Chapter 24 Oren
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
OREN
Soldier training sucked ass. And not the good kind either. The kind that made me want to rip my cropped hair from my skull.
My father wanted to eradicate their spirits, tear them down until only bones and muscle remained, creating the perfect soldiers for his missions. And how did he want me to do that? By eradicating their breaks and doubling their training time.
It took everyone over six months to adjust to my expectations. Thorne though? He joined just two weeks ago, and already he was hitting milestones far superior to the others despite what happened and the training he’d missed out on during the time he’d taken to rest.
He’d spent the first handful of days glued to his bed, pouting of course, but listening.
After that, he’d continued with his obedience by taking it easy and observing rather than directly engaging.
His willingness had come from a promise we’d made: if he healed, he could chase me, but I wouldn’t allow such strenuous engagements until I was certain he was better.
My father had almost caused his death, and I’d done nothing but watch behind a tight mask.
While Thorne seemed to pay no mind to his added scars, I’d counted.
Counted each new nick on his skin as a reminder of what I’d caused.
A reminder that I’d carry within my chest, because he’d earned more than eight marks at the hands of my father, and some from me—which I still wasn’t happy with myself about.
My fingers curled, nails digging into my palms as I surveyed the outdoor training yard to spot a floundering Liam. The heat of midday was starting to fade, but at this pace, we’d be out here until it completely vanished.
“I’ve seen you race to Simon faster than you’re running on my track, Liam.” Fuck me. I hated resorting to cheap tricks, but the quicker he completed training, the faster we could rest. The faster Thorne and I could—
A sharp whistle tore through the air, a laugh tumbling from Matt. “Fuck, that’s a dig.”
“You want me to talk about you, Matthew?” I lifted my chin, jerking it toward the end of the track. “You’re fucking four laps behind Thorne, and two behind Liam. Maybe you do need something in your ass to push you along.”
“Okay, first off, no one asked you,” he started, picking up pace by a pathetic hair. “Second—”
Not winded in the slightest, Thorne cut him off. “If we are being politically correct, you did ask by opening your mouth, moron.”
Liam’s laughter floated in the background, a tune that ignited me to dig further. “Maybe that’s your problem. Fucked too many times in the ass and not in the mouth.”
On the opposite side of the track, Matt lifted his arms, offering paired middle fingers in my direction. “Someone needs to knock you from your high horse, Valens, because you’re fucking unbearable sometimes.”
“Sometimes? I prefer to be knocked down, but not from a horse.” I grinned, lifting my hand to usher him forward. “Maybe save your energy for running instead of using it to rile up your commander, who, might I add, is fucking tired of looking at you.”
“Yeah,” Thorne added, slowing his pace as he finished his final lap. “Keep running, dumbass.”
“Like you have a stick up your ass!” Liam yelled from behind, slightly winded from laughing.
“I hate all of you, by the way.” Matt’s retort rolled across the field, his hitched breath confirmation of his failing pace.
“Lies.” Thorne corrected, running a hand down his sweat-covered face. “And with that shitty rhythm you’ve got going, I’m beginning to wonder how you keep up in the bedroom, Harveil.”
“With pauses,” I added. “Just like he’s doing now.”
Liam finished his lap and collapsed to the ground, his laughter untameable. “God, stop.”
“Yeah, Liam. Matthew just stops right before the finish.”
Thorne nudged his boot against Liam’s side. “To be frank, your slow ass has nothing to brag about either.”
“Good thing I’m a bottom.” Liam winked, his laughter heightening as Thorne playfully kicked him.
The two continued their banter as Matthew finished his rounds. Inhaling deeply, he lifted his chin, looking at me as he spread his arms. “There. Happy, commander?”
“No. If the general saw everyone’s training display today, he’d kill us. I need all of you to put in the work, and right now you’re all acting like whining bitches. This isn’t a squad, it’s a fucking—”
“Valens.” The sharp, humorless voice crooned from behind me, my stomach sinking with the realization.
How long had he been watching?
“Sir.” I saluted my father, replacing my frown with a scowl, hoping it masked the undeniable twitching beneath. If he had seen their joy, however brief, we were fucked. I was fucked. Thorne was fucked—fuck.
“Knowing you were busy with whatever today’s regimen is, I only wished to stop by to see how your men were performing, and I brought a guest with me.”
A guest?
My heart hammered in my chest, but as soon as the man stepped around my father, every ounce of me wished for nothing more than to collapse to the ground in relief—Simon.
Strolling forward, he walked with a newfound air of confidence.
With a prosthetic fitted perfectly to his leg, it was almost like the incident never happened, almost like he didn’t nearly die in that explosion.
With a cheeky grin, he glanced between the four of us, lifting his brows in amusement as his hands sank into his pockets.
“Long time no see, assholes.”
Liam jumped up from the ground and took steps toward him, but paused, as if a barrier halted him in his tracks. “Simon, you…” He swallowed, but the ache in his voice remained.
“Can walk?” Simon joked, as always, though his responses were clipped, containing an unspoken warning. “Sure can.”
“Of course… of course you can,” Liam added, his eyes softening with every unspoken word.
“Something more you need, General?” Thorne quipped from behind me, causing me to drive my nails deeper into my palms.
“No. I think I’ve collected enough information about the current disreputable state of this squad.”
“Sir, I apologize if—”
“Apologize?” he cut in, eyes sharpening like a blade directed at me. “You’re a fucking commander.”
The general smiled, and before anyone could react, he grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back with enough force to nearly crack my neck. A pitiful cry left my lips, tears instantly forming as my nails dug into his arms for leverage. Leverage to keep me standing, a near impossible feat.
Thorne’s warning came between clenched teeth. “Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Him.”
“Thorne. Shut up,” I spat, glowering to keep up appearances. “I don’t need your protection or want it. I think you’re forgetting you ruined my life.”
“FUCK THE LIES!” Thorne screamed, his timbre echoing across the field. The sound of a safety release followed, his gun raised and positioned at my father. “Let him go. Now.”
I swallowed. “Thorne, for fuck’s sake, put the gun—”
“Or what? You shoot me here with everyone watching?” My father narrowed his eyes. “You’re not fucking crazy enough to do something as baseless—”
A round fired, a bullet whizzing past my father’s head with precision, the closeness of its path carving a cut across his cheek. “I believe that proves a fucking point. And next time, I won’t fucking miss. You know my stats, General, so I suggest responding accordingly.”
My father snarled, but his grip lessened. A small sigh of physical relief washed over me as I took a step back, but emotionally I was terrified.
Thorne was committing treason.
I stepped forward, placing a hand on Thorne’s arm. “Put the gun down, recruit.” At his resistance, I moved in front of my father. “I said to put the fucking gun down. You’ve done enough.”
His eyes met mine, but their usual honeyed hue was gone, nothing but a void of black remaining. “For what good fucking reason?”
“Because I’m your fucking commander. I don’t need a goddamn reason for you to listen to me!” I turned to face my father. “And you! I’m in the middle of training my fucking squad. If you want to jerk your dick on my men, do it another time.”
“He’d enjoy that far too much,” Thorne muttered from behind me.
“God, shut the fuck up, Graves,” I said, twisting to observe the composure still leaking from him before spewing the rest of my wrath at my father. “If you’re just going to stand, might as well piss. At least you’d be productive.”
I’d never stood up to my father like this, ever. Sure, I’d defied his rules but to hit at his ego? To tear him down farther than Thorne already had? Fuck, Andrew was getting into my head.
“This isn’t over,” Andrew spat. “Your gun won’t save him. Not now, or when the time comes, Thorne. I hope you fucking know that.”
“Oh, go get off somewhere else.” Thorne glided his thumb across the safety, slipping the gun back into the holster on his thigh.
God, I should’ve never had them dress in full uniform.
“You know, threats are more powerful when anticipated,” my father snarled. “You know it’s coming, and you’re powerless to do anything to stop it. So, I’d watch your lover’s back, Thorne Graves.”
Thorne opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “As you should watch yours, General.”
I paced in my room, my hands running through my hair, trying to resolve the tension in my body. It wasn’t fucking working. Especially when Thorne sat on the couch with a smug look on his face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you enjoy causing me panic? Do you enjoy watching me sweat, because you can’t learn to shut your mouth? God, I swear I don’t know what to do with you. You’re a fucking idiot, Thorne. You think with your dick first, and most of the time it gets you in trouble.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he slouched back into the cushions, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Are you done?”