attention, posture stiffened to perfection, and hands clasped behind my back. My gaze lingered on the ground, my displayed demeanor serving as bait to the piece of shit who sat behind his desk.
“Hm,” was all he said as he flipped a map onto his desk. “Give me the rundown on what you have so far for preparations.”
“After assessing my squadron's capabilities, I am electing to leave Oren behind. He will serve as more of a headache than an asset on this mission, and I do not want anyone in my unit distracted by his negligence.” Spoken like an obedient mutt. “That being said, he’s blatantly refusing to follow such orders because of his relationship with two of my team members: Simon and Liam. To combat the opposition, I’m bumping up our departure time. We leave tomorrow, sir.”
“And this… leaving him behind will break him further?”
His brow rose, and I knew what he was thinking. While there might be an alternative motivation, being left behind and away from his friends would upset Oren. Away from me.
“Yes, sir,” I replied obediently. “He was extremely vocal about his distaste in staying behind; he mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
“Wonderful,” he said. “Then you have my say in leaving tomorrow.” He clapped his hands. “You know, it’s almost quite comical having you listen to orders. If I’d known hurting my son would get you this subdued, I would’ve done it sooner.”
“I apologize for my insubordination. I will make it up to you with this mission, General.”
He smiled, clasping his hands together as he leaned back in his chair. “Of course you will. A failure means I’ll punish Oren, and hell, with you overseas, there’s not much I couldn’t do.”
Fuck this piece of shit.
Subtly, I clenched my jaw. “Feel free. I don’t give a fuck what happens to him. He’s worthless anyhow.”
Andrew laughed, deep and hearty. “Oh, this is entertaining. What caused the switch? You fuck him, and it’s over?”
“He continuously proved himself invaluable to me. I refuse to associate myself with anyone of such demeanor. I simply do not have the time for it.” Cursing at myself internally, I continued, “I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the feeling when it comes to him.”
“Quite acquainted.” He swiped his thumb over his lips. “Invaluable is the least of his problems. You know, he wanted to go to art school, and it is quite a shame. A rather good talent, but a useless one at that. A worthless skill that would bring no sort of merit to our family. Don’t you agree?”
Was the bastard testing me?
Painting my face with repugnance, my brows drew together. “Art? Really?” I laughed, shaking my head with feigned disgust. “What a fucking waste of a human being, a waste of space, a waste of fucking time.”
Oren enjoyed art? Is that why he stared at my tattoos so much? Did he still draw? Or was he more of a painter?
“Something we can agree on,” he said. “It’s nice to vent about my son’s difficulties with someone else.
I can only take so much of his bitching and whining, especially when he was a kid.
God, he used to fucking bite when I beat him.
Guess it never really left him,” he muttered as he scratched at his beard.
Behind my back, my nails dug into my palms to keep me from freeing the pistol on my thigh and shooting him in the head.
“I’m surprised it didn’t work. Should’ve ripped his teeth out with a set of rusty pliers, right?
” I chuckled, continuing to entertain his stupidity in believing I’d suddenly fallen victim to his manipulation once more.
He chuckled, too, shaking his head. “I’m glad we agree on this, Commander. See to it he remains here.”
“Will do, sir.” I saluted him, dipping my chin with the air of respect I knew fed his ego. “I will report back when we return from Venezuela.”
“If there is nothing else you wish to report, you’re dismissed.”
I nodded and, without another word, exited his office.