There was a pretty (small) diamond ring on a chain around her slender neck, a claim of ownership she obviously still felt, or she wouldn't be wearing it. She was thinner than he thought she should be - probably only 120 pounds - and her nose was crooked, just barely noticeable, along with the slight shadow of what was probably a nasty scar showing from under the edge of her wrinkled shirt.
She looked scared, sick even, and instead of the guilt or anger he'd expected her to use, he sensed only sadness and felt that old concern rise up - stronger. He wisely kept his mouth shut, though, sure that anything he said would be met with scorn or sarcasm. This was her show until he agreed and he hadn't done that yet.
Angela looked over at him, their eyes sparking, hers flinching away. There was joy and pain in that brief glance, and once again Marc admitted to himself that there was little she could ask for that he wouldn't give.
Angela took in a deep breath and then picked another question to stall. "So, are you really a Marine or do you just like being a moving target?"
Marc grinned, a bit surprised she knew he was military and what branch. Most civilians didn't, and he wondered what had given him away. His tag wasn't visible.
"Been doing it a long time. Saw no reason to change," he stated carefully, slowing down his hands on the gun. This was going to take a while.
"What's your rank?"
"I was a Sergeant."
She looked at him curiously, "Why only an E5?"
He was surprised again by her knowledge, and he shrugged, heart starting to worry. Was her man military too? "I disobeyed a direct order too many times."
"When did you enlist?" She hated herself for being unable to stop the old Angela from asking, but couldn't deny the need to know.
Marc snorted, and noticed she jumped, but said nothing. She'd just been attacked. She had every reason to be a little jumpy.
"I didn't," his voice was heavy with sarcasm. "It was either put in my time, or go to prison for statutory rape. I've been a jarhead for fifteen years."
Her eyes were guarded. Fifteen years. Right after they were caught in her bedroom.
"The first year was bad, but I learned not to draw fire, and I made a life. I do... did things that most people can't even imagine."
"Sounds like you've enjoyed it."