CHAPTER 23

Bromm

‘W hat the fuck…?’

That was the question. If I’d known making a move on Arty would cause this kind of reaction, I never would have even considered it. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around such toxic behaviour, but it was plain and right in front of my face.

Arty was an angry male and was not someone I should be consorting with.

So why did I still ache to go over there and soothe all his hard edges? I wanted to make it all better, to hold him and let him work through these negative emotions until he was clear-headed and healing.

Was this why he was so stony and distant from us? Was he aware of his short-comings and trying to spare us the backlash when they were released? Or was it more selfish, a form of self-preservation? No one wanted an angry male with a short fuse on their team. They were a liability.

Or maybe it didn’t have anything to do with me at all. Maybe I had been a catalyst, triggering something that had already been festering, or perhaps it was completely unrelated to me. We’d had an entire day and night to sit with what happened between us, and he hadn’t behaved like this yesterday. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

Either way, it was crystal clear that Arty needed help. Except helping him was going to be nigh impossible if this was the armour we had to break through to reach the source of the problem.

But the more immediate problem was our lesson in Combat Training.

Someone was going to have to go head-to-head with Arty, and I wasn’t sure if they would come out of it unscathed.

Something had snapped in him this morning, and with the way Dorian was throwing uneasy glances at the other male, I would bet he knew something the rest of us didn’t about the cause.

As I approached him to ask, I noticed his neck was blooming in an array of vibrant colours, and I paused mid-step. He was a large man than most of us, his size only exceeded by Foryk’s. If Arty had managed to choke him out…

But then another thought struck me. What had Dorian done to make Arty attack him like that, and was he the cause of Arty’s dangerous mood?

A sudden fury rose up and moved my legs faster without my conscious decision. I found myself in front of him, glaring up at him with a rage that stemmed from confusion as well as justice.

‘What did you do to Arty?’ I hissed, not missing the fact that CWO Brin had said the same thing when she’d rounded on me last night. Arty had a few people in his corner it seemed.

His brows lifted, trying to hide in his hairline. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you . You were the one taking up the bathroom time this morning, even before Arty and we all know he showers first. You’re the one with the bruise around your throat. You were up before everyone else and interrupted the morning routine. You’re the only one who could possibly know what’s going on, and he clearly attacked you. So, what did you do ?’

He scoffed. ‘You took one look at the evidence of him attacking me , and you assumed I’m the one who did something wrong?’

The sound that ripped through my chest was borderline savage. ‘I won’t ask you again.’

He sighed, finally realising I wasn’t backing down. ‘I didn’t do anything. He was having nightmares, screaming in his sleep, so I woke him up. He had me pinned to the floor with his hand wrapped around my neck before I could blink. It was like he wasn’t even there, like he was a completely different person. His eyes were just… empty.’

It took a beat for me to process that information, but I deflated when I did. I didn’t want to confirm the suspicions that arose, but if we were going to be living in close quarters with Arthur Mercer, we needed to know. ‘Like… like a trauma response?’

His brows finally lowered at that, but they went even further as they dipped into a frown. He contemplated his answer before he spoke. ‘Yeah. I didn’t think about it before, but it was exactly like a trauma response. He even warned me not to wake him again, like he didn’t have any control over it.’

‘Something happened to him. In the past. Something bad.’

Neither one of us spoke after that, both of us processing the revelation. The squeak of shifting feet on the mats nearby clued us in that we had a captive audience, and I silently berated myself for causing a scene. Foryk, Henrik, Urman and Cadmus were watching our exchange, barely daring to breathe. I couldn’t discern if they were just eager for drama or answers, but I decided it wasn’t the time to get into it when Corporal Stanson whistled for our attention.

The only consolation was that Arty was further away and focused on pummelling the stuffing out of a punching bag to witness the confrontation. Literally. It looked like the bag was about to rupture and spill its innards all over the mats. A second later I was proven right when the sand filling exploded all over the place.

‘Mercer!’ the corporal’s voice whipped out, both in shock and reprimand. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

‘You need better punching bags,’ was Arty’s terse reply.

It stopped the older man short. It seemed we weren’t the only ones in Arty’s line of fire today, and I was suddenly very concerned we would have to deal with more than the captain’s scowls in response.

‘Someone find the maintenance crew to clean this up,’ the corporal called out to no one in particular, and I was glad he seemed to clue in to the potential disaster if he called out Arty. But then he ruined it by pointing at him and doing just that. ‘ You, go cool down before you destroy anything else.’

Arty stormed out without an argument – thank the stars – not even bothering to change back into his uniform before the door whizzed shut behind him. If he could have slammed it, I was sure he would have done so hard enough to knock it off its hinges. And take some of the wall with it.

'All right, enough of that. Mind your business and gather ‘round!’ the corporal berated those of us still standing around gawping, gazes flickering between the mess on the floor and the door Arty left through. I didn’t know if he would be back to clean it up, but I didn’t think Corporal Stanson cared much so long as he wasn’t destroying anything else on the training deck.

‘Should we… I don’t know, do something?’ Henrik asked.

‘Leave him,’ Foryk rumbled, but it wasn’t an angry sound. Instead, he seemed contemplative.

‘What the big guy said,’ Dorian piped in. ‘He needs to get his head screwed on straight and ambushing him isn’t going to help.’

‘Aren’t we supposed to be guarding him, though?’ Cadmus asked, his voice low to avoid unwanted listeners. At first he seemed like a stuck-up asshole, but the more I got to know him the more I saw that he was a good guy with a decent head on his shoulders. Sure, he put his foot in his mouth more often than not, but ‘misunderstood’ was the best way to describe him. My respect for him was slowly growing.

‘I don’t think he needs much guarding right now,’ Foryk deadpanned, pointedly eyeing the destroyed punching bag.

I wanted to laugh, but the noise that came out of me was strangled and strained. More than anything, I was worried about him. I wanted answers, to see if I really was to blame for all of this. The guilt would eat at me until I knew for sure either way. I needed to know what was wrong so I could fix it, even more so if I truly was at fault.

If so, I hadn’t meant to offend him so thoroughly, and I was suddenly ashamed of how I had assumed his behaviour was toxic. Difficult, perhaps, but I already knew he wasn’t a bad person. I shouldn’t have let my faith in him wane, especially when he needed people on his side even more right now. He had proved on more than one occasion that he was ready to back his team when necessary, and there was no way his actions today were anything other than him struggling to maintain his composure while overwhelmed.

I kept replaying what had happened between us in my head throughout the rest of Combat Training. I was partnered with Henrik because we were the closest in height and build, but my distraction cost me frequently as I was consistently slammed to the ground. I had the least experience with any form of combat out of all of us, so I really did need to pay attention. I just couldn’t.

No matter how much or how hard I flipped through the information I had about Arty, I simply could not figure out what it was that triggered him. His reaction was extreme and completely befuddling, and I could not figure out how to be there for him if he was so determined to push us all away. All I could come up with was to support him from a distance until he was able to calm himself down.

Or maybe that was the issue.

I stared at the punching bag’s guts scattered at the edge of the mats, begging them to give me an answer. But maybe they were the answer. Maybe he needed to destroy a few things to get it out of his system.

The idea took root, and I ran through a few different ideas for how to accomplish it while we showered, changed, and rode up the decks towards our new room for the midday meal.

Foryk elbowed me as soon as we entered, gently nudging me away from the others for a bit of privacy. ‘What’s got you thinking so hard?’ he asked.

‘Arty.’

He scoffed, but it wasn’t mean. ‘Obviously. Why, though?’

I didn’t want to go into too much detail, but I’d already told Reece, Brin and the captain, so my closest friend shouldn’t be that big of a leap. It just didn’t sit well with me that I’d told anyone at all, but since that ship had already disembarked, I spilled.

‘A couple nights ago, when you left us so we could talk, I said we didn’t,’ I began.

‘I remember.’

‘Well, we might not have talked, but we did… kiss. Passionately.’

His forehead crinkled as the thick black line above his eyes rose at his shock. His spikes quivered as they bristled, the only other outward sign of his emotions. ‘And you thought that was a good idea?’

I scowled at him, not liking the way he was placing blame on me when I wasn’t the only participant, so I said as much. ‘He was into it, then when things got… spicier, he shut down on me and left.’

I didn’t know why I left out how he’d pinned me by my throat and threatened me, or how it had turned me on when I thought he was taking charge and being rough with me. I honestly didn’t believe he would hurt me, even with his actions today, and with how it already felt like I was breaking his trust by telling people. I didn’t want Foryk – or anyone else, for that matter – thinking the worst of Arty. Especially after his most recent display.

I was fairly certain Foryk knew I wasn’t telling him everything, but he didn’t push or call me out on it. That was how we’d always been, though. Even when we’d shared lovers during our time on Burnos, he never asked too many questions. He got what he needed, and never crossed any lines. He was respectful, kind, and compassionate, despite his rough-around-the-edges demeanour.

I suspected it was because he had his own secrets to hide, but I didn’t try to drag those out of him, either. It was a large part of why our friendship worked so well.

‘That was two days ago, though,’ he reasoned.

I blew out a breath. ‘I know. But that’s all I know. He didn’t give me an explanation, just said it was never going to happen again and that was that.’ I shrugged.

‘If it really is a trauma response, then you’re not at fault. He needs to work through it himself. He needs to want to,’ he concluded.

I was nodding along my agreement. ‘I know, I do, but I still feel there’s something I should be doing to help.’

His eyes bored into mine, probing and searching. ‘You like him.

I gave him a look that suggested he was a bit slow. ‘He’s not a bad guy, regardless of the way his emotions got the better of him today. Of course I like him.’

‘No,’ he shook his head and pierced me with his intent gaze. ‘You have feelings for him.’

It was my turn to shake my head. ‘I barely know the guy, Foryk. There’s no way I like him that much.’

His stare was starting to make me uncomfortable. It was as if he was looking right through me and seeing things I didn’t know we even there. ‘Love sneaks up on you like that,’ was his completely absurd response.

‘I’m not in love with Arty,’ I protested.

He merely smirked. ‘Not yet.’

And then he walked away, leaving me to stare at his retreating back with my jaw on the floor.

The man was insane, there was no doubt about it.

Except, the longer I stood there mulling over his words, the more they started to make sense. No, I wasn’t in love with Arty. Attracted to him, yes. I cared about him, sure. But love? It was far too soon for such a compounding, life-altering emotion. But the stirrings of it, maybe …

I resolved to dig deeper into those thoughts and emotions another time. Right now, I needed to focus on Arty and his needs, and how I could help him. But first, I needed to talk to the captain, because I had a feeling he was the only one who might be able to help.

After this morning, however, I just hoped he was willing to listen…