Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Sulla
Day ten. Morning briefing.
Mac stands before us at formation. Seven teams remaining—fourteen contestants.
Everyone survived the fifteen mile hike with the eighty-five pound pack and the river crossing.
Blake is still here, still causing problems. Yesterday I heard him belittling his partner, Heather, near the supply tent.
I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but I understood the tone.
I don’t like bullies especially men who bully women.
“Today’s challenge,” Mac says. “Navigation. Rough terrain, designated waypoints. Partners work together. Back by sixteen hundred. Questions?”
No one asks.
We move out at 0800. The terrain is uneven, boggy in places, the sky the color of ash. Reid navigates with military precision. I follow and watch her read the landscape like text.
Blake and Heather are ahead of us on the trail. I hear Blake before I see what’s happening.
“Move faster! You’re useless out here!”
Heather says nothing. Just tries to keep pace.
We pass them and Blake glares at us.
We finish the navigation and return to base camp by mid-afternoon. I’m crossing the courtyard toward our tent when I hear Blake’s voice. Loud. Aggressive. I turn.
Blake is standing over Heather.
“—think you’re so much better than everyone else,” Blake is saying. “Interesting when you can’t do one God damn thing right.”
She’s dripping wet, shivering, and Blake is in her face.
Heather’s jaw tightens. “Back off, Blake.”
“Or what?” Blake steps closer. “You gonna run to Mac?”
“I’m going to tell you one more time.” Heather’s voice drops. “Back. Off.”
Mac is already moving toward them. But I’m closer.
I step between Blake and Heather. Don’t touch him. Just stand there.
Blake looks up at me. “This isn’t your business, Sulla.”
When I don’t say anything, he leans in toward me and snarls in my face, “She’s not your partner. She’s not your anything.”
A beat. He doesn’t move. I don’t either.
“Step back,” I say.
Blake’s eyes flicker. He wants to push back. Wants to assert dominance. But when he sees the grim determination in my face, he steps back.
I glance at Heather. She's already straightened—jaw set, arms loose at her sides. Shaken, but standing firm.
I don’t move. Just stand there. Blocking his access to Heather. Making it clear—if he wants to get to her, he goes through me.
“What are you, her protector?” Blake sneers. But there’s uncertainty in his voice now.
“I’m someone who understands something you don’t,” I say quietly. “There are two kinds of men in this world. Those who protect. And those who prey. You’re the second kind.”
“And you’re the first?” Bitter laugh. “That’s rich.”
“No,” I say. “I used to be what you are. I know because I recognize it.”
His face flushes with anger. But he doesn’t move forward. Doesn’t challenge me.
Mac arrives. “Blake. With me. Now.”
Blake shoots me a look of pure hatred before following Mac toward the command tent.
Heather exhales slowly. She’s still shivering, jaw set, eyes bright with anger she’s holding in check. She looks at me.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. Then she walks toward the barracks without looking back.
When I look around, Reid is standing across the courtyard. I wonder if she’s been there long enough to have seen everything. Her expression is unreadable in the way it gets when she’s processing something she didn’t expect.
Our eyes meet.
Neither of us moves.
Then she turns and walks back toward the tent.
I stand here in the empty courtyard.
Just a look. Nothing more.
But swirling tightness my chest says, she sees you.
I don’t know what to do with that yet.