Weapons for the Fallen by J. T. Booher

Author:J. T. Booher [Booher, J. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-04-17T06:00:00+00:00

15

…

PERMANENT

I WATCHED HIM as he came through the trees, walking confidently and purposefully. It was T, alright. His eyes were black, and his expression was fixed, analyzing me.

“You got in,” he said expressionlessly. “Why are you crying?”

I glared at him with bloodshot eyes. After disappearing without a single word for six days, over a silly misunderstanding which, in reality, may have only been a case of me speaking the truth and him not wanting to hear it, he had the nerve to show up in the woods when I was trying to wallow in self-pity under the guise of hunting and demand questions of me?! Bastard.

“What do you want?” I asked, cocking my rifle. His eyes widened and shot down to the gun in my hands and then back to my face, but he continued his stride toward me.

“I thought I made that clear, but if you want me to say it again, then I will,” he replied clearly and firmly, narrowing his eyes.

“Refresh my memory,” I said, narrowing my eyes in return.

“I want you,” he answered, stopping so close to me that I had to lift my face to look at him. His face was still expressionless, staring down into my eyes.

“Then where have you been?” I demanded. He gripped my rifle with both hands.

“Let go,” he said calmly, not breaking my stare.

“Answer the question,” I snapped through my teeth.

“I was reprimanded for taking the truck to drive you to the exam,” he answered with infuriating calm. He didn’t need to say it callously. He knew the information would do enough. I released my grip on the gun, and he immediately began expertly unloading it. He held it out to me when he was done, smoothly sliding the unspent shells into his pocket. I glared down as he did so. Ammunition was limited and priceless. Especially since I didn’t know how to get more now that Daddy was gone. My father had traded for the ammunition that he had just pocketed. I could take it back if I wanted to, and he couldn’t stop me. I could leave him standing there in the woods, frozen in place like a statue with his pants down if I wanted to. I suppressed the smile that reached for my face at the thought of that. “I’ll give them back,” he said expressionlessly.

“How much trouble are you in?” I asked, dismissing the subject of the ammo.

“A lot,” he exhaled. “But it was a calculated risk, and the gain was worth it,” he deliberated after a slight pause, sliding his arms around me and pulling me closer, purposefully pushing his face into my wild mane of hair and inhaling deeply. “I’m not angry with you,” he said into my hair after another pause. “I wanted to return on the evening that I brought you back from the exam, but I was apprehended.” He paused again. “You were right,” he said slowly and evenly. “My mind has become weak.” I pulled back and examined his face with surprise at his admission.

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