Heathens & Hand Grenades (Book 1 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 49- Riggs

Sand in my boots. Again.

I could just ignore it until we get back to base. Yeah, the gritty, dry texture makes every off-balance step feel like I'm walking on quicksand, but it's what I signed up for.

Three more years and I can be out of this burning hellhole and back home, eating my grandmother's cooking fresh from the pot instead of semi-preserved out of glass jars in my monthly care packages. When the guys don't manage to steal some. I swear, her biscuits and blackberry jam are like contraband out here. Kace has taken to hiding a jar and tin in his pillowcase. She always sends extra for the two of us.

"Thank you for the opportunity to get out in the field Sir," the tech says for what must be the fifth time since I told him to load up.

"You don't have to call me Sir all the time Rossi. Makes me feels old," I tell him. We're both E-4s, but either my age or something still had him looking up to me.

"Sorry Sir," he eagerly apologizes. Probably doesn't even realize he did it again. I scrub my hand down my face in exasperation. Jenkins laughs before cutting himself off at my quick glare.

Watching Rossi around camp and the way he jumped at damn near every raised voice shouldn't have made me feel anything for the poor kid. Another kid thrown into a sandbox way too big for him to be playing in. He honestly had no business being here with the rest of us rough and tumble assholes and he and everyone around knew it. Too smart, too weak, and couldn't hide any of it from the guys here because they didn't have a life plan, too violent for polite society, and too dumb to become serial killers without getting caught before they ever hit serial stage. He was the perfect prey for those who wanted to bully someone they thought of as better than them but too insecure to figure out that's what it was and change themselves. I hated guys like that. Grew up surrounded by dudes that had a chip on their shoulders the size of Big Tex.

So, I kept an eye on him. Must not have been too subtle about it or my best friend just knew me like the back of his hand, because he took on my little charity case too.

The day I realized he wasn't a hopeless brain in boots came on the tail of Anderson's puce colored face, veins straining against his thick sun freckled skin calling for Sarge. His braincells must've fled when all the blood rushed to his head otherwise he wouldn't be yelling like a damn toddler throwing a fit. Anderson had been the worst of Rossi's tormentors and Kace and I pulling him aside to straighten him out had only put a pause on his actions. Within a week he was back at it, worse now that he had been called out on his behavior.

"Latrine duty again?! I've been stuck on that shithole rotation for two weeks straight!" He yelled, ignorant of the small crowd he had drawn. Dumbass. The rest of us knew better than to even raise our voice at Sarge for anything other than chants and a swift 'Yes Sir', especially in the presence of the other companies.

"Since you seem so enthusiastic about that shithole Anderson, consider it your sole duty for the next month. Hope you packed extra waders." How Sarge managed to both yell and calmly state the punishment was a masterclass.

The mirth that lit up Rossi's face before he quickly wiped it away and ducked back into his work station's tent settled it. I don't know how he managed it and he had never admitted it, but we knew. We were adopting that sneaky little fucker.

Getting him into the field and outside of his little tech bubble had been a stroke of luck and a stockpile of goodwill and trust from my superiors. It was just a normal supply run. Normally it'd be handled by grunts, but with Rossi wanting to pick up a few parts from one of the other bases, it was easier just to take him along I argued. We'd meet the other soldiers at the airfield, trade and head back. Simple enough, but here he was acting like we were heading to Disneyworld. They really needed to let the brainiacs leave their fortress of solitude more often.