"Don't you want to hurt me as much as I hurt you?"
"I want to rip your heart out."
"Do it, then. Fuck me like you hate me. And rip my heart out."
***
Everyone at Fairmont High School knows that Cleo Fitzgerald is to blame for putting her boyfriend...
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DAX AGE 19
IT'S BEEN TWO MONTHS since I got into that stupid fight at Brookes' Halloween party. Two months since I let Cleo fuck and chuck me for that Reynolds asshole. I still can't believe she's marrying him. A world where Cleo isn't mine feels so fucking wrong. Even now, my chest gets too goddamn tight whenever I think about them, so I try not to think at all. It's better to be numb.
Necessary for my sanity.
Becoming mindless and senseless is the only way I can keep going. To keep breathing. My heart no longer beats for anyone except myself. Right after I left LA, Cleo called me twice and then texted a few more times. Not once did I reply to her bullshit. I can't let Cleo sink her claws into me again. I'm done with her. It's time to move on from the hell she dragged me through. She has her own life to live, and I have mine. My future is with the military. Not her. I need to pull my head out of her ass and focus on completing missions without letting my fellow brothers and sisters in arms get wounded—or killed.
On record, I've been deployed to Germany.
Off record?
I can't tell you where they really sent me. But I've been transferred elsewhere because of the dent I made in enemy forces during my last deployment. This assignment they gave me has nothing to do with the Army. My new teammates and I are part of a special unit, but we're not Green Berets. The public isn't supposed to know about what we do. They don't call anyone by their God-given names here. Everyone has a code name. Anonymity is key.
Like Maggot. Shit personality. But he has a talent for worming his way inside enemies' heads to always stay two steps ahead.
Or Tank. This one's pretty straightforward. The guy's built like a motherfucking tank, and he can tear any grown-ass man apart with his bare hands.
And Miss Hyde. She's the shyest lady you'll ever meet. Until she gets her hands on a flamethrower. Swear to God, never seen a bigger pyro in my life.
They call me Grim. Mine's self-explanatory. Because bodies tend to pile up whenever I'm around.
Back at Fairmont, my teachers rode me hard for being such a failure. None of them believed I could graduate as a senior. Bitches can eat their fucking hearts out. I might've been shit at school, but, apparently, I make a damn good killer.
During the party, I told Brookes that I was one of the best mofos in my unit. I lied to him. From day one, I've been the fastest, strongest, most merciless motherfucker. Whenever there's a gun or rifle in my hands, instinct takes over, and I know exactly what to do. Weapons become an extension of my body.
