Page 58 of The Commander

Tyrell gets caught by Hayden, and his face reddens. His temper has always been a problem. Today, Quinn is in his sight as he jogs over, says something to her and then keeps going. She glares at him, shouts something I can’t hear, and then shakes her head.

That motherfucker is lucky I’m not armed or unhinged.

The day progresses as the soldiers practice driving in vehicle convoys further down on the land, responding when they’re attacked by simulated IEDs—essentially flashing lights and loud bangs—and then returning fire.

Two teams get out of the kill zone and act out medical treatment on faux casualties that we’d prepared as they call for help. These are real-life situations they need to be able to react to in the middle of warfare if they’re to step up into special-forces position.

My teeth grind as I imagine Quinn taking her military career to a whole other level. What about her personal life? Being a mom? Doesn’t she have any desire to nurture that part of her life?

I shake it off and focus back on her performance.

The high-stress scenarios she’s undertaking this week require good communication, marksmanship and leadership for survival, all of which she’s very capable of. But I can’t stop my mind returning to the same question over and over: what’s important to her?

She won’t talk to me about us being in a relationship, let alone talk about what her dreams are. I want to know her. I want to see her thrive in other areas of her life.

It can’t all be about being a soldier.

I think about her father and wonder if he’s encouraged her to go on this path. Or the opposite. The man is a tough old-school grunt, and I can almost guarantee he’s had an influence on her one way or the other.

Crossing my arms, I watch her slide her boots into the soil, drop and roll. Quinn loves what she does, I know that, but if she wakes up one day in her forties and has the rank she’s aspired to and no family, will she be happy?

I know I can’t let her go without a fight.

But the risk for me is after fighting for so long, I am the one who ends up alone and angry like my dad.

There are times I question whether letting her go would be the best thing to do here. Then I see her laugh, and I catch the sparkle in her eyes as she smiles at me, and nothing in this world could keep me from her.

Except her.

The final part of the day ends at the shooting range. Live and simulated ammo, pop-up targets and role-playing with the enemy see them wielding their rifles and zigzagging around the range.

When we start packing up, and thankfully no more razors or signs of the goddamn cartel have shown up, I start to relax.

But there’s one thing I need to take care of.

When Tyrell walks past me after almost everyone else has gone, I grab his collar. “If I see you bullying Parker again, you’re out.”

“Put your dick away, Jenkins. Why don’t you just admit you two are involved? You aren’t enlisted anymore. No one cares.”

“You’ll be lucky if you pass this week, Brooks. She’s a better soldier than you are and always has been,” I grind out, speaking the truth.

“Fuck you.” He shakes me off.

“Your hot head and big mouth will get someone killed,” I warn, pointing my finger in his face. “Sort it out.”

He glares at me and lowers his black sunglasses over his eyes before giving me the bird and walking off. “How’s that for anger management?”

I shake my head.

Nothing I said was out of place; the guy is a small risk, and I should have raised it years ago. I knew if I did he’d start blabbing about Quinn. While we’d technically never crossed the line, I didn’t want to scare her off any more than she was.

I hope I don’t live to regret it.

“What was that about?” Hayden steps out from behind one of the hay barrels, carrying shot-up target sheets.

Crap. I was hoping to keep that little interaction private.

“Nothing.” I grab the last rifle.