Page 26 of Burn for Me

Ten

8-30-2024

This mission will destroy me in more ways than I initially thought.

-Jasmine

Staring into the uneven mirror, I don't see the put-together woman I once was, but I can recognize some similarities. I still wear my hair tied up high and tight, and my shoulders are just as straight as they've always been. However, my clothes aren't as stylish, and jewelry no longer decorates my skin.

I tuck my white tank top into my cargo pants and ensure my boots are tied properly. My father loved how composed I appeared when I was younger. My sundresses were neverwrinkled, and my hair always framed my face like my mother’s and little sister’s. That was only because he never realized what I had to endure to reach that level… or maybe he did.I’d rather not know.

I survey the room once more before stepping out. I've experienced this feeling plenty of times—the sensation of being watched—but there are no flashing red dots in this room, and there’s hardly any space for a person to hide. I’m sure the stress of everything is piling up, making my mind look for a distraction.

Just as the door clicks shut, I’m startled by a voice.

“I was just looking for you!” Moe exclaims. I don't know how he’s always so happy, but I appreciate it anyway.

“You're always looking for me.” I laugh.

“Yeah, well, we’re going to be doing some shooting today. Light work—just a run-through of what we've been practicing.”

I'm already five steps ahead of him, nodding as he rambles.

“Honestly, you can think of it more as a warm-up before you get the real action.”

I hiss at the temperature change as I step onto the landing deck from the back entrance. The mist from the waves crashing against the boat clings to my skin, and the sun beams on the metal platform, creating unbearable heat.

“I highly doubt Sam is going to let a gun anywhere near me, but thank you for the enthusiasm,” I mutter. Looking across the area, I spot Sharkie standing at a comical distance from a makeshift sparring mat. Everyone knows better than to get too close when Sam is training, but my feet carry me forward despite that.

He has proven that I can be near him. I can punch, push, scream, or cry, and he can take it.

"I’d trust you with one," Moe says as he steps beside me. However, I can't concentrate on his words; I'm too distracted by Sam's shirt clinging to his body, soaked with sweat. Tide throwshis arms over his face as Sam straddles him, but instead of hitting Tide, he punches the ground beside his head. There is so much restraint in his actions, but the struggle is evident in the way his brows furrow and his breathing becomes uneven.

I want to understand why he thinks he’ll lose control when he keeps proving he has it together. But now that I’m seeing it through the lens of his fears, it almost makes sense.

"Let's go!" Sharkie shouts from behind me. I turn my head to look at her, casually twirling a knife between her fingers while Moe hurries to her side.

Unlike Moe, who craves knowledge, I feel the opposite.Not knowing is better.I reluctantly follow Sharkie but glance back at Sam, watching me walk away. I smirk and exaggerate the sway of my hips with each step.

Four encasement rooms occupy the landing pad, taking up a quarter of the makeshift training area and reminding me of base. Moe darts into one booth while Sharkie steps into another, still spinning that annoying knife.

I hate to admit it, but I’m jealous of her. Despite everything, she found the love she needed and never changed. She stood firm in her beliefs andstillwon, even as our enemy.

I wish I could be open about my mistakes while standing by my reasoning. I want to be strong enough to fight for my beliefs and what I want.

A sharp shove jolts me, and I glare at a scowling Sharkie.

“Focus. I don't plan on being shot today just because you couldn't get out of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Shark.” I hum, relishing in the aggravated grunt she lets out as she thrusts a pistol in my direction. My humor quickly fades, and I'm left frozen, only able to stare.

“You load, aim, and–” Sharkie takes my hand with an annoyed huff, sarcastically forcing it to wrap around the cold metal.

“I know how it works.” I bite out.I just don’t like the position it puts me in.It makes me realize that I'm choosing a side. Everything I've been preventing will burn to ash at my feet if this goes sideways. Either way, the people I care for will get hurt. Her brows furrow, and she studies me, but I refuse to look at her, opting to focus on the target hanging from a cable at the end of my booth.

A beautiful red dot is in the middle, begging me to pull the trigger, but as I aim and shoot, I hit the corner of the sheet on purpose. Sharkie steps behind me, correcting my stance into one I know all too well, and steps back again.

“Have you talked to Sam?” She asks calmly, and I shrug, hitting the bottom right corner of the sheet.No. He's been at a distance since that fantastic breakfast, just as expected. I found the mask he left behind when I drunkenly stumbled through my door the other night. I won’t admit how I held it to my nose out loud or how his scent eased me to sleep instead of a pen and paper.

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