A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words is a monthly feature. The photo inspiration changes.
Brilliant sunlight blinded him as he exited the cave that had been his prison for the past five days. Dahlia took his arm, keeping him from stumbling over his own two feet. Her grip was firm but not emasculating. Seriously. Who wants to be rescued by a woman? “So, I just wanted to say thanks for what you did back there. It got kinda crazy for a minute, but you did a great job.”
Dahlia stopped in her tracks.
He glanced at her. She was pissed.
“You’re welcome. And, I think that, once I freed you, you did an okay job back there, too. For a guy who had gotten himself captured.” Her left eyebrow arched up in challenge and a decided smirk tipped the corner of her lips upward.
Shit. I’m in trouble. How should I deal with this? He didn’t want her pissed at him. “Listen, I didn’t mean anything–I mean, I didn’t mean that you did well for a girl or anything–I just have trouble accepting help in the first place.”
Her expression softened slightly. “I get a little defensive.” She fidgeted with the holster for her knife, which wrapped around her thigh. “It’s not often that I have the opportunity to show off my skills because they, um, don’t let me. They send me out for coffee and other bullshit errands. As matter of fact…the agency didn’t officially send me. I snagged the communication from Tanner after the big bosses had said that you can figure it out on your own.”
“So, you weren’t sent?” His throat clogged with anger.
“No. They weren’t going to send anyone.”
He stood a little straighter and turned away from Dahlia. “I need a minute.”
He heard her soft footfalls as she rounded the mouth of the cave.
He climbed the boulder in front of the cave’s gaping maw. With his arms crossed in front of him, he stared into the woods. Fuck the agency. They don’t deserve my loyalty. Dahlia does, though.
It’s a short one this week! Go see what Bronwyn wrote!