She glared at the empty glasses in front of her. Three? You know better!
You never know when you won’t return.He called dispatch again, adding that there was an active shooter on the property. He recognized Denise’s voice but didn’t bother to flirt. Her efficiency calmed him.
You okay, Ben? she asked after relaying his information.Just need a clean pair of pants.Stay low. They ended the call.
He rolled closer to the watering trough and started to crawl around to the other side to put some metal between him and the shooter and get out of the light from the fire. His breath came in short pants, and his knees ached from the cold of the ground. Far off, the dirt bike engine started up again. He hadn’t noticed it’d stopped before the shot.Did someone that far away take a shot at me?
He didn’t feel like sticking his head up to find out. He cursed, glad his wife wasn’t in earshot, as he realized his trusty flashlight had been a beacon to guide the shot. He was crawling into the pitch blackness on the other side of the trough when his hand touched something warm and solid.
He jerked back his hand and strained to see in the black. The dark was too dense.It’s okay, Mercy. I understand. It’s a two-way street. I could have reached out to you.
But you never would. Not since our father ordered everyone not to associate with me.It was stupid. They were adults abiding by their father’s ancient demands.
Some habits were hard to break.Especially if you believed Dad was absolutely right.