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He refused to make eye contact. “It’s gotta be you.”
That…was as confusing as it was ego-boosting. But as long as I didn’t act on any attraction, I didn’t see the harm in taking a pinch of pleasure from his wanting me to train him.
“Why?”
My question evidently sparked more anger.
He glared at me. “Because you made me listen, you stupid fuck. How is that unclear? You gotta know what impact you make on others.”
I raised my brows.
“You have a way about you—don’t fucking make me explain,” he added irritably. “It’s so typical. You finally get an instructor who’s more than a robot, and he turns out to be a closed-off dick who won’t even talk to you.”
Christ. Sweet Danny. The more defensive he got, the more he revealed about himself. He could lash out all he wanted; it just gave me a better read on him. He hated showing his vulnerability. Given his background of being abandoned, who could blame him?
Unfortunately for me, it pulled me closer. It made me protective.
“You really don’t show any-fucking-thing in your expression.” That infuriated him. “Can you stop doing your mind-reading shit? I know about you SAS people.”
I smiled faintly. “I’m not reading anything you’re not letting me see. You’re an open book.”
“Fuck you.” He got off the couch, jaw set, rage barely contained, and I automatically reached over the armrest and grabbed his backpack. He was gonna storm off, and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would let him bring his belongings. I’d never see him again.
He was hotheaded enough to make a permanent decision based on temporary emotions.
“What’re you doing?” he demanded.
“I’m keeping your backpack here while you get your tantrum out of your system.” I tossed his sleeping bag farther up the couch and placed his backpack between my knees on the floor. “Go on, storm off. Curse me out and convince yourself this was a stupid idea. When you come back, I’ll change your mind.”
If looks could kill…
“It was a stupid idea,” he snapped. “I’ll get the money some other way. I won’t stand here and make a fool of myself so you can be all condescending and laugh at me. So fuck off, Payne. Gimme my backpack.”
He needed money? That was information I was interested in. The rest was just his projections.
“Do you hear me laughing?” I rose from my seat and kept his backpack behind me. “If you wanna make it as a PMC, you gotta stop filling the silence with unfounded guesses. I’m not condescending, I’m not laughing at you, I’m not rejecting you—I can train you, Danny. It wasn’t what I originally wanted for you, but that has very little to do with my own personal feelings. I’m only trying to look out for you.”
He continued to stare daggers at me, this time in silence. The boy was at war with himself. He knew he should cool down and listen to me. But that would require a level of trust. In order to lower his guard, he had to take that step and believe in me.
I took a step toward him, and he straightened automatically like the good soldier he was. At this point, the structure and order from the Army were second nature and undoubtedly a cushion of comfort to fall back on when he didn’t know what was going on.
He was so incredibly wounded, this boy.
“I will help you, Danny. But we gotta work on your insecurities—”
“I’m not insecure,” he scoffed.
“Yes, you are.” I leveled him with a patient but firm look. “You assume people think the worst of you, you constantly work for outstanding results in hopes someone will validate you—give you the time of day—but you push them away if their response takes a few seconds.”
I saw the anger ignite once more, and I predicted his next move before he could execute it and shove me away. Acting on instinct, I closed the distance between us and hugged him tightly. He went rigid and pressed his hands against my stomach, but it seemed he couldn’t make himself push.
“Do yourself a favor and stay quiet,” I told him. “I’m not gonna let go for a while, so get comfortable.”
I heard his shallow breath through clenched teeth, and I felt the tension radiating off him.
It made me tighten my hold on him.
I was committed.
