just southern comfort


No one spent more time out there looking for that little girl then him. She wasn’t his daughter but he looked anyway. He wasn’t just angry at himself for not finding her sooner, but part of him was angry at everyone for the same reason. His bluish gray hues now on her. “Ya shoulda’ been watchin’ her!” Dixon knew she did her best like he did but he was angry. That anger made him the asshole that most people in this damn group thought he was.

The harshness to his tone causes her to flinch, and she takes a cautious step back. There was that momentary flash of panic, that he may strike her, but deep down she knows the man is not like that. He’s different than her husband used to be. Swallowing hard, her gaze is cast toward the ground, and all she can offer is a single nod. I know…