Crazy Girl by B.N. Toler

Author:B.N. Toler [Toler, B.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2017-08-13T18:30:00+00:00

Tools

Standing straight, my booted feet firmly planted, and my arms crossed, I stared at Henry Coppel, the new manager of training. I was doing little to control my expression, which most likely screamed the contempt I felt toward him. He’d been here a week, and I already wanted to throat punch him. As he spoke, I glanced over at Kegs who was standing just like me, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He was clearly pissed. We both were.

“I want a complete rewrite of the course with new PowerPoints,” Henry asserted as he attempted to make his physical presence more intimidating by deepening his voice and puffing out his chest. Just one good punch, and I’d lay his ass out. “I want it done yesterday. We’re going to get this place running right, boys.”

Boys?

He called us boys?

My hands itched, and I could feel Kegs bristle beside me.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Glancing over my shoulder, obnoxiously looking around the room, I snorted, “I’m sorry. Where are there any boys in here?”

Henry’s lip curled up, almost as if he thought I was being funny, as he cut his eyes to me. “Sorry, Marner. Didn’t mean to insult your delicate feelings,” he snickered.

Oh, he had jokes now.

I let out a haughty and over-the-top laugh. “I tell you what, Henry.” I scratched at my beard. “Why don’t we meet out by the woodline?” His eyes widened in surprise, or maybe I’d scared him a bit. I was challenging him to a fight and he didn’t like that. “I’d like to show you just how delicate I am,” I added when he didn’t respond. Back in the day in the Marines, when two men disagreed or couldn’t get on the same page—maybe because one was just an asshole, or maybe because there were two alphas and only one alpha could lead the pack—they’d fight it out. This wasn’t the kind of fight you see in boxing, two guys with padded gloves in a roped-off ring. This was bare-knuckled, bar-none fighting. No rules but one—the last one standing wins. This type of behavior was “officially” frowned upon in the Marines, but it still happened. And when two soldiers agreed to hash it out and returned the next day with bruised and lacerated faces, no one said a damn word because the disagreement had been settled. I’d met many men by the woodline and more so than not, I’d been the victor, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t gotten my ass beat a time or two. And there was no shame in that. It taught me something and made me tougher. The funny thing was, after it was all said and done, after we’d beaten and bloodied one another, everything was all right. In fact, in quite a few instances I became good buddies with the men I’d fought. This method of settling a disagreement might sound unorthodox to some, but it worked. Nowadays, everything was so politically correct, and there were few men with any backbone.

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