Page 36 of Steel Rain

He flinched against it. Looking down at it with disgust, before his eyes darkened, and came up to look at me. There was an anger there that he rarely showed anyone. That he never showed me until the night I ran away.

That’s right, fucker. Show everyone what you really are.

“Everyone circle up,” Ajax said. As everyone moved to obey his command, he snapped his fingers in front of my face, and with one accusatory finger, growled, “You stay to mop the fucking floors.”

I deserved that for spitting on them. I’d be mad, but … I’m sure he thought he was being reasonable. Even if he knew the whole story, most men turned a blind eye to this sort of thing.

God, I missed Guile. He was the only person I ever told, and the look in his eyes when I finally let the words out during a drunken evening over cigars … he was murderous. His brother had been assaulted. Then he took his own life. So, it was personal to him.

But none of this would matter to a man like Ajax.

He was just like any of the other ones.

When we were in a circle staring at coach, he looked each of us in the eye, and he finally started to speak.

“Jigoro Kano was born in Japan in 1860,” he said, his voice less commanding. Less of that Navy SEAL that I had come to know, and something else entirely. He was professorial. “Kano was a black belt in three different styles of Jiu Jitsu. He used his expertise to modify his Jiu Jitsu into what he called Judo— the gentle way.” Then his eyes landed on me. They were black, and full of accusation. “Kano wrote that ‘the pine fought the storm and broke. The willow yielded to the wind and snow and did not break’.”

He brought his hands in front of him, the fingertips touching lightly at the ends.

“I’m not dumb enough to try and tell a bunch of warriors to suddenly become pussy willows.” There was a slight chuckle from the people around, laughing at his lame joke. “But do not be so fooled as to think that the warrior’s way is the only way.” He opened his hands out wide, then shrugged. “I’m not saying that we should all become farmers, and start planting flowers, but …” he chuckled to himself, looking contemplatively at the ground. “Do not think that a soldier’s contribution is the only one. Or even the most important one. Because one day, you will be the pine that fights the storm.” Then his eyes were back on me. I wanted to look at the ground, or to look at an invisible spot on the ceiling. Anywhere, but his deep, black eyes. But I couldn’t. He had a hold on me that was entirely too fucking strong. “You will break. We all do. Every single one of us. And it will be the nursemaid, the mother, the gentle hand that puts you back together again. Respect the healers, as we respect ourselves. Defend others, as you defend your brothers. Respect all contributions, because you don’t know how much of themselves they have given to you.”

He let that sink in for a minute. Just like he did every class. Then he bowed. The men bowed back. I followed, though a bit delayed.

We all rose as one, and silently moved off the mat with the reverence that LeBlanc always demanded. No one spoke again until they were outside. No one ever did. That was a tradition in many dojos. Theoretically, it allowed the lessons to get into our heads, into our souls … it was a communal feeling. A reverence for the practice of martial arts – an art, as much as it was a fighting style.

I lingered.

Keith passed in front of me, giving me a long, sideways glance with a smirk.

I did nothing. I just stood there. Frozen like I had been all those fucking years ago. Weak. That’s what I was. I was weak.

When all the bags were picked up, and all the bodies shuffled out, I went to the supply closet, and pulled out the mop that was still filled with the detergent and water.

I’d stay here until the next meeting. The next training event would be held by Eoghan himself so I couldn’t skip it. But I wouldn’t go to the DFAC. Not with that snake glaring me down.

It meant I’d skip breakfast, but that was okay. It was better to hide in here like a coward, than risk it all by being in his presence.

I needed the breather. I needed a moment to feel safe.

“Christ, put that shit away.” Ajax was standing at the mat. He’d taken off his top and was in nothing but the trousers, cinched by a tied string at his waist. He had his arms crossed in front of him. “Care to tell me what I don’t know about you and Keith?”

Nope. That was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.

Chapter 17

Ajax

I’mnotanasshole.I wasn’t serious when I said she had to mop the floors. She just needed some kind of verbal reprimand for disrespecting the mat and the comradery the practice was supposed to create between its practitioners. Though, I suspected that she was justified in her reaction. Still, I couldn’t let it stand.

But she was being quite literal. Mop in hand, she was ready to scrub the mats, and there were a lot of them to clean.

“It seems that you have secrets,” I said, stepping into her space again. Her sweat smelled sweet and musky, like roasted almonds. She wasn’t sweet like a flower, but hardened and wild like a fucking tree.

“No more than the usual secrets every woman has,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Tell me, Senior Chief…” Her eyes roamed my body, not in a lewd way, but as if she was assessing me. The results of that assessment were probably inconclusive. “Whose secret are you?”

I narrowed my eyes. There was a disdain in her voice that I didn’t understand. There was an accusation there that I couldn’t fathom. It hovered in the air like smoke and slipped through my figures if I tried to grasp it.

“I’m no woman’s secret,” I finally answered her, and she lifted a brow in disbelief. A perfect, sharp, arched brow. Angular and mocking, just like the rest of her.

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