Page 11 of My Tiny Giant

I folded my arms over my chest.

“Am I?” I hated how high-pitched my voice sounded with that question. “I’ve been fighting side by side with you, all day today. I haven’t done any worse than you have out there, have I? I am a soldier, Lieutenant, just as you are. We even have the same rank, for pity's sake.” My blood heated, warming my face. I took a step closer and had to tilt my head all the way back to catch Agan’s eyes so high above me. I refused to be intimidated by his height or by anything else about him. “The only difference I see between you and me is my lack of one single appendage.” I shot a pointed look down to his crotch, then added quickly, “Well, two if you count your tail. That and your over-inflated ego, of course.”

“It’s not right.” He stood there, shaking his head. “Women are to be cherished and protected.”

“Are we, now?” I lifted an eyebrow, not even trying to mask the sarcasm in my voice.” Is that why you keep your women in those entertainment units ? Is that how you’re protecting them?”

“Yes.” He stared at me with an earnest expression. “A Ravil woman would never have to set foot into a war zone. If she is in danger, every male of Ravie would risk his life to get her to a safe place.”

“The ‘safe place,’” I made air quotes with my fingers around those two words, “where she would then have to prostitute herself for male soldiers’ entertainment.”

“Prostitute?” He looked genuinely puzzled.

“Don’t tell me there’s no sex happening in those units.”

“Of course there is. People have needs.”

“And I bet that’s where you go to take care of your needs , too, don’t you?”

“Why not?” He arched an eyebrow.

Was he really that clueless? Did he really see no wrong with that arrangement, or was he just pretending to be blind to infuriate me? If so, it worked. Anger bubbled hot inside me.

“So, that’s what you think a woman’s role is in life?” I moved on to him. “To pleasure and entertain you? According to you, I shouldn’t be here, doing my job, even if I do it just as well as you do yours. A woman can’t be a soldier simply because she is a woman? Can’t you see it makes no sense?”

He blinked at me for a moment or two, then threw his hands in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation.

“Fuuuck!” he bellowed, pointing at all of me with both hands. “How did you even become a soldier? Why? Look at you, the tiny, blonde thing that you are. Pixie is right. You’re literally half my size! How are you going to face my enemy?”

“I have faced the enemy already, remember?” I yelled back, losing the last shreds of my patience. The only reason I didn’t punch him right then and there was because I didn’t think I could reach his face. A punch anywhere else wouldn’t be as satisfying at that point. “In a suit, I’m the same as everyone else out there. I’m not worse than you. Hell, I’m better than you. I’ve proven that!”

What he’d said wasn’t new to me. Only no one before Agan had said it openly to my face like that. It was as if he didn’t even realize how offensive he sounded, which made it even worse. He wasn’t simply trying to insult me, he genuinely believed I wasn’t right for my job.

“The suit is a piece of technology. Technology fails.” He paced the clearing, looking distressed. The fluffy end of his tail agitatedly whipped around his boots. “What are you going to do if it fails while you’re on your own? Who and what would protect you then?”

“How about my skills? My training? My brain?” I held my hand up, energetically folding a finger with each item I listed. “There is more to me than the size of my muscles or what’s between my legs, dammit!”

“The fact remains—you’re a woman.” He stomped his foot.

“Oh, God help me!” I threw my head back, using all my self-control to stop myself from lunging at him to shake some sense into his thick skull.

“And a woman needs to be protected,” he went on, “not to fight in a man’s war.”

A man’s war?

What a pig-headed dick!

It became apparent that this argument was useless. Clearly, some people could never be convinced of anything that falls outside of their own point of view.

“Whatever.” I waved my hand at him, heading for the trees. Anger refused to settle inside me, and I needed to put some distance between him and me to avoid completely losing my temper. “I’d better take a washroom break now before one of us ends up getting punched in his face.”

Agan promptly drew his knives out from their sheaths at his hips, rushing after me.

“I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“To watch out for any danger while you...you know, pee,” he explained.