Drawing Blood by C.D. Breadner Page B

sure he was going to die.”
    Abigail could do one of two things. She could keep the cold distance from him she’d been fighting to maintain. Or she could give in to her girl side and act on that sympathy she felt rising to surface again.
    She put a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing. You assessed the situation before reacting. That’s what a good leader does.”
    He exhaled and looked at her hand. Then he looked back at her.
    “Thank you, Abigail. I am sorry if we startled you tonight.”
    This was very wrong. She was actually feeling comfortable.
    He took her hand off his shoulder but held it, thumb running over the back. “Thank you for helping Friedrich.” Then he was gone. Abigail was left to clean the blood from the floor and table by herself in the dark.
     

Chapter Fourteen
    David
     
    Jesus, it had been a long time since he’d been this blitzed. His head was spinning, every step that kept him from falling a small victory over gravity. He likely stunk too, but all he could smell was the perfume that stuck to him, embedded in his uniform even. Lily, that had been her name. What a lovely English flower.
    He stopped to let a car pass with a blowing of the horn, then continued crossing the street. He had no idea where the hell he was, but there had to be a cab for hire somewhere.
    Two girls walked past him, giggling as they passed on opposite sides of him. He stopped to watch them walk away, and they looked back to catch him looking. He didn’t care. He gave his best “I swear I’m not drunk” smile and they turned away, laughing loudly.
    David continued on his way. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to find a familiar landmark. He’d been in this town for almost three whole years. How could he have gotten so lost?
    Lily had been talking while they walked. He’d gotten lost in that upper-crust English accent. She’d been so gorgeous, so confident. The kind of person that looked like she didn’t even use the loo, never mind climb in to bed with the likes of him. But she did.
    Music. He heard music. Where the hell …
    He burst out laughing, finally realizing where he was. He felt so stupid … there it was. The pub where he’d met Lily. Hopefully some of his comrades were still there …
    As he approached the door opened and a handful of uniformed men spilled out on to the sidewalk, voiced loud. They were being kicked out and thought it was hilarious. He recognized the uniforms of Canadians, Americans and Brits. All getting along like they’d grown up down the street from each other.
    He made his way towards them, seeing Craig Jasper, Clyde Walton, Lou Reinhold, even that big fucker Duncan Higgins. They all greeted him in the over-the-top drunk and jovial way, shouting “Hey!” in unison.
    “You lucky bastard,” Walton drawled, throwing an arm over David’s shoulder. “How was that fresh little Lily?”
    “Fragrant, delicate, and fulfilled, now.”
    There was boisterous laughter, slaps on the back, then they carried on their revelries en masse up the stone sidewalks. David didn’t know the names of the non-Canadians, but it didn’t matter. They all seemed like good chaps. Even the Americans … and they had more money for alcohol.
    “You should have stayed with her. Where the hell are we going to sleep tonight?” Walton said, carrying on a thought from about five minutes before.
    “She had a roommate … her sister. She was embarrassed. Asked me to leave.”
    “Shit. Bring me next time. I like sisters.”
    “This here, boys,” Higgins said loudly pointed backwards to David. “This is the guy that put me on my ass.”
    “That fucking skinny thing?” The American had a weird accent, maybe Boston. David couldn’t be sure, he hadn’t heard it very often. “How the hell did he do that?”
    “When I’m drunk I’m fearless,” David offered, shrugging.
    The guy turned on him so quickly David barely had time to move out of the way. He ducked the punch, and the motion carried the