Chapter 22: Those Red Eyes

**Brooke

Sergeant Malloy's car skidded over some rocks piled up on the side of the road before coming to a stop. A few leaves broke loose from the branches and slid across the silver hat, only to be caught in a gust of wind that followed them to my boots.

I took them off and zipped up my jacket to protect myself from the night's cold as I approached the car without trying to hide my bad mood.

“Hey, little girl!” he greeted me, putting his arm out the window.

I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the beam of the headlights and lowered it only when Malloy turned off the engine, allowing the evening twilight to reign supreme once again.

“I brought dinner.” he shook two plastic bags. He kicked the door shut and walked up the slope that led from the small parking lot to the base's outer courtyard. “I hope James has already lit the fire.”

“He's taking care of it now.” I reached out to him: “Give me the bags, I'll help you.”

“I brought sausages and steaks. Oh! I forgot the beer in the car. Can you take care of it?”

I placed the bags on the ground and pointed to where Mr. Farrow was lighting the fire. “Stay close to the fire. It's very cold at night.”

“You can say that girl.” he breathed, watching his breath condense into a white cloud. “I'm sorry I forced you to sleep outdoors. When I didn't see you arrive, I was convinced that you had returned to the city.”

“I will always forgive you everything.” I blinked. “Come on, go now, or you'll get sick. His uniform jacket doesn't look very warm.”

Paying attention to where I placed my feet, I followed the short descent, trying to avoid the most slippery and moss-covered rocks.

“Hey, little girl?” I heard him call me.

I approached the car and turned around.

“Are you well? You seem strange… attentive.”

“It wasn't an easy two days.”

“You must be tired, I imagine.”

I looked down, caught between embarrassment and nervousness. “It's not that. The fact is that Mr. Farrow did not behave appropriately.”

“James is a very authoritarian man, and I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that his character is mainly despotic.”

The need to trust myself made me say on impulse: “He tried to kiss me.”

“And I'm guessing, judging by his tone, that he didn't use any force to do it.”

I bit my nail, feeling the tears insistently trying to come out. It was not so much the fact that he had threatened to kiss me that made my lips tremble with humiliation. But rather the mortifying awareness that, in his eyes, I was worth little or nothing to allow himself such trust.

There was no hint of sweetness when he held me tightly to keep me from escaping, nor when he kissed and sniffed my neck without asking permission. This was undoubtedly not part of dating techniques, but rather part of a man who wanted an easy woman.

“He assumed I would love him back.” I blurted out. “He didn't even give me a chance to escape.”

“Brooke.” he suddenly looked at me intently, narrowing his gaze. “He may have done something to you that…”

“No, no. Of course.” I hurried to reassure him. “He just threatened to kiss me…” I rolled my eyes and added reluctantly: “Even though in the end he didn't even do it anymore.”

“Serious?” there was a lot of astonishment in his tone, as if he thought this was impossible. Absently, I wondered how close the two were.

“I refused. I assume he felt offended.”

“But who? James?” he started laughing. “I don't think so, child. I prefer to think that he gave her an exemplary demonstration of respect.”

“You'll see that now he becomes a Saint too.” I warmed up.

“Come on, Brooke, now don't be such a child. James is a thirty-year-old man and you are a very beautiful girl. I don't see all this drama if he wants a kiss.”

“This being doesn't want to! He demands it and… God, he's so annoying!” I ran my hand through my hair, my nerves on edge. “Farrow is my boss, Malloy, My boss! And you know how much my family needs the money I earn from this job. I can't run the risk of losing him just to please the whims of a man who doesn't respect me. If he did, he would have asked my permission instead of demanding that I give him something that, in his confused mind, is absurdly and illogically owed to him.”

“If I asked for your permission, I would only get a slap.” In the dim light, James took a step forward, revealing his presence. His face twitched into an almost bored pose.

I looked at him. “How dare he listen? It was a private discussion.”

“I allow myself this and much more.” even the timbre of his voice seemed bored. “I allow myself everything that concerns you and I allow myself to point out that, among the many things said, there is one that particularly shocks me.”

“He would be?” I crossed my arms, on a warpath, and realized with horror that his eyes remained on my breasts for a second longer.

“The fact that you think I want to kiss you is a whim. Honey, if it were, you'd already be inside the base, naked, begging me to let you catch your breath.”

“As…?” I opened my eyes wide, indignant, letting them dart between Malloy and Farrow. “How do you dare?” then I fixed my eyes on Malloy. “Did you hear him?”

“Yes.” He smiled good-natured. “He just praised you.”

“Do you defend him?” I had hallucinations.

“Maybe the boy's methods are a little rough…” he began.

“It's not like I didn't try to be sweet, huh,” James suggested.

“How much time? Twelve hours? He asked, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical stance.”

“Maybe even thirteen.”