He didn’t yell because the sea already did.
She’d pulled back, and it hurt too much to delve too deep into the why. He would take her rejection, bury it, let it bruise and bite until he was tough enough to look at it more closely. The sea hissed against the shore like breath through clenched teeth. The tide came in and retreated, endless, unfeeling.
She would be his own personal BUD/S
The day wound down. The last of the recruits had cleared the sand, limping or carried, the surf reclaiming their footprints as if they’d never been there. The Grinder was quiet now, littered with the ghosts of water bottles, damp shirts, and the smell of sweat baked into asphalt.
Bear stood at the edge of it, watching the tide push in. The sun had dropped low, gold light pooling across the blacktop. His shirt was still damp with salt. He didn’t move.
Brick came up behind him, boots grinding the sand. The man never approached quietly, his presence always hit like a concussion blast.
“Hell of a first day, Locklear.” Brick’s voice was rough from hours of shouting. “You planning to teach through osmosis, or you saving your lungs for story time?”
Bear didn’t turn. “I met the objectives.”
Brick snorted. “They looked like they were praying. Half of them didn’t know whether to move or meditate. You’re supposed to make ’em sweat, not serenade the sea.”
Bear finally looked at him, meeting Brick’s gaze head-on. The motion was slow, deliberate, as if he were giving the other man permission to step closer. His eyes were dark, almost black in the fading light, not cold but fathomless, depth without bottom. Bear had seen fear, anger, defiance, every kind of fight look a man could wear, but this was different.
There was no challenge in Bear’s stare, no ego, no apology, just steadiness, the kind that didn’t waver even under fire. It was the look of a man who’d already made peace with pain and didn’t need to prove it anymore.
“They were sweating,” Bear said at last, voice even, quiet enough that the wind almost carried it away.
Brick’s mouth twitched around his toothpick. The silence between them held longer than the space for a retort, and he had to break it with motion, shifting his stance, shoulders tightening.
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s the only point,” Bear said. “They move. They breathe. They learn.”
Brick took a step closer, crossing his arms, the toothpick shifting between his teeth. “You think this is a goddamn Zen retreat? We’re here to weed out weakness. You go soft on them, they’ll die soft. I’ve buried enough to know what that looks like.”
Bear’s voice stayed level. “I’ve carried enough to know yelling doesn’t make ’em stronger. It just makes them louder.”
For a beat, the wind moved between them, a sharp hiss of grit and air. Brick’s jaw flexed, the toothpick splintering. “You think your way’s better.”
“I think my way’s mine.” Bear wiped a hand across the back of his neck, the muscles in his shoulders shifting under the light. “You do what works for you, Chief. I’ll do what works for me.”
Brick stared at him for a long moment, something flaring behind his eyes, anger, maybe admiration, maybe both. Then he laughed, low and rough. “You got some stones, Locklear. I’ll give you that. But don’t mistake calm for control. One day, that ocean you worship’s gonna turn on you.”
Bear turned back toward the surf. “Already has.”
Brick’s laughter faded. He studied Bear’s profile, the stillness, the weight in it. “You lose someone?” he asked quietly.
Bear didn’t answer. He just looked at the water, where the light broke and scattered like memory. “We all lose someone,” he said. “The trick’s to keep moving.”
Brick nodded once, no more jokes left. “Guess we’ll see if your boys make it.”
“They will,” Bear said.
“Confidence?”
“Faith.”
Brick shook his head but didn’t argue. He started to walk off, then glanced back. “You ever decide to join the rest of us mortals in the shouting section, I’ll save you a whistle.”
Bear almost smiled. “You’d have to catch me first.”
Brick grinned, tossed his toothpick into the sand, and left him there, staring out at the line where sky met water.
