I almost didn't make it to today's flash, but in the end I managed to scrape a little something together with the hopscotch prom. I'm continuing where I left off with Bethany and General Hodgins. If you haven't read last week's flash you can do so HERE. If you haven't read any of the story, you can catch up by clicking HERE and scrolling down to the bottom to the links titled 'Light of Time'.
I hope you enjoy this piece and as always, go read the other flasher's, they have some truly great stories!
Light of time 8
Slowly,
Bethany turned around to face Hodgins. Her body felt rigid, as if it had lost
all sense of flexibility and she had become a slab of stone. Cold sweat gathered at the back of her neck
and the sensation disappeared, becoming replaced by a nervous quake that made
her knees tremble. She swallowed hard, the ridiculous thought that women of her
position shouldn’t sweat so much crossing her mind.
“The day
before the incident, you say?” she
finally managed to say.
“Yes, it
was one of the few things I managed to recover from it.”
“I thought
you had been lost in the wilderness for some time.”
“I was.”
She watched
the tall man as he crossed his arms over his chest, his posture betraying his defensiveness.
“I’m not
saying you weren’t, General.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “How did
you get it back?”
“It was
found in the wreckage and I claimed it back when they found me. What does it
matter?” He took large strides to a small cabinet in the corner and propped it
open. Pulling out two glasses and a bottle, he turned to face her one more
time.
“Would you
care for a drink?”
“No thank
you.”
“Suit
yourself.”
He poured
himself some of the yellow liquid and gulped it down hastily.
Taking a calming
breath, Bethany reentered the room. She needed time to think, to gather her
thoughts and decide how she was going to handle this situation. She was still
kicking herself for having lost control. She’d always had a nasty temper, but
after years of hard training and constant nagging she’d learned to keep it
under control. Until now. Until General Hodgings had grabbed her and demanded
an answer like it was his right. Her eyes narrowed as she fought back the urge
to scream at him again. She owed him nothing. He was nothing but trouble and
she should have heeded her nana’s advice, but at the same time, she sensed that
if they worked together, they could discover something- something important, especially
now that there seemed to be a connection between the inkblot paintings.
She felt
Hodgins’ gaze pinned on her as she moved across the room and resumed her seat.
Neatly folding her hands over her lap, she stared at the old scar on her
knuckle. She’d gotten it as a child, playing hopscotch she’d tripped and as bad
luck would have it scraped her hand badly.
“I need time to think, “ she blurted
out. She lifted her head and met Hodgins’ icy blue stare. A shiver of awareness
ran through her and she resisted the urge to tighten the robe around her. “I cannot think at your home, General. I feel like a prisoner, like a trapped mouse
constantly watched by a hungry cat.”
Bethany looked away, embarrassed by the
silly simile she’d come up with and slightly intimidated by Hodgins’ fixed stare.
She wrung her hands, gripping them tightly against her lap. The world seemed to
have gone silent. She could hear nothing except her own heavy breathing and the
thump, thump, thump of her anxious heart. Never be afraid of anyone, Beth. We’re
all different people in this planet of ours but in essence we are all the same.
We come from the same place and we end up in the same place. Her grandfather’s
words echoed in her mind. With newfound resolve she forced her gaze back on
Hodgins. In the few seconds she’d taken to gather her thoughts he hadn’t moved.
He still looked at her, seemingly dissecting her with his cold eyes. His
posture was erect, like a soldier’s, yet it also had certain elegance to it, a
poise that would have attracted all manner of women had he been in a social
context. The pale long locks, the high cheekbones, the penetrating gaze. Even
his half empty cup of liquor in one hand and his tightly clenched fist in the
other would not have dissuaded the women searching for a husband. Bethany
met his stare head on. Fortunately, she had no interest in finding a husband at
the moment. Other more important matters deserved her immediate attention.
“My
grandfather never told you about the painting because he didn’t have the time.
He received it the day before his death. We didn’t even have time to hang it.”
Hodgins’
eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She would have missed it had she not been
staring at his face so carefully.
“Are you
insinuating the same person gave it to us?” Goosebumps spread over her
flesh, she was insinuating more than that, but she nodded to his question.
“Who gave
it to your grandfather?”
Bethany
shrugged. Suddenly restless she got to her feet and strolled to the window
through which Hodgins’ had been observing the world outside. Wrapping her arms
around her waist, she shivered slightly. The brilliant moon illuminated the
wild fields around Hodgins’ land. In the distance, trees loomed, perhaps
indicating the beginning of a forest. She felt Hodgins’ presence stirring
behind her, but did not acknowledge him. It was his turn to make a move. His
turn to tell her something more, to say something
that would keep her in the house for a
few more minutes.
“That line
of trees is an illusion. It does not signal the beginning of a lush forest.
Behind it, everything is dead. There are only rocks and sand. That’s where I
first met your grandfather.”
Bethany
spun around and she found herself staring at the brass buttons on the General’s
vest. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, her breath catching and her heart skipping
erratically at the proximity of the tall man.
To be continued...
Ooh, intense. Bethany really is a girl after my own heart although i have to admit I haven't managed to get my temper under control yet. This story is getting more and more intriguing.
ReplyDeleteWow - this is such a good story. Loving it.
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