Page 7 of Mariposa (Queens Command #1)

VIOLET

EIGHT MONTHS UNTIL GRADUATION

D rowning is… not fun . I failed the first water portion test, and when I woke up, I thought that was it for me.

But Sergeant Booker made it clear I had one more chance after he brought me back to life.

Luckily, I passed the water portion on the second try without passing out or freezing.

I’ve never been so happy to complete a portion of the school.

I’m in the middle of Land Navigation when I faceplant into the dirt. My rifle flies from me. I cough, sending dirt into my nose. I huff and reach for my canteen, but it’s quickly kicked away into a pile of leaves.

I swear, it’s Willis.

I turn around to spit insults at the asshole, but I’m face to face with those mesmerizing but cruel green and blue eyes.

Master Sergeant O’Connell.

Beast .

He doesn’t like me. He makes it known every chance he gets with his deafening silence and glares. Still, it doesn’t deter me. It only fuels my ambition further.

“Get the hell up!” he snarls, and my heart jolts to my ass. Geez, he’s scary. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

Of course, I do everything I can to keep calm and collected. Sucking a deep breath into my lungs, I turn away from him. Every muscle aches, burns, and screams at me for rest, but my will to prove everyone wrong keeps me going.

Bite your tongue, Violet. Bite it off if you have to. Don’t give them what they want .

“Quit or die. Either way, you’re not going to make it.”

I get on my knees, push myself off the ground, and head for my rifle that landed by a tree trunk. When I get it, I swing it over my shoulder as he continues after me, crushing branches underneath his boots.

He’s trying to get in my head .

“You think you’re here, in my course, in my class because you’re good enough?”

Ignore him .

“No, it’s because your father was someone. But to me, you’re no one !”

Asshole . Lies . They’re just lies to get inside my head . He doesn’t mean it .

“You’re just another number to me. Twenty women have attempted to become special operators under my watch and all twenty have failed. What makes you so special?”

Don’t answer that .

Suddenly, a bolt of pain hits my shin, and I’m face-planting into the ground again. I don’t form any words, but a pained groan slips past my throbbing lips. He tripped me with a kick to the shin.

Dick .

Although a part of me is enjoying it. He’s treating me like the other male students, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I thrive off the pain. It makes winning that much more satisfying.

“Whoops,” he whispers into my ear as he bends his knees.

I can feel that signature sinister, brutal grimace he likes to wear when he’s around us, and when his cold breath whooshes against the shell of my ear, I shudder.

I’m still on my stomach, and I do everything I can not to throw an elbow at his perfect face.

“Ring the bell. Go home to your family,” he snarls as his scent surrounds me. His cologne, a masculine aroma of mint mixed with cedar, wafts into my nose, almost making me hate him less.

Almost .

“Ring the bell,” he orders me again. His voice is thick with rough demands.

Ringing the bell is code for quitting. He’s trying to get into my head and make me quit, but I won’t, and I love that it pisses off him and every other person who doesn’t want me to pass.

All of the instructors have this plan to make all the weak-minded soldiers quit in the early stages, but it won’t work for me.

I smile and bat my lashes at him forcefully to mask my dread. He stiffens like he wasn’t expecting it. He’s dressed in an all black shirt and pants, with shades of green, brown, and obsidian camo paint blended on his perfect face like the rest of us.

“No, Master Sergeant,” I chirp simply.

I stare at him, holding his piercing gaze while waves of wrath plow into my soul.

He doesn’t blink, and neither do I. Finally, after a few long seconds, he retracts himself from invading my space and walks away.

I stare at his muscular back, and that’s when I notice he has a back tattoo slowly making its way to the back of his neck.

I can’t tell exactly what it is. I lie to myself and say I don’t want to find out.

There are three things I’m absolutely certain of regarding the most beastly instructor here.

One—there are no gray areas when it comes to his mentality. There’s only right or wrong. Two, he’s never truly smiled. And three, whenever he’s around me, my heart beats a little faster and harder than it should.

I passed my first phase. I have a few days open before it’s back to course.

But I don’t stop training, even on my days off.

Before I hit the gym for the third time today, I have to stop by the post office on base.

I walk through the doors and go straight to my box number.

I place my key in, turn, and pull it open.

I expect an empty cabinet, but my eyes widen when I see there’s something inside.

It’s a miniature version of my grandmother’s blue bear that she keeps with her.

Did she do this?

I exhale a long breath to stop the sting in my throat from growing.

It’s a piece of home, and I’ve never been so happy to see a stuffed animal before.

Running my hands through the fur, I smile as I watch my once hardened gaze transform into bliss through the black beady eyes.

A closed letter is tucked at the bottom of the locker.

My eyes widen at the familiar handwriting.

It’s from my grandmother.

Tearing it open with my key, I pull out the aged, yellow-tinted, worn-out paper. It’s another one of Graham’s love letters to my grandmother. Something white behind it catches my attention before I can start reading.

There’s a separate note on a different sheet of paper.

Call me so we can read this one together. I’m so proud of you, mija.

Love, Grandma

I practically run back to my barracks. As soon as I shut my door, I sit at my desk and hit the FaceTime button.

August 25, 1965

Dear Grace,

When they called my name, I was shocked. It was mail day, and I was cleaning my gun. My heart sank, and I was confused but hopeful. It couldn’t have been my parents because they both died when I was young.

I prayed to God it was from you, and He answered.

So, when I grabbed this sealed envelope and saw your name, I knew it wasn’t over.

I think about you all the time. Your smile gets me through these missions. It’s only been a few weeks, and I already have three friends who are dead. I’m sure you’ll hear about it in the papers soon.

All I can say is thank you. Thank you for writing me a letter. I know you said you didn’t want to start anything with me because of my job…but this letter, Grace. This letter has made me feel like I can breathe for the first time in weeks. We will go to that beach when I return. I promise you.

All my love, Graham

“Grandma, this is the sweetest thing. I like Graham, but I’m scared to know what he did to make you choose my grandpa over him.”

Watching my grandma through a phone screen physically hurts. She rocks in her chair, knitting a blanket, and replies, “He was very sweet.”

Her trembling hands are evident even with the screen fighting for its life with the poor WiFi my phone is connected to. A shy smile curves onto her freckled face, and she sets down the blanket to trace the other letters like she’s eighteen again and still in love.

I wonder what that feels like.

I make sure to fold the letter the same way I received it. Dropping to my knees, I hide it under my bed to keep it out of sight. Standing, I brush my palms over my knees and sit on my chair again.

Grandma stops knitting. Her head hangs low, her hands on the knitting needles, and she doesn’t look up to meet my gaze.

I want to word vomit everything I’ve been going through and how badly I miss home, and simple things like buying yogurt at my favorite place downtown or sleeping in at least one day out of the week, but I know it’ll only stress her out.

She already has so much going on with her health. I can’t add to it.

“Tell me about Graham. What did he look like?”

Her face changes from a dark frown to a bright one like a Christmas tree.

“He’s tall, pero bien alto . Dark hair and light eyes. So handsome and a gentleman just like your grandpa. Your grandpa and I were coworkers at the restaurant where I met Graham. He would get jealous every time Graham came in to see me.” She waves her hand as if dismissing Grandpa’s past envy.

“Wait, was this a love triangle?”

I’m highly invested. I’m so focused on graduating and my career that I’m afraid I’ll never get to experience what love feels like without it hurting. Although there were times with Adam that were joyful, it still doesn’t erase his betrayal.

She tilts her head back and forth, contemplating. “Maybe, maybe not. You have to keep reading to find out.”

I clap my hands once, excitedly. “I can’t wait to find out why you chose Grandpa over him, and what he did to win you over.”

Bending over, I reach for more letters under the bed. Out of the corner of my eye, my grandma’s finger taps the phone, forcing me to stop. I’ve never seen her move that fast.

“One letter at a time! Ya te dije .” She scolds me loudly, raising one brow high and causing creases to form on her forehead.

“ Abuelita …” I pout.

“Look, I don’t want you to finish the letters before your graduation. Promise you’ll wait for me?”

“And what if I don’t make it?” My confidence shrinks momentarily. Beast is constantly watching me like a hawk, waiting for an opportunity to grill me until I say the words I quit .

“You will pass. Don’t talk like that,” she scolds me. “Just stay focused and confident.”

“Most of my instructors are waiting to see me fail. They want me to quit.” I roll my eyes, biting my nails nervously when Master Sergeant O’Connell comes to mind.

Tall, dark, handsome, and all mean. He treats and looks at me like I’m a nuisance he can’t wait to get rid of.

Every other instructor lets their guard down—even if it’s for a second to laugh with us.

However, Master Sergeant is a machine with no sense of humor.

I still think he’s a robot hiding underneath a meat suit.

“I promise you’ll pass,” she says comfortingly. Her eyes squint in a way that’s maternal and warm.

“I know I will, too.”

She nods supportively.

“Even though you won’t be home, I’m making flan for your grandpa’s birthday because I know it’s your favorite.”

A weight falls from my shoulders. She remembers his birthday coming up.

She remembers.

“Really?” I squeak, as my mouth waters, as I imagine the soft pudding-like texture melting in my mouth.

I’m so jealous !

“ Si , mijita . You know how it gets super hot after it’s freshly made, right? I’m going to let it cool down overnight, and your grandpa and I will have it in your honor. When it’s your birthday, I’ll make it for you, and your grandpa, and I will sing happy birthday.”

“I’m going to be twenty-two years old—that’s really not necessary.”

She snickers, “I will always consider you my baby. Even when you’re old and gray.

” She touches the phone screen as if playing with my hair, like she used to do whenever I was with her.

“You will always be my granddaughter.” She pauses, and the vibes in the room, in her tone, take a turn.

She holds onto my gaze, her eyes gray around the rims of her irises as she stares into my soul vehemently.

“And if I forget you…just know I will always love you. This disease might take my body, mija , but it will not take my spirit. And my spirit will always be with you.” A weak smile spreads across her cheeks.

My chest tightens, tears prick my eyes, and I throw my hands over my face. She’s the one who’s losing herself. I don’t have the right to cry—it’s selfish.

“Grandma, it truly isn’t fair that this is happening.”

I’m a mess. A complete and utter distraught mess, while I sob alone in my room. My lips shake, and my whimpers get drowned out by my palm. I embrace the bear to my chest and sniffle. Her staple floral perfume enters my senses, and I sob harder. It even smells like her.

My grandma is everything to me.

“ No lo puedo hacer. No puedo vivir sin ti. Eres mi mundo. Estoy perdida sin ti .” I can’t do this. I can’t live without you. You’re my world. I’m lost without you.

She’s taught me everything I know—my guide who has always taught me to choose a path of morals and faith.

She’s shown me unconditional love.

Why would God do this to my grandma? She’s the most dedicated Catholic. Her faith never fails in Him. I’ve prayed and asked the same question repeatedly since her diagnosis, knowing I’ll never get the answer to it. Death is a part of life, but I didn’t think this day would come, and the way it has.

As I continue to feel the stress of completing this school and all the built-up tension, her health hits me harder than it ever has before in a moment of clarity and harsh acceptance.

I’m going to lose her.

I’ve been so busy chasing my goals that I forget she’s dying. I can’t lose her. She’s…everything.

I’m lost in a land of darkness right now, and she is the light slowly fading away. I can’t fathom the thought of her not being here to talk to or hold.

I wish grandparents could live forever.

“Yes, you can. You’re strong. I taught you to be strong.

Fuerte . You are an Isla. You are a part of me.

You will always be okay.” She weakly smiles, holding back her own tears, and I nod, sniffling my unleashed, sullen outburst away.

“Now, I don’t want to see you shed another tear over this—make us all proud. ”

“Okay.”

I run a hand over my red face, forcing a smile–a mask. I have the worst feeling though, because I think Beast is just getting started with me. I’m not sure how many more fake smiles I have left.