killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 11 •

Falling in love was a very similar feeling to taking a leap of faith into the water below.

Falling in love with Everett Saunders was one hell of a ride. It was intense, blowing up in her face like a firework, all the pink fog over her eyes, clouding her mind, making her do stupid things. She had a very impulsive personality, but Everett just doubled things: whenever he had an idea, she was eager to stick with him, through good and bad.

The two of them were like the perfect match: both of them fiery, impulsive, and way too reckless for their good, with a sharp mind. They had nothing to lose apart from each other, their will to make the most out of their lives grew by each day. They felt like they had all the time in the world until Everett got addicted to drugs.

Heroin ripped him out of her loving arms, twisting his soul in such ways that in the end, she could barely recognize him. Still, his death couldn't have been more painful than it was, the guilt chasing her into the cold arms of the US Army.

Slamming into the cold water was like the first night in the army, that changed everything. One of the many reasons that lead up to the very night another man decided to take a piece of her, forcing her to leave the army life behind.

Her booted feet touched soft soil, pushing herself off the bottom of the river, swimming upwards. With a gasp, she welcomed air in her lungs, her trauma clinging to her skin like her clothes, making her shiver despite the water being an okay temperature.

„You okay, Rora?" Alejandro's eyes met with hers, worry and urgency glistening in his eyes as he took in her appearance. Locking her cold eyes with his, she tried to embrace the warmth of his gaze, trying to grasp a recent good memory.

°•○●⸸●○•°

„Alejandro!" Soap greeted with a grin as they approached a man, getting off the helo they flew to Mexico.

For most of the ride there she was asleep, her head propped against the rifle that was cradled in her arms, missing her black German Sheppard, Kilo dearly. Usually, she slept with Kilo in her bed, his warmth and weight being the only thing that could calm her down after a nightmare or a panic attack, but right now, she had to sort it out by herself.

„Sergeant MacTavish," the dark-haired man beamed, his hands clasped behind his back, posture straight. Her eyes scanned his body, noticing the authority in his stance, his eyes being warm despite the cold exterior.

„Call me Soap," the Scotsman shook hands with the man, called Alejandro by Soap. His dark eyes quickly jumped to Ghost, then Rora, standing at the side, watching the interaction silently.

Rora stood between the two men, her hands clasped behind her back, straightening her spine, coming to her full height. Despite her attempts and a few extra inches because of her booth, she was still the smallest member of the group, Ghost towering over her at least by a head, while Soap was more of a friendly comparison to her height. He was still tall, but it wasn't as menacing as Ghost on her left.

„Lieutenant..." Alejandro's eyes snapped back to Ghost, his gaze lingering for a moment on his balaclava. In the sunlight, he looked slightly less scary. „Laswell says they call you Ghost."

„Actually, I believe he prefers to be-" Soap started, excitement glinting in his eyes as a small smile pulled at his lips.

„That'll do!" Ghost bellowed, his loud protest cutting off Soap in whatever he was saying. Shooting the male Sergeant a death glare, he managed to shut Soap up, earning a low chuckle from Rora.

God, it was amusing to watch when he got to the edge of his patience when his sudden anger wasn't directed at her.

Alejandro's brow slightly creased at the weird behavior, but the sound of a light chuckle directed his gaze to Rora, her biting her bottom lip, trying to hide the grin that was pulling at her lips. With the heavy gaze of Ghost burning a hole in the side of her face, it still proved to be a difficult task.