"I can do that without ripping all your hair out. The birds could make a nest with what you've thrown into the fire."
Angela's first thought was no, and she was shocked to hear her own eager voice. "Deal. You battle the tangles, I'll roll."
His surprised, happy look kept her from taking it back, and she surrendered the brush reluctantly when he held out a hand for it.
Marc moved behind her and knelt down, then began to gently work the tangles out. He started with the damp ends, aware of how shallow her breathing had become, how tense her posture was.
It was an uncertain moment for Angela, and she listened with a thumping heart, hearing leaves rustling in the soft breeze, the gravel crunching under Dog's paws as he returned, panting. And all the while, her heart waited for the footsteps and gunfire, fear insisting Kenny could be here by now.
Dog sniffed their feet, their beds, and then curled up near the fire, eyes on the darkness, and Angela told herself to relax. The wolf would hear anyone sneaking around, even a Marine. Besides, she wasn't really doing anything wrong. Marc was just brushing her hair.
By the time he had gotten a third of the way up, close to her small waist, Angela had adjusted and Marc eased down, legs on either side of her. She tensed again as his big body surrounded hers, but when he only continued to work on her damp curls, she went back to what she was doing.
Marc wondered if she would note today's escape in her journal. She'd had him telling stories every night for the first few weeks, but hadn't asked for one lately and he suddenly wondered why. Had his tale of betrayal and self-preservation during Katrina bothered her that much?
"Not so much your part, you followed orders. It just makes me sad all those people had to be hurt."
Marc agreed. "I almost left the Marines over it. I mean, we could hear them screaming for help. How's a guy supposed to live with that?"
Angela shook her head, wanting to comfort him, but afraid to say the wrong thing and break the peacefulness of their camp, knowing "You signed with the wrong guys." wouldn't help. She did the best she could, sure it wasn't enough. "They wouldn't let you; you were knocked out when you fought. Nothing you could do."
Marc sighed glumly, wishing he had… He sighed. If he had shot his way out, he'd be dead now too.