Breaking Through by D. Nichole King Page A

ass.”
    I nod. “True. Especially when someone’s handing it to you.” I wink. “Speaking of, how’re your afternoon sessions with Britta going?” I tease, knowing full well how they’re going because, well, it’s Britta.
    “Like I want to shove all of her fucking pronunciations up her ass and watch her get eaten by a shark.”
    “That well, huh?”
    “I’m actually looking forward to squashing her into the mat today. No more pointers.”
    Then right on cue, my alarm clock goes off. I slap it immediately and glance at Kray.
    “If Riley doesn’t squash us first,” I say, sliding off my bed.
    “Oh. So, it’s Riley now, is it?” He sings Riley’s name.
    I slug him playfully in the stomach, but I feel a grin creep across my face. “Shut up.”

One of the things I like about Nautia is her ability to jump back into the game as if she’d never left. She missed two days again this time, but she pushes herself through the rigorous morning workout without complaint. Drenched in sweat and panting when we finish, she hangs her head over the side of the railing. Beside her, Britta does the same, except Britta is puking her guts out.
    “Here,” Nautia says, holding out a freshly formed ball of water. “You’ll feel better.”
    Britta looks at her like she doesn’t want to take the offering and longs for it at the same time. Finally, she relents. “Thanks.”
    Slowly, Nautia’s gaze wanders in my direction, and I look away before she can catch me staring. I shouldn’t be staring; I should be treating each one of these trainees equally, with equal time and equal help. Favoritism could get someone killed in battle. Feelings could get someone killed too, and I have plenty of those for the dark-headed girl whose mind is a mystery. I want to unlock it, then protect whatever comes out. Guard it with my life and save Nautia from herself.
    I’m leading two missions out here when I should be focusing on one. I have to concentrate. ’Cause if I don’t, people are going to die.
    I clap my hands to get everyone’s attention. I dismiss the crew members, none of whom are doubled over or hurling like the special officers. I’ll get the recruits there, though. I’ll make soldiers out of them, because that’s my job. What I’m out here to do.
    “Hand-to-hand combat today. Gym A,” I instruct, hardening my face and scanning the five people left on deck. I remind myself not to linger on Nautia. I’ve heard some of the rumors going around about us, and I understand people will talk no matter what I do, but I can’t give them reason to think we share more than a professional relationship.
    I can’t give myself reason to think there’s more.
    I spin and head below deck. For the first time since training began, I hear no grumbling behind me. I’m wearing them down at the same time I’m building them up. That’s what I need—strong soldiers who will obey without fail, without question.
    My plan is to test that today.
    This gym stays unlocked at all times for the crew members to use. In the evenings, it’s often host to two-on-two basketball matches. To my knowledge, none of the new recruits have used it, though. I’m working them too hard to do anything but train, eat, and sleep. I purposely created a traveling boot camp.
    Gibson, Kray, Nautia, Haskal, and Britta line up on the east side of the mat, waiting for their pair-ups. Britta’s face still maintains a pale shade of green, so I avoid her for now. There are two of them, however, I’ve never paired. Not because I think they’re outmatched, but because they know each other too well. For what I have planned today, their friendship is a good thing. Even though it’s unrealistic on the battlefield, having Nautia fight Kray might be the perfect exercise in overcoming emotions in combat.
    “Nautia. Kray. You’re up,” I say, pushing down the part of me that wonders if Nautia’s body and mind can handle Kray’s skill. Technically, she should be on bed