By the time early afternoon rolled round, Stryker still hadn’t returned and I was beginning to wonder if I had training at all. That was until Jack knocked on my bedroom door, entering with a solemn air to him. I frowned, picking up on his expression immediately “what’s up?”
“Nothing.” He muttered “Stryker’s not doing well. You’re with me today.”
I swallowed hard “he was fine, like, at breakfast.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat “injury. Come on.”
“What?” I scrambled to follow him “he wasn’t- what-?”
“I don’t know.” He huffed “your commander just…he’s with him. He’ll be fine.”
“No.” I snapped “you were there, you know what happ-“
“Idon’t.” Jack whirled round to glare “watch your tone, rookie-“
Just as the anger started bubbling up, someone intervened.
“Jack.” Matthew, who had been waiting by the door sharpening his blade, stepped in, eyes darkening “why don’t you mind yours?”
I blinked, surprised. He wasdefending me?
“You have no kind of superiority to him, you do realise that, don’t you?”
Jack’s face twisted into a sneer “it seems to me-“
“For fucks sake.” His eyes narrowed “I get it, you're worried. Now back off and stop being such an ass.” His warm hazel eyes locked with mine and he added “he got gutted by an elk. It charged at him, apparently.”
“What?”My jaw dropped in disbelief.
“I know.” Matthew chortled “wasn’t expecting that one.”
“It’s serious.” Jack muttered tersely “he was bleeding a shitload.”
“Yeah, I believe it.” Matt remarked, patting me on the back and nodding towards the door “we can go and check on him later. Come on.”
I reluctantly followed the pair out of the door, remaining a few steps behind them and dragging my feet. I didn’t enjoy the idea of training withJack, especiallyJackin a pissy mood. I was still on the fence about him, really, but for now he was definitely in my bad books.
The field was packed, Jack was an ass, Matthew- who was watching due to his infection- was distracting, wearing a long sleeved shirt that hugged his arms, practically outlining his biceps that my eyes kept flying back to, and my mind was preoccupied anyway.
Training sucked.
Matthew stepped up beside me towards the end of it, eyes glued to Jack, who was talking to Nikolas, an older soldier who always seemed to be aiding Johnathan in decision making.
“You need to work on your stance.”
“I don’t need to work on anything.” I muttered defensively, bristling for no particular reason “your friend is an asshole.”
“He’s not.” Matthew retorted gently “he’s worried.”
“He’s known Stryker for less than a month.”
“Aren’tyouworried?” He raised both eyebrows, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“Yes,but-“
“Cut him some slack, then.”
“He has to cutmesome slack.”
