999 Tries Still Not His Girl novel Chapter 2

That line felt like a dull knife, sinking slow and deep into Olivia’s thorax.

She’d heard him say things like that a hundred times over the past three years, and every time, it still knocked the air out of her.

"Head to the field," Jack said, glancing at his watch. "Three miles. Recite the code as you run. Now. Move."

Olivia bit down hard on her bottom lip, the sharp taste of blood spreading across her tongue.

For a split second, she almost screamed back—

“I’m not interested in you either! I’m getting married soon, and then you’ll never have to see me again!”

But what would that even change? What would he say?

She took a deep breath, swallowed the words down, and turned sharply on her heel. Her boots slammed against the concrete with every step.

The moon cast a pale, sickly glow across the field. Olivia jogged under it, her voice rising hoarse and strained.

"Article One: Obeying orders is our duty! Article Two: Maintain strict discipline—"

Lights flicked on in the dorm building, window by window. Faces appeared behind the glass.

“Blast, Miss Hart’s getting punished again?”

“She’s got that killer face—could have any guy eating out of her hand. But nope, she goes for Captain No-Fun himself.”

“Come on, even if Captain Rivers was into someone, wouldn’t it be Emily Ross? She did save his life.”

“Agree! I’ve never seen him treat anyone special—except her.”

Their voices stabbed like needles.

Olivia ran faster. Her shouting grew louder.

"Article Three: Never fear sacrifice! Article Four: Show courage and resilience—"

Sweat stung her eyes, making them burn. She swiped at her face, not sure anymore if it was sweat or tears.

"Article Ten—"

Suddenly, the world tilted. Her knees buckled, and she hit the ground hard. Her forehead slammed into the dirt.

All she saw was red.

“Captain Rivers! Miss Hart passed out!” someone yelled in a panic.

“Leave her.”

His voice was like a slab of ice.

“Keep training.”

Gritting her teeth, Olivia forced herself to her feet. Blood trickled down her face, cold and sticky, tracing the curve of her brow.

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