Chapter 11: : Chapter 10

Pete and Jefferson sit defeated as they take the night watch. Eren is making them sit out there as our replacements all night for their part in the ambush. A small reprieve that I’m immensely grateful for.

“Sergeant, there’s no need to report the incident. I’m sure they were only trying to haze me as a sort of cruel introduction to the squad,” I lie, and it tastes like acid. But the revenge I have playing on repeat in my head promises a reward. Eren gives me a look that says he doesn’t buy it for one second.

We both know what Bradshaw was trying to do. What he did do.

“Are you sure?” Eren asks anyway.

I nod and wince as Ian finishes up wrapping the medical tape around my ribs. “I was just spooked by it. I’m mentally sound and can carry out the remainder of the training, Sergeant.”

Ian lifts his head and stares uncertainly at Eren. But neither of them comment on it. Eren only nods and firms his lips.

“Okay. Well, get some sleep… Are you okay with sleeping beside Bones tonight?”

Of course I’m not. He hurt me, but he also awakened something really dark and disturbed inside of me.

I swallow the thoughts.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Sarge.”

Eren observes me for a moment and then nods before retreating to the tent. It would be a miracle if anyone gets a wink of sleep tonight. I finally have a moment to myself and take a long breath, staring down at my black tactical gloves covered in blood. Great. There’s only one spare shirt each of us were able to bring so I change out of the ruined one and slip into a fresh shirt.

My eyes drift over to Bradshaw. He’s already back at our post, lying on his side as he always is. The bushes around our sleeping bags make a perfect cave, keeping it relatively warm against the mountain’s chilly air.

Rage filters through me, growing as it sinks further into my chest. He isn’t going to be punished like the other two? Probably not, he’s Eren’s precious twin.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hurt anyone as much as I do him. I could cut him back. He wants to scare me? I’ll make him piss his pants. I’ll make him face his own mortality.

Dark thoughts seethe in my head as I settle beside him, wincing at the pain in my side. It’s going to scar and I’ll think of his stupid, gorgeous face every time I see it. For a second, I think about him pulling up his mask and the sensation of his lips on my nipple. It sends a shudder down my spine.

Stop thinking about it.

My knees throb and remind me they’ve been unattended to. But I’m so tired, they’ll just have to wait until morning. A small whimper escapes my lips as I finally let my back hit the ground. Bradshaw tenses beside me at the sound. I don’t bother speaking to him. I’m too tired and there’s nothing I can do about it. He wants me to quit—I’ll show him that I won’t. I’ll show them all.

Silence falls around our base once more and as the threads of sleep start to take me, his low whisper stirs me awake.

“You okay?”

What the fuck. No. No, I’m not okay.

I’m anything but okay.

I don’t respond, feigning that I’m asleep. There’s no reality where I can deal with him right now. I’m so close to unsheathing my blade and burying it in his chest.

He shifts to face me. His breath is hushed, but I feel it roll over my skin like a warm mist. I open my eyes enough to see his silhouette. It’s dark and he’s watching me. The black cloth mask covers most of his face, but it can’t hide the anguish in his eyes as he studies my features.

Is this how he stares at me when I’m not looking? There’s so much pain there. More than any person should have to carry. I know that weight.

His eyes lower to my side where he let the sharpness of his blade cut my flesh. Bradshaw lifts his hand and it takes everything I have to keep myself from flinching away from him. He lowers his fingers gently to my side, coasting his fingers softly against the wound beneath the fabric.

It stings, even with the delicate touch. My brows pull together and my lips part with a sharp breath. His fingertips are hot. Heat and pain coil between my thighs. His eyes lift to my face and I open mine so he knows I’ve woken. He doesn’t pull his hand away from my side and he doesn’t look away.

Those pale eyes bore into my soul. What is he searching for?

I take a shallow breath as uncertainty races through me. I can’t get a read on him. My gaze lowers to his lips before I decide to close my eyes again.

He doesn’t move for a while after that. But instead of rolling back to his side, he lies beside me, with the weight of his hand over my ribs, the warmth from his chest seeping into me. The ebb of pain slows and the heat from his hand reminds me that Bradshaw, as cold and uncaring as he is, does indeed have a sliver of a heart.

“Bunny, keep your hands low. You’re smaller than your opponent so use their height against them,” Eren shouts, bored. Ian shares a smug laugh with Harrison as I pick myself up from the ground.

“I know!” I hiss back, ready to call it a day, but only Eren gets to tell us when we’re done. My ribs still hurt, but I’m not about to let it hold me back.

The sparring circle is a flat portion of meadow we discovered during the first week. Eren makes us come out here and beat each other up every morning before the sun rises.

My eyes connect with Bradshaw’s. His hair is wet and pushed back. He crosses his arms as he watches me spar with Jefferson. The corner of Bradshaw’s mask lifts in a nasty smirk and rage courses through me ten times more. He’s been far more tame since the night he assaulted me, though I’m not sure how long that will last. Part of me believes it’s only because Eren brought down the hammer on his brother. It’s already been two weeks of trials and training, long night watches and uncomfortable meals around a campfire. And, somehow, I’ve managed to get only a few scalding glares from Bradshaw. Our conversations are one to four words max, but we aren’t fighting like we were. So, yay.

My reluctance to speak with him probably helps. He thinks this is over. That he’s won. He thinks that I’ll submit to him just because he caught me off guard.

Let him think that.

“Come on, Bunny. You’re making me feel bad about this,” Jefferson says in a sarcastic manner.

“Fuck you.” I spit blood to my side, dirt instantly clinging to it.

Jefferson reaches his hand out and motions for me to come at him. His light brown hair is wet with sweat and clings to his forehead. I told myself I’d spar easy with them, let them think they have the upper hand before really letting them have it, but to hell with that.

I unsheathe my knife and charge at him head-on. His eyes flicker with my sudden boldness. He’s too bulky to react to my swift movements. I easily duck and evade his attempt to land a blow on my chest. My leg sweeps beneath him and he lands flat on his back. He chokes out a strangled gasp from the impact. Without hesitation, I straddle his stomach, deck him across the jaw, and hold the sharp side of my blade against his stubble-covered neck.

Jefferson’s brown eyes grow wide and he blanches. I sneer at him and lean down close, whispering sweetly, “Oh, Jobs, you’re making me feel bad about this.”

His nostrils flare and he opens his mouth to spout some dumb shit I don’t care to hear. I increase the pressure of my knife against his flesh until blood bubbles up and he stills.

“That’s enough, Bunny. Colt, you’re next,” Eren orders with a monotone voice, but I don’t miss the glint in his eyes as he looks up at me. A fire that urges me on. Good job. I can practically hear him say.

Ian steps into the sparring ring and I hand his ass to him. Same with Harrison and Pete too. I can see it in their cold stares that they know I’ve been playing softball with them so far, hiding my true attributes.

“Leave it to a Riøt to be a fucking snake,” Pete says loud enough for me to hear. He’s taking it harder than the rest for some reason. Poor loser.

“Leave it to a Malum to cry about it,” I snap back. Pete’s pupils dilate and his breath turns sharp as he stomps toward me like he can really do something about it. I ready myself, prepared to dislocate his shoulder this time if I have to.

But, of course, Bradshaw feels the need to step in. Pete halts immediately, pissing me off more that their loyalty to him is so strong.

“You think you’re the toughest soldier out there, don’t you?” Bradshaw says with a husky, angry voice that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Eren glares at him. “Bones, you aren’t to participate in sparring. It wouldn’t be fair,” he warns.

Bradshaw ignores his brother and walks steadily toward me, unzipping his outer jacket so he’s just in his protective vest. It’s the first time I’ve seen his bare arms in daylight and, God Almighty, is he a fucking vision. His muscles are defined and his veins protrude as he grips his knife. His tight black tactical pants hang low on his hips and my eyes drift there momentarily. He is lethal and every instinct inside my body thrums on high alert.

I think he really wants to kill me.

“Bones,” Eren warns once more to no avail.

“I’m going to make you wish you had quit the moment you got here.” Bradshaw grins beneath his mask and it sends chills down my spine. Terrible things are playing behind his cold eyes.

I don’t bother responding to him. Instead, I grip my knife harder and lower into a fighting stance. Bradshaw is the only one who I haven’t observed sparring, which I’m assuming is to protect us, but to also keep his techniques secret. I’m not about to charge at him like I did Jefferson.

The four of our squadmates cheer for him, telling him to break my arm and make me cry. My cheeks burn but I force myself to keep emotions out of it.

If he fights anything like Jenkins, I’m fucked.

Bradshaw doesn’t let me wonder for long. He closes the distance between us with four long strides, faster than I could’ve predicted. My instincts kick in. My mind can’t keep up with his strikes but my reflexes can.

He shoots a punch at my throat and I barely jerk back in time to dodge it. His smile is sinister beneath his mask and it only makes his eyes more ferocious. He blocks my counterstrike and I dodge his cheap shot to my kidney. I can tell he’s having fun with this. Bradshaw comes at me directly and I fall for his trick, raising my arms to deflect a frontal assault. He tips to the right and hits me in the spleen. I choke, faltering in pain and he takes advantage of my slip up. His boot hooks mine and I crash to the ground.

My world spins for a second and I choke on the breaths I can’t seem to take.

He has the audacity to laugh as he comes down on me, but I’m ready for it. I twist my ankle around his and roll us to the side. He stops us with his knee and pins my arm to the ground.

“That was a clever trick,” he says in a low voice, pressing his cheek against mine as he kicks my legs apart and settles his knee between my thighs. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen it before.” My cheeks flush and I desperately rack my brain for the technique to get out of this hold.

Nothing. My mind is blank. The only thing I can focus on is the heat of his bare skin against mine and the pressure of his leg at my center.

The others laugh and Bradshaw increases the weight on my spine and arm as he twists it back. I groan in pain and gnash my teeth together.

“Give up. I’ve bested you, Bun.”

“No.” I try to spin but it only puts more strain on my already throbbing arm.

“Such a stupid—” He only gets a gasp out before I buck my hips up into his crotch—hard. He arches forward and coughs as I roll beneath him and plant my foot on his chest, kicking him back with all my strength.

Bradshaw falls back and props up on his elbows, ready to come for me again, but I’m already tackling him back down to the dirt. I punch him in his perfect face and smile through the grit and blood that blooms in my mouth as he lands one against my cheek too.

All I see is red as we relentlessly punch the shit out of each other. Hands are wrapping around my arms and pulling me off Bradshaw before I can register what’s happening.

“Jesus, will you two fucking knock it off!” Eren shoves me back and puts his palm on Bradshaw’s chest when he tries to come back at me. His brow has a fresh cut and his mask is wet with blood. I sneer at him and he lunges once more. I’m glad Eren is between us—I’m not sure what we’d do to each other if he wasn’t.

Bradshaw stares at me like I’m a wild animal that needs to be put down.

“I’m sick of you not obeying orders,” Eren says quieter, getting in Bradshaw’s face. The two of them share an uncomfortable silence before Bradshaw lets his shoulders roll back and he walks back toward base alone. He disappears behind the pine trees and I can breathe again.

I seethe all night as I scrub the blood from beneath my nails.

Devils do bleed.