Page 8 of Loving a Warrior

Shane glanced over to see Matt staring at him, his face inscrutable. Their eyes met just as a quiet voice from behind them said, “On your feet.”

“Feet!” the whole group shouted back as they leapt to standing. A powerfully built man wearing a long-sleeved blue T-shirt, khaki pants and boots walked around to face them. Shane bit back a groan. It was Salazar, the instructor who’d tried to kill him the day before. Great.

“Gimme a report.”

“Instructor Salazar,” Noah read off a muster board, “one hundred and two men assigned, one hundred and two men present.”

Salazar raised his voice. “Once again, gentlemen, welcome to Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training, otherwise known as BUD/S. My name is Raoul Salazar and I’ll be your introductory First Phase proctor.”

“Hooyah, Instructor Salazar!”

Salazar scanned the group of trainees. “This morning you’re gonna take the physical screening test. You’ve already passed it once, or you wouldn’t be here, but now you have to do it again. If you can’t pass it, your ass’ll be back to the fleet before breakfast. Understand?”

“Hooyah!”

“Let’s get started, guys. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Shane had no trouble with the five-hundred-meter swim or the sit-ups, but the push-ups made his palms throb with pain and opened up the abrasions he’d gotten on the rough asphalt of the grinder.

“C’mon, Hov,” Elias whispered, his clenched fist resting on the ground under Shane’s chest. “Touch my fist or the push-up don’t count, man.”

Gritting his teeth, Shane put his full weight on his hands, his gut roiling when the twenty-second mark was called and he realized he was trailing in the count.

“You can do it! Faster, Hov!”

Shane poured it on, and when the whistle blew, he’d made it with one push-up to spare. He rolled to his back and wiped his bloody palms on his utility pants, breathing hard. Fuck, he had to do better than this. The minimums meant passing, but doing just the minimum wouldn’t come anywhere near impressing the teams.

Get it together!

He blotted his hands on his pants while he waited his turn on the pull-up bar, but the minute he jumped to grab it, he lost his grip and crashed to the ground. Cursing, he tried again, same result.

“What’s the problem?” Salazar strode over and grabbed Shane’s right hand, raising his eyebrow at the mess. “Son, we have a medic with us at all times.” He nodded toward a pickup truck parked nearby. “Go see him.”

When Shane hesitated, Salazar said, “There’re times we want you to suck it up and push through it, but those are open wounds and bacteria runs rampant around here. Go get taped up.”

Tight-lipped, afraid he’d blown it, Shane went. The medic made quick work of cleaning the abrasions and treating them with antibiotic ointment before wrapping them tightly. When he returned to the line, Salazar approached him again.

“The culture of the SEAL teams is predatory, not gonna lie,” he said without preamble. “You probably saw some of that in the Marines.”

Shane nodded.

“If you got something to prove, prove it with performance. It always pays to be a winner.”

“Hooyah.”

“Don’t try to prove it by suffering in silence or hiding an injury. That just leads to more problems. Got it?”

“Got it, Instructor.”

The last test was a one-and-a-half-mile timed run along the beach in boots and utes. Matt took the early lead, ahead of the pack. It was high tide, which meant there was very little hard sand to run in. After some trial and error, Shane found a manageable spot right on the edge of the water, but soon his legs grew leaden as the sand collected on his boots and pants, dragging at him.

Still, he pushed on, surprised to find himself steadily gaining on Matt, his longer legs giving him the advantage. As he drew closer, Matt glanced over his shoulder, and while he didn’t speak, Shane could see the expression on his face: Oh, hell no.

The dude had been the top finisher all fucking day long, and suddenly Shane wanted nothing more than to take this from him.

“That’s all I want, asshole,” Shane gasped out. “For you to eat my goddamned dust.”

With a roar, Matt poured it on, but as they neared the finish, Shane managed to catch him and they crossed the finish line neck and neck.