12.1 The Abyss of WonderLand
Most men would have been offended that I’d taken the lead and not let their manhood win the day, but those men got knifed in the ribs or worse. I was glad that Timothy didn’t feel like what I’d done was competition. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I was impressed by his actions. He was no slacker. He’d been quick, efficient. and incredibly skilled. It looked like the ruffian was down for the night. He was breathing fine, but he looked done in, probably more from his drugs than from our actions. Timothy inspected me, found me to be fine, then walked over to gather up my shoes. I just stood there, shaking a bit from the aftereffects of the scene. Perhaps it was the adrenaline still pumping through my system, but at that moment, I felt slightly sick. Timothy returned to my side. “May I?’ he asked, giving our surroundings a quick scan before bending over to place each shoe on a foot. Wow. Cinderella, here I come, I thought to myself, as I held onto his shoulders for balance and because I was having a bit of a delayed reaction. ***** Timothy: My blood was up, my worry that she’d be hurt was now a dull ache pushed to the back of my mind — since the action had passed. But, yes, I wanted to scream at her, and I knew I couldn’t. I curbed my impulses and gave her a rather shaky smile. I didn’t lie when I praised her. I was relieved that she had some defensive strategies. She’d handled herself calmly and precisely. Yet, it tore my insides out that she’d felt the need to learn such things. And although, I was in part reassured, it made me resolve to immediately hire bodyguards for her. I couldn’t risk another such episode, one with possibly dire results. Yet, it was a surety that I couldn’t tell her so. She would refuse them. Besides, I knew she wanted to stand on her own feet. Women sought that in this time period. Not, that I found that wrong. I’d adapted to how things changed in regard to the role of women in each period of time. I remembered some of the women I’d come to know. They would never have stood up to a common criminal. They would have died before they did more than flutter their eyelashes and cry out, “Oh, woe is me.” Yes, I’d need to allow my Penelope to cherish that feeling of confidence she had. That I could not rob her of. I would just have to endure the pain that such helplessness brought to me. Because the truth was that I wanted to be her knight in shining armor as the expression went. I thoroughly understood that drive inside me, whether it was from my age or from my histories. It was a force I’d have to restrain. *****