A Battle Raging Read Free Page B

about, to break it apart and try to put it back together again. And he knew for that reason alone, he would keep the info to himself. He didn't like self-reflection very much. He didn't like going to the core of his emotional and mental pain; it only exacerbated it.
    He laid his head on the pillow again knowing that sleep wouldn't come easily. His mind resisted going into a dream state. His dreams were memories, sometimes surreal but always with the hard edge of reality. He had been fighting his reality for over four years.
    Maybe Dr. Madison was right. Maybe he needed to refocus his anger, delve into his innate abilities to offset his feelings of inadequacy. He had taken art classes before, and in his teens had even thought of pursuing a career as a graphic artist. But that was a long time ago, a lifetime ago. Boy and man were forever rived apart.
    It took nearly forty minutes before his mind stopped racing, before his lids became heavy enough to shut out the world around him. And in the ensuing darkness of his mind, a blaze of light moved in and brought with it the renewed pain of a bullet ripping through him.

CHAPTER 3
     
    Maya strolled through the fish market trying to decide whether she wanted ahi or tilapia for dinner. The briny smell of Pike's Place was always exhilarating as was the throng of people milling around. Especially fun was the inevitable "flying fish" a mainstay at the famous market. Every day, smiling fishmongers called out the customers' orders then tossed the fish to one another, sometimes including the customers in their antics. It was routine for a foam rubber fish to be tossed at and hopefully caught by a jovial shopper.
    Maya often came on Fridays after her morning stint at the university where she taught art appreciation to usually lackluster twenty-something's who considered the class an easy A. But this morning had been a very good class, and she could almost forget last Saturday's train wreck. Tomorrow was the second meeting of her independent art class, the one she bankrolled herself because she had naively thought it was a great idea to inspire budding artists and help them discover their inner muses. Well, if last week was any indication, she and twelve others would be unwilling captives to whatever tantrum Mr. Yarborough decided to throw. Not good.
    She shook off her apprehension, decided on the ahi, gave her order to one of the fishmongers.
    "Ahi, ahi for the pretty lady," the young blond worker called out to an older bald man. The refrain as well as a large cut of ahi made its rounds between four mongers, all of them cheerfully smiling as one after another tossed and caught the fish. And soon the foam fish was heaved her way as she stood below a sign warning about "low flying fish." She lifted her left hand, barely caught it but that was enough to garner her a healthy round of applause.
    When she finally left with her fish, she couldn't help smiling and she found her good mood restored…for the moment.
    "Good catch in there," someone said to her just outside the fish market. She looked up at a very tall man with smooth, dark skin and ebony eyes that twinkled. There were dimples on either side of a wide smile.
    "Uh, I don't know about that. It was in danger of going splat at my feet."
    "Well, no one could tell. If they were like me, all they could see was a very beautiful woman showing some major deft moves."
    He was running a line on her and it was working. She felt her smile widen and she tried to check the young schoolgirl inside who was just too susceptible to compliments, especially from an athletic looking brother who knew his game. And who looked like he was not unfamiliar with the corporate office judging by his suit.
    "Well, thank you again but I have to go," she said.
    He gave her an exaggerated look of pain, as though she had hurt his feelings.
    "And here I was hoping you might show me your moves."
    "Well, brother I have no moves to spare right now, except those that are going