The Trifecta Challenge is to write anything, in whichever form, that is between 33 and 333 words based upon a word and definition given. This week’s word is “score.” My personal challenge is to weave the entries into an actual story. Word count verified by Written? Kitten!
As the flight wore on, Sahara checked her phone every few minutes. She wasn’t sure why; she hadn’t had more than a handful of texts since she had been cut off from her friends in California. Now that she was moving again, she fully expected that number to return to zero for at least another few months.
There were a lot of things Sahara had put up with in their attempt to keep her alive. After she’d witnessed a triple murder in the office building where she’d worked, everything had gone to pieces. She thought she’d done the right thing by going to the police but now she wasn’t so sure.
As it turned out, the murders had been a hit by one of the largest organized crime families on the West Coast. Dean had been the junior of the three agents on the case and every one of them knew it wouldn’t be long before someone showed up to take Sahara out of the picture and even the score. It didn’t matter that the man she’d testified against was serving life in prison without parole for the murders, he had friends everywhere that would be happy to help him extend his reach.
I don’t know why they even moved me to Chicago in the first place, she thought as the plane dipped down into the clouds. If I wasn’t safe in Los Angeles, I can’t imagine I was any safer in one of the biggest cities in the country. She shot another look of annoyance at Dean, who was now eating the peanuts she had inadvertently thrown at him. He tried again to give her an encouraging smile and this time she narrowed her eyes at him instead of looking out the window.
“Look,” he said with a sigh, “I know you’re pissed at me. But it’s not going to do either of us any good for you to keep ignoring me.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“I will, if you’ll let me.”