Wednesday means words and this week, y’all are getting a bit more than the usual 250 words allowed by Thursday Threads. This scene sets up some pivotal moments that are coming up and I needed more than the word count limit. That’s what flash fiction is all about–writing a story/complete scene using the exact prompt and doing it in a specific number of words or less. Since I was the previous week’s winner, the prompt is a phrase from my entry. That’s the way it always works. Sometimes, like last week, I could work the phrase from my winning entry into a new scene that occurs close in time. This week, yeah…not so much. But that’s okay because I love it when a story circles around and it just did. Yippee! I danced in my chair for a few minutes because the timeline and scenes are slotting in nicely. The prompt from last week’s Thursday Threads is: *She could not face this battle alone.* FYI, this scene occurs much earlier than the previous two.

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Ronan stood at the window in his office watching the late-night traffic on Dorchester. His contact in the DA’s office hadn’t minced words. Maura was squarely in Crensaw’s crosshairs.

He didn’t react to the soft tap on his open office door. His nose had already announced his brother’s presence, the scents of a peat fire and hops preceding him. Overlaying their familial scent was a hint of the sea breeze, salty and full of sunshine as it blew inland. Ronan, feeling out of sorts, wondered what was making Mick so cheerful.

“You’re looking glum, Rone. What’s got’cha so bollocked?”

“And yer feelin’ right cheerful for a man who’s been collared twice now by the coppers.”

Mick laughed, deep and hearty, as he slapped Ronan’s shoulder. “Shite, man, do ya think they can keep me under lock and key when I’m as innocent as a lamb?”

Ronan very slowly turned his head and stared. Mick, used to his older brother’s ways returned the searing look with a cheeky grin. “We both know I didn’t do the cop or the girl.”

He paused and inhaled deeply. Mick’s expression immediately turned serious. “You’ve been with the pretty DA again.”

“I went to her office because they were stallin’ out your hearing.”
Mick grinned, his mood mercurial. “Ah, no wonder I was so precipitously escorted to the courthouse.”

“No, that was all Declan’s doing.”

“You need to stay away from her, Rone. She’s trouble.”

Mick was right but Ronan refused to admit it. For all intents and purposes, Maura Brannigan was the enemy. She worked for a wanker on the take. She should be tainted by the man’s avarice. But she’s not. He agreed with his inner wolf’s assessment. Mine, the wolf insisted. No. Ronan denied the insinuation. Maura was all about law and order. Brian’s crew wasn’t anything like the sleaseballs JD Moore ran, but the Wolves weren’t anywhere close to being the innocent lambs Mick claimed.

He couldn’t bring her into his world. And he couldn’t step out of it to exist in hers. Additionally, Crenshaw was growing desperate and desperate men took stupid chances. That’s when Ronan realized Maura was in deep trouble and she could not face this battle alone. He’d put her in danger. Now it was up to him to protect her. He took out his cell phone and placed a call.
****

So there it is. I’m happy with it and went on to rip out a few more scenes once it was done last week. Now it’s a week later and I’m still making progress. Again, YIPPEE! Writers, take the “battle” to your own WIP. Readers, what are you battling today?