"Look, if you don't want to?—"
"I was assaulted," she said.
Brutus dropped the tire gauge to the gravel.
"I was sixteen, I'd gone to Bayamon to see my sister, and... there's a lot of seedy places in some parts of that town. It's a rough town, okay?"
"I've heard about Bayamon."
Castellanos shivered at the name, and plunged ahead. "Anyway, I wanted a way off the island that didn't depend on my looks. I know how I look, Brutus. I had the offers, but I didn't want the strings that came with those offers. The Army said they didn't give a damn about my looks, they wanted me to work."
"And you chose Infantry...?"
"Because I'm never going to let that happen to me again," Castellanos said simply. "I was going to be a fighter. I'm not going to end up like my sister."
"Where is she?"
Castellanos snorted darkly. "Right back in Guayama, with three kids by three different fathers. Two of them said they were just going to the mainland to find work and that they'd be back for Carmen and the kids... yeah right. I send some money back every couple of months, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough."
"I'm... sorry," Brutus said, shaken up.
He tried to pick up the tire gauge, and dropped it again before he could maintain a grip long enough to tuck it in his pocket. But instead of continuing he sagged to the gravel, sitting down with his back against the right rear wheel.
"Fuck. I just..."
"Don't say you're sorry, Brutus," Castellanos said almost harshly. "Don't you fucking dare take pity on me. I made it out of the island, and I'm glad. I've got my degree, I've got a good start on a good career as long as I can avoid asshole colonels and generals trying to shuffle me off to some PR job because of my looks. I'm here because of my skills, not my looks."
Brutus nodded, rubbing his cheek.
"I guess... look, I've shared locker rooms with guys who've come from rough upbringings before, know what I mean? In college, I shared a dorm room with a guy who grew up in Liberty City, Miami. Heard of it?"
"I've seen the documentaries," Castellanos said. "That part of Miami, you either grow up to be a rapper, a football player... or you may not grow up at all."
"Pretty much. And the stories he told me..." Brutus took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Sorry. Fucking therapy, gets me into my feels too often."
"That's not a bad thing, once you learn how to handle those feels. Lots of men, including the ones I work with, don't," Castellanos said. "You just need practice."
Brutus nodded, shaken up. He hadn't told anyone just how much the past month of weekly sessions with a psychiatrist had affected him. "I just... what do you know of my story?"
Castellanos sat down next to him, leaning against the other tire.
"Brutus Townsend, thirty years old, only son of Jake 'Juggernaut' Townsend and Bethany Parker-Townsend. Your dad played defensive end for Los Angeles throughout the nineties, and while he was a dependable player, didn't exactly light up the stat columns the way you have. Your mother was an Olympian... heptathlon, I think."
"You know my bio well," Brutus said, impressed. "And yeah, my dad's Juggernaut Townsend."
"When I heard you were getting assigned to me, I read your Wikipedia," Castellanos said simply. "Anyway, with your parents being athletic superstars, you and your sisters were bound to be competitive athletes, right?"
"Billie's still competing, she does jiu-jitsu," Brutus said with a little smile. "She'll be going for her black belt soon probably. She got into it after playing football herself all the way through high school and then after college, played pro for a few years. Just make sure you never, ever call it the 'Lingerie League' around her. I've seen her smack the crap out of a guy for that."
"Sounds like he deserved it."
"Yeah well... pro women's football doesn't pay the bills, so she put the shoulderpads aside and moved on. But football's been my birthright even before I knew it," Brutus admitted. "I could read an offense and knew how to predict a quarterback's check down progression before I could ride a bicycle."
"I ride a bike," Castellanos said suddenly.
Brutus looked at her in surprise. "Growing up, money was tight, so I learned to pinch pennies until Abe screamed. Anyway, I knew how much of an average soldier's paycheck gets eaten up by car payments, insurance, all that shit. So when I got to my first unit, I bought an electric assist bicycle."
"An electric bike?" Brutus asked, humming. "That's... actually kinda cool."
