Fearless: Complicated Creatures Part Three (78 page)

Sam smiled blithely and shrugged, pulling her hand back before she handed him one of the books off her stack. “So I thought we could research some clinically proven methods to detect deception using psychology, linguistics, and body language.” Sam glanced at him askance. “What do you think?”

“I like it,” Chris answered with a broad grin.

Pleased, Sam opened one of the books from the stack. “We don’t have time to run labs or trials, but I found plenty of examples in studies that have already been done on body and language analysis. We just need to find consistent patterns to support our theories.”

Chris picked a book from her stack. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when you turned me down for a date, but if this pans out, we’re definitely getting an A. And trust me when I say I’m
really
happy about that.”

“I can tell you’re not lying,” Sam teased.

Chris watched her for a moment, openly curious. “So why are you taking this class? Are you a psych major?”

Sam shook her head. “Modern Languages.”

Chris’s brows shot up. “Smart girl.”

“For your sake, I hope you didn’t think you were pairing up with a moron. This paper is worth a third of our grade this semester,” she remarked, reading through the table of contents.

Chris leaned forward. “I knew for a fact I was pairing up with the prettiest
and
smartest girl in the class.”

“You’re a terrible flirt, Chris,” Sam replied with a smirk. “I don’t know who that crap works on, but God help the girl it does.”

“I do all right.” He looked momentarily bemused. “Until you, that is,” he admitted. “So what are you planning on doing with that big brain of yours?”

“Not sure yet,” Sam admitted. “I’m in ROTC, so I’ll definitely be in the service right after school. Figured having multiple languages under my belt would be a useful thing nearly anywhere.”

“How many languages do you speak besides English?”

“Five.”

“
Dayum
…” He raised his brows. “Which ones?”

“Spanish, Japanese; I’m learning Mandarin, and I speak a bit of Cherokee and French.”

“How do you know Japanese and Cherokee?”

“My mother was Japanese. She taught me growing up. And I stuck with it after she died.” She smiled briefly. “Guess it made me feel close to her to read her books. My father still had all his course materials from the military when he was stationed in Japan, and he hired me a tutor.”

“And the Cherokee?” Chris asked, clearly impressed.

“My granddaddy was full Cherokee.” She smiled, remembering. “He was just about my favorite person in the world.”

“So you doing the ROTC thing cause your dad served?” Chris asked.

“My daddy and granddaddy were both in the Navy,” she told him. “I grew up listening to their stories. Always thought I’d want to go on my own adventures one day. How about you?” she asked. “What’s Chris Fields all about?”

“I’m studying communications and journalism. Figure I gotta have a backup plan in case I don’t make the NFL.”

“Smart guy,” she quipped.

Chris rolled his eyes. “For your sake, I hope you didn’t think you were pairing up with a dumb jock for a paper worth a third of our grade.”

“Touché.”

“So where’s home?” he asked after a moment.

“Oh, a ranch a couple hours away,” she replied. “Had the chance to go to school up north, but I’m really close to my little brother. I know it’s not cool to say, but I miss him like crazy most of the time,” she admitted. “He’s coming to campus in a few days with my dad.”

“No, I get it.” Chris pulled out his wallet, flipping a worn and weathered photo out. “I’m from a big family down in Galveston. Freshman year, I missed my mama’s cookin’ so much, I nearly cried the first time she came up here to visit with a pot full of her chili.”

Sam smiled, admiring the candid shot of his family. “It’s a damn shame you’re the ugliest of your brothers,” she teased.

“Ain’t it, though?” he grinned good-naturedly.

“That’s a great photo,” she told him, handing it back.

“Thanks. My roommate took it freshman year. He’s a photographer.” Chris slid the photo back into his wallet. “Guess I should’ve taken better care of it. It’ll probably be worth big bucks one day.”

“Why?”

He looked surprised. “You didn’t hear? He won this award. It’s gonna be in the paper soon.”

“No kidding?” Sam began flipping through the book in front of her, continuing her research.

“Yup,” Chris nodded. “The portrait is hanging over in the Student Center. You should check it out when you get the chance.”

“Sure,” she replied, already distracted. “Let’s get rolling on this. I can’t stay late. Got an early morning tomorrow. We’ve got another obstacle course to get through.”

“Really?” Chris’s brows shot up. “I’ve always been curious what those are like.”

“You never know what you’re up against until you show up,” she admitted. “Could be running miles through mud while they stab us with pitchforks for all I know.”

“Pretty sure that’s hell, Sam,” he commented. “You get pitchforks
after
you kick the bucket. Not before.”

She shot him a wry look. “Clearly, you’ve never trained to be in the military. SEALs are famous for saying the only easy day was yesterday. So quit burning daylight,” Sam told him with a smile. “We’ve got an A to make.”

*

September—Thursday, Early Morning

Camp Swift, Bastrop County, Texas

S A M A N T H A

The cool morning
air washed over her as she picked up her pace, passing Alejandro and another couple guys on the obstacle course, her eyes on the slowly brightening horizon. Morning runs had become part of her ritual since she’d joined ROTC freshman year. They were almost a relief compared to the hard labor she’d had to do before dawn on the ranch growing up. She’d take a fast jog through an obstacle course any day over wrangling steer to pasture before the caffeine kicked in.

“You better run fast, pisshead!” Alejandro yelled. “We’re coming for you!”

Sam
hated
that moniker with a vengeance. But like freshman year, she bore it silently, focusing on the massive wooden planks ahead of her, a significant hurdle if she didn’t pick up enough speed to make the hardscrabble.

Today was another timed elimination event, and the obstacle course was built for men at least a head taller than her. She had to work twice as hard at every turn, but she’d grown up like that on a ranch full of cowboys and roughnecks, so she’d learned to get over the unfairness a long time ago. She had to be twice as fast and twice as smart to keep up, so she took to running flat-out to each section in the first third of the course, giving herself more time to meet each tall wall, each rope swing, each ridiculously difficult ladder.

Sam gauged the barrier ahead of her to be about eight feet tall with a slight slope. She skipped hard the last few steps with a burst of speed, scrambling a couple feet up the planks before grasping the top with a quick clench so she could swing her legs over. Sam glanced down in time to see the water waiting for her below.

Oh, shit—

The momentum was already carrying her down. Sam hit the water hard, a surprised yelp coming from her mouth as the cold wetness flooded her fatigues, simultaneously shocking her and weighing her down in the slop. She popped back up for air just as Alejandro came over the barrier. Sam scrambled in the muddy water to get out of the way, but her water-logged fatigues billowed around her like inflatables, and she just couldn’t move fast enough.

The heel of Alejandro’s boot slammed into her back so hard it knocked the wind out of her. Sam opened her mouth in a pained gasp as she was dragged down into the murky water. She felt his knee dig into her side, making her gulp reflexively, her mouth filling with liquid and mud.

Sam flailed, drowning as Alejandro gripped her arm and her shoulder, holding her facedown in the muck. Thick, dirty fluid seared her lungs as she fought for air, her arms and legs flailing uselessly as he held her down. Seconds passed in blind, wet pain. Sam toed the edge of unconsciousness, everything blurring, her lungs on fire, desperate for oxygen.

A moment passed, and then another set of arms grabbed her and jerked her up. Disoriented, Sam was distantly aware of being dragged out of the water as she gasped for air, coughing and spluttering in painful, wheezy bursts. She was laid out on the bank, water streaming down her face as she gripped the slippery earth in relief, hacking.

“She okay?” she heard someone call out.

“Yeah—I got her!” Alejandro responded. He smacked her hard on the back, making her cough up more water. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he leaned close to her.

“See how easy it is for me to take you out, Wyatt?” he murmured into her ear, too low for any of the other cadets working their way past them to hear. “You don’t belong here.”

Sam coughed again, glaring at him through tearing eyes, anger only highlighting her humiliation and her helplessness as he held her down. She should have knocked his knees out, she should have put him in an arm pin and snapped that thing clean off.

“Eyes on the ground, pisshead!” he hissed.

He grabbed her head, slamming it hard into the dirt. Sam saw stars, finding the hand gripping her hair, fingers gliding uselessly from the slippery wet of the mud. She couldn’t gain purchase. She was dazed and sloppy now, probably half-concussed, unable to fight him off.

“You will disqualify from the competition today,” Alejandro continued, close to her ear. “Or I’ll make sure you’re disqualified permanently. You get me?”

Sam’s only response was another round of hacking coughs as she expelled the leftover water in her lungs. Satisfied, Alejandro released her just as Rita waded over.

“My God,
is that Sam?”
Rita called out. “Alejo, is she okay?”

“Nearly drowned,” he replied, false concern coloring his tone. “I pulled her out just in time, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to finish.”

“Talk to me,
mija
.” Rita dropped beside her, pushing her friend’s hair out of her eyes as Sam climbed slowly to her hands and knees. “Are you all right?”

Sam coughed again, spitting up more dirty water. Her eyes were tearing now more from anger than anything else as she sat back on her haunches.

Satisfied that he’d gotten his message across, Alejandro jumped back into the water to finish the course.

Rita slapped her back a couple more times, worry in her dark eyes. “What happened?”

“Just go,” Sam wheezed out, pushing her muddy hair back. “You need to make up the time—don’t worry about me.”

“Bullshit, don’t worry about you,” Rita argued. “I only joined this goddamn Challenge because you need me. You think I don’t know I’ll never make the final team?”

“I don’t need you, Rita.” Sam shook her head. “You’re good enough to be here, and you’re plenty good enough to make the final cut—” She coughed hard one last time and wiped a hand down her face. “I don’t want to bring you down.” Sam saw a herd of cadets launch over the barricade, each falling into the water to begin the swim across the channel toward the next set of obstacles.

Rita jutted her chin out. “I’ll go when you’re ready.”

Sam glanced down at her watch. “Shit, Rita, I’ve already lost a few minutes. I don’t know if I can make it up.”

Rita shrugged. “So then let’s sit here and watch everyone else kick our asses.”

Sam glared at her.

“Look,
jaina
—you were at the head of the pack, and now you’re closer to the back,” Rita told her frankly. “You can sit here and mope like a little bitch, or you can get your ass back in that disgusting mud hole and finish the course with your head held high.”

“This from the girl who nearly puked in my car this weekend?” Sam muttered, standing.

The rest of the course was a long, painful drudge, but they made it to the finish just under the cut-off time. Sam was fueled with rage, imagining all the ways she was going to get her revenge when her time came. When Sam and Rita crossed the finish line, she saw Alejandro watching her, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Sam walked passed him, head high, just like Rita had suggested.
Gauntlet thrown, asshole
. She wasn’t going to take any of his shit lying down. And she definitely wasn’t going to step aside for him just because he was used to getting his way. They stared each other down for a handful of seconds. Sam felt a slow smirk develop, despite the pain she was in and the embarrassment she felt at having been nearly bested by him.

“Thanks for the ‘help’ earlier, De Soto.” Sam told him meaningfully, loud enough for the cadets around them to hear. “If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been able to finish,” her tone just this side of sarcastic.

Rita glanced back and forth between the two of them. She knew all about the tension between Sam and her cousin, and the chill just dropped another several degrees.