One word prompt: possibility
Seaborne was prepared for anything. He took pride in weighing all his options, first as a private investigator and now as a bounty hunter. He and Roach were skilled at evaluating situations and choosing the best way out. They’d completed many jobs solely on their ability to think quickly.
Neither of them were prepared for this. Trapped in a warehouse, hiding behind crates, listening for the sound of their target’s armed henchmen.
They had been told that their target would be alone. He was a criminal wanted dead or alive in five countries. All they had to do was kill him and they’d get their reward. Instead, they were kneeling on the concrete floor, creeping around corners, holding their breath anytime footsteps sounded close by.
Seaborne was surprised when a sweating hand found its way into his. Roach’s eyes were wide, his lips pressed close together.
“We can’t fight ‘em,” he whispered.
Seaborne nodded. The two of them were so close that he could feel the heat rolling off Roach’s body. He only had his handgun with him. It would be useless against a crew of trained bodyguards armed with AK-47s.
The exit was just a few hundred feet ahead of them. Roach squeezed his hand.
“We gotta run.”
Seaborne balked at that. They were both wearing bulletproof vests, but those wouldn’t prevent them from injury if they were shot point-blank.
“We got no choice, man,” Roach said quietly.
They both froze as running footsteps passed nearby.
“Check the stairs!” someone barked.
Seaborne grit his teeth. “I still got that smoke grenade,” he murmured.
“Good.” Roach licked his lips. “We go on three.”
Seaborne retrieved the grenade from his backpack. He planned to throw it as far from the exit as he could.
Roach’s hand was sweaty. Seaborne almost wished that he’d let go, but there was something comforting in the knowledge that the two of them wouldn’t be separated.
“I just want you to know that I love you, man,” Roach murmured.
Seaborne looked up at him. “Wha–”
Everything happened at once. Seaborne flung the grenade. Roach nearly yanked
out his arm as they took off running for the exit. There was gunfire, a sharp
pain in his leg, but he didn’t stop moving. Roach’s fingers laced through his
kept him going, even when he felt another pain in his arm.
Seaborne felt something wet on his arm, but he ignored it. There would be time to examine himself later. Right now, he needed to survive and explore this new possibility of love.