Sunday Snippet: Living With Scars

Greetings!

Holy crap. We're halfway through the year already. How did that happen? LOL

Tonight's post is from a novella entitled Living with Scars. In all honesty, I quite love how it's coming together. The sages can be stingy with giving me the scenes, but when they finally let loose, the words fly. J

Here's the tagline:

Britta Dane, a woman who avoids entanglements, lets Yale Sullivan get a little too close. But when she finds a way to put some distance between them, she lands behind enemy lines. When she finally returns, a little broken and torn up with guilt, she has to find a way to get her brand of normal back.

And the sneaky peek…

Britta Dane rolled out of bed and forced herself to stay upright. It took a stumble, hop, and slide because the room spun, but she did it. God, she'd had too many blurry wakeup calls lately.

Her bubble of laughter ended on a hiccup. Geez, she needed to get a grip. CAP started in thirty minutes, and shit, she'd be late for the briefing if she didn't get a move on. Grabbing her shower kit, she leaned against her locker willing her head to stop pounding.

"Come on. Another day, another shift." She pushed away from the cool metal and bumped into a solid body.

"Not today, Aces. You're scratch."

Britta raised her eyes, probably still bloodshot, to meet the unreadable gaze of her CAG, Yale Sullivan. Shit. She backed up, using the locker for support.

"What do you mean, I'm scratch? I'm alright to fly." Her stomach picked that moment to rebel and it took everything she had not to heave. She swallowed down the bile and took a deep cleansing breath.

Yale snorted. "You're barely vertical. Which means not okay to fly." He turned on his heel and stepped out of quarters.

Britta pushed herself upright again. "Wait. Just wait." She gingerly made her way out into the corridor to see if he'd heeded her request.

Oh, he had. He stood right outside the damn hatch.

"What the hell, Yale? You know I'll be fine after a shower and some coffee." Britta fought against the urge to blink, the lights were brighter outside of crew quarters.

Yale shook his head. "How many more times will you be fine? What does this make? Four days this week you've missed the morning briefing?"

Britta jerked her head. "I didn't miss—" She looked around her, the causeways teemed with people.

Shift change…after morning briefing.

"Damn."

"Right. CAP goes wheels up in ten. You're not flying." He started down the corridor but turned back. "My office, thirty minutes. Do not be late."

She didn't bother with a comeback. He'd hear plenty from her in half an hour.

**

Standing outside the hatch of the CAG's office, Britta sucked in a deep breath. She'd showered, poured coffee down her throat and even forced herself to choke down a sticky bun—the last vestige of the breakfast served in the galley.

And gave herself a pat on the back because she ended up being five minutes early. Wouldn't Yale be impressed?

She snorted. Right. Nothing she'd done since she came back made him happy.

She drank too much. Pulled too many stupid stunts. In general, she'd become the bane of his existence.

Not exactly the place she wanted to be. But she couldn't seem to find her way out of the hole she'd dug herself into. She and Yale…they didn't have the solid footing they'd had before she left.

And that landed solely at her threshold, too.

She exhaled slowly and pounded on the hatch. Might as well get the lecture over with.

"Enter."

Pulling the heavy door open, she stepped into the office expecting to see Yale seated behind the desk. He tended to like things nice and professional when he planned to chastise her. Surprisingly, she found him seated on the small couch in the alcove off to the side of the room.

She dogged the hatch and stood at attention. "Reporting as ordered, sir." Eyes straight, not even she could fail to miss the quick back and forth of his head at her attempt to be overly respectful.

He gestured to the chair cattycorner to the couch. "Have a seat, lieutenant."

She grudgingly sat down.

"What's going on with you?" Yale softly voiced the question.

Needless to say, Britta has no plan to answer his question. At least not honestly. LOL But Yale's a persistent kind of guy. J

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye