Chapter 4 #2
That’s the first time Liz allowed herself to really look at him.
His torn shirt has been replaced with a black-hooded sweatshirt.
She eyes his shoulder. The image of his torn skin and blood dripping down her hand sends a wave of nausea over her.
She doesn’t bother letting herself feel any remorse.
Maybe he was trying to save her, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.
“You’re out of line, soldier! You’re going to throw away your career for a bitch who tried to kill you?” he shouts at Riley.
“Hey! Fuck you,” Liz shrieks at him. Both men glance at her in shock at her outburst.
The air in the room stills. Everything goes quiet as Riley looks at his general. He takes a step closer, his broad chest almost touching the general’s face, and looks down at him.
“What did you just call her?” he asks, too calm.
The general pales, taking a step back. He looks at Liz again, who’s glaring back at him like she’s rooting for Riley to tear his head off. The general made it obvious he fears the man in the mask, and that man doesn’t want her harmed, for now.
The general finally turns and walks out the door, telling someone she can’t see to make sure he gets his information, before finally scurrying away. Liz listens as his footsteps fade before finally turning her attention to the man who saved her.
His mask is different, only covering the bottom half of his face: plain, black carbon fiber extending just enough to cover his nose.
Short and scruffy dark blond hair shows, and when she finally dares to look at his face, her gaze lands on the piercing caramel eyes staring back at her, softening when they meet hers.
She silently curses at herself for not looking away, her stomach turning to knots, but she can’t tear her eyes from him.
There is something in the way he looks at her, something safe.
Her fight or flight instinct has always been impeccable, since the day a man approached her at a park as a child.
She kicked him and ran away, listening to that instinct ever since.
Now, it's silent, there is nothing, no sensation screaming at her that this man is dangerous despite knowing he is.
Another man walks in, Riley breaks their eye contact, his expression hardening back up. The man is a few inches shorter than his friend, wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt. He smiles at her before walking over to the table and sitting down.
Riley shuts the door, and he lets his shoulders finally relax. He strides back to the table, Liz analyzing his every move. He doesn’t try to sit, instead stands on the other side of the table, arms crossed, his ominous demeanor making it hard for her to not shrink away.
“My name’s Mike. Big guy over there calls me Mikey,” the man says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Riley. He clears his throat, and before he can start to talk again, Riley steps around and sits in the chair next to Mikey.
“What’s your name?” he asks, eyes softening when he looks at her. She doesn’t know why, but she’s compelled to actually answer. Maybe it’s the fear he will make her life hell, or maybe it’s how he defended her to the general, but she feels like she owes him something.
“Liz,” she says, “or Lizzie, I guess.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lizzie. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.” Mikey says, smiling at her. She looks back down at her hands, quietly fiddling with the chain, not willing to give these men more than she has to.
“Do you have any family looking for you?” Riley asks. Seeing the pain flash across her face, he quickly changes the subject. “How did you end up in Dmitri’s cells?”
“And how long have you been there?” Mikey quickly adds.
“Just try to tell us what you’re comfortable with, you have my word that we won't push it,” Riley says when she doesn’t respond.
The torn shirt she's wearing slips down her shoulder as she adjusts uncomfortably in her seat.
She can feel Riley's eyes lingering on her exposed skin but when she meets his gaze he quickly looks away.
There is something in the way he carries himself that she can't quite read.
Her eyes narrow, watching with caution as he slips out of his chair.
He paces the room, needing to let out a little energy before he goes and finds the people who brought her here.
“Commander?” Mikey asks.
His pacing continues, seeming to get more and more angry about something he is keeping to himself.
“Riley!” Mikey tries again. This time he stops and looks at Liz. She’s eyeing him with more curiosity than fear.
“Did anyone offer you a change of clothes?” Riley asks.
Liz becomes painfully aware of her clothing, or lack thereof, all over again. As she goes to cover herself, her arms are stopped by the chains holding her to the table, the loud bang of metal on metal filling the small space.
“Food? Water? Anything? Or did they just force you in here and chain you to the fucking table?” Riley shouts, causing Liz to jump. Not sure what will set him off, she shakes her head no.
“I think I made them mad,” she whispers. Agitation is still plastered on his face, but when he looks at her his eyes are concerned, not angry.
“What do you mean?” he asks. He follows her gaze when her eyes shoot to the door, knowing they aren’t truly alone.
“You’re safe with us. Even if they could hear you, me and Riley wouldn’t let them near you,” Mikey says.
Liz nods her head in acknowledgement. “When I woke up, they were grabbing me. I screamed at them and some doctor ran in yelling about sedating me,” Liz chokes out, each word burning her raw throat.
“That woman who was here, Paula, she came in and yelled at them, and they seemed angry. After they brought me here she said if I answered them I could get food, but it just pissed that Scott guy off,” she quietly adds.
“I bet that’s why he made her leave.” Mikey says, turning to Riley.
“Did they hurt you?” Riley asks, his tone pure ice. Her eyes flick back to the door and he gets his answer. Still, he waits to see if she will tell him anything.
“No,” she says, unable to meet his eyes. “The big one pushed me in here and wasn’t too gentle putting these on,” she says, lifting her wrists. “But, that’s all he did.”
His eyes narrow on her wrists covered in small cuts, and where there aren’t cuts, her skin is raw from cuffs. He looks at the table, seeing the smears of now dried blood sends him into a rage all over again.
“Mikey, watch her. No one comes near this fucking room until I get back,” Riley says.
Mikey immediately stands and walks out the door, leaving just the two of them. Riley looks at her, opening his mouth to say something before deciding against it. He simply opens the door and storms out, leaving her scared and alone once again.