The Sniper's Heart

Chapter 3

"You're fucking kidding me, right!?" I shout, the anger that vibrates through my body practically setting the metal around me on fire.

Foster winces and nods, scratching the back of his neck, "Yes. We tried, Red, but captain says that they need to run the drills with the best sniper we have."

"But I don't fucking trust them! Why should I have to train with assholes that I don't know!?" My tongue is sharp and everyone in the mess hall can hear me. They're all eating breakfast slowly, listening to me blow up on Foster. I'm not hungry, my appetite gone when Shawn came up and told me that I'd be training with the new team. It's a good thing I don't have any weapons or someone would be bleeding out on the ground.

"Red. Look-" Gambler steps up and I hiss at him, warning him with my eyes to not mutter another word. His mouth snaps shut. "I don't want to train with them! We have no idea of their history, how they work, how they act towards each other! How am I supposed to trust their abilities when I don't even know them!?" I shout, catching the eyes of some of the soldiers and glaring at them. They all drop their eyes and go back to eating.

Foster steps forward, "Red, please, just calm down-" I snarl at him and he shuts himself right up. He knows better than to tell me that I need to calm down. My fists curl into tight balls, my body oozing with pure irritation at the thought of working with them. What is they treat me as nothing? What if they shoot me on "accident"? What if they purposely try to put me in danger?

Gambler steps forward, his lips open and I stomp my foot. "No! I'm not going to work with them! And that's it! I don't need to train with some untrustworthy assho-"

The doors to the mess hall slam open and I jerk my head around to see Mr Hunky stalking towards me, eyes burning with anger. His body is radiating power and confidence and for a moment, I feel submissive, the words in my throat dropping at the look in his eyes. That same black mask is pulled over his face, just the sight of his tight eyes shooting prickles down my spine. He's wearing the under layer of tactical gear, combat boots and black cargo pants with a tight black t-shirt.

He covers ground quickly, the moment he's within arms reach, his hand shoots out and he grips my neck in his large hand, squeezing at my neck. My knees go weak, my eyes widening as he growls, pulling me towards him by the hand around my neck. He meets my eyes, daring me to speak in this moment, putting soft pressure on my windpipe. I swallow, nerves prickling my body at his gaze, the way his mask moves with his muscled jaw.

"Stop." He grits at me and my whole body lights on fire, a whimper almost echoing through the air around me. The sound burns in my throat, the shock of this moment sending my body throbbing. His eyes flash for a moment, gaze drifting down my body before he snarls and yanks me closer by my neck again. My thighs clench involuntarily and my lips part. No words come out.

He leans down, getting into my space. "You don't get to go around and be a little bitch to me and my team. We are soldiers. The same as you. We went through the same training. Went through the same fights." He snarls, fingertips tightening around my windpipe again, my vision swimming ever so slightly. "We might be new to these barracks, this base, these people. But we are not new to being soldiers. Guns. Danger. Do you understand me?" I gasp softly, my stomach twisting as my hands rise to grab at his wrists. My head is screaming. Fight him off, get out of this hold. It's so fucking hot. Such a turn on. He's so big, warm, confident.

His grip flexes on my neck, my chest heaving as he looks at me, a flicker of realization crossing through his eyes. Fuck. I swallow beneath his palm and I can see the way the fabric of his mask crinkles. A smirk. He's fucking smirking at me beneath that damned mask.