Chapter 11
Liz groans as she stands, reluctantly walking to the door, and silently kicking herself for knowing just how Riley knocks.
She cracks the door and drags herself back to sit on the edge of the bed, she needs to know what he will do.
The little voice in the back of her head screams at her to trust him, but she isn’t sure she can trust that voice any longer.
The first day he brought her, he made it abundantly clear he can go in and out as he pleases, but will he?
“Can I come in?” she glances over at Riley nodding slightly, trying not to show the pure shock of asking for consent.
Gentle footsteps make their way in, stopping just inside the doorway.
The comforting scent of his cologne dances around her room.
She looks away and waits, ready for him to yell at her.
Riley closes the door behind him in an attempt to give them some privacy.
Liz notes that his mask changed again. This time it’s just a ski mask with only the bottom half of a skull.
He’s in the same black hoodie from the other day with the hood pulled up.
She wonders to herself what the deal is, wishing she had asked the other day instead of storming off.
“I brought you dinner,” he says, trying to keep things as casual as he can, sure she is still furious with him.
He takes a step further into the room, smiling to himself for seeing her finally on the bed instead of the floor.
It’s a small step in the right direction. For now it’s all he can ask for.
“I talked to the general, and the good news is he agreed to let us teach you to fight. I think he’s hoping you will kill one of us in the process,” he says, hoping it will get some sort of reaction from her.
“The bad news… is he’s insisting we confirm your story, find something about you on some sort of database before we can let you go.
Hopefully it will only take a few weeks. ”
“Weeks? You’re going to keep me prisoner for weeks?” she shouts. She stands from her spot on the bed and storms to where he’s standing, glaring up at him like she wants nothing more than to stab him again.
“Look princess, unless you gave me a fake name and have been lying this whole time, someone wanted you gone and did a hell of a good job of making that happen,” he shouts back, instantly regretting it.
He takes a steadying breath and a small step back to give her space and says—“I’m doing everything I can to help you, but it’s going to take some time. ”
She doesn’t back down. There is just something about him she can’t explain. Deep down she knows he won’t hurt her, even if she did snap and scream at him.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I was chained to a floor and beaten every fucking day only to be taken by you and locked in a new fucking prison by some asshole with a complex, and you think I would lie about who the fuck I am?” she practically screams, taking a few steps in his direction until they were almost touching.
Her fists are balled at her sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to swing.
“And I’m not your fucking princess,” she snaps, emerald eyes burning.
He doesn’t respond, but simply takes a small step forward, forcing their bodies together.
She sucks in a sharp breath, looking up at him.
Her senses are overloaded at the closeness, the smell of him, the warmth of his body, the rightness of it all is too much.
Unsure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer, Liz focuses on not doing anything she may regret.
When she doesn’t back down, he lowers his head until his masked mouth is next to her ear, and whispers— “Come eat dinner, princess.” He turns on his heels and walks out of the room, leaving her standing there, mouth open, to process what she’s feeling.
She takes a moment to compose herself, trying to shake off the goose bumps Riley left her with.
She silently counts to five before striding for the door and walking out.
When she enters the main room, Mikey and Riley stop talking and look at her, a dumb smile plastered on Mikey’s face.
She eyes them, wondering what they could have been talking about.
“What’s up with him today?” she asks Riley, pointing her head at Mikey. Riley looks over at him, seeing the smile on his face.
“He’s just hungry,” he says, pulling containers of food out of a box.
Liz walks to the table, her eyes catching on the big bags sitting on the couch.
She ignores them and sits at the table, the smell of the food making her salivate.
Mikey and Riley join her and start making plates.
Riley loads up with grilled chicken, mixed veggies, and roasted potatoes before he sets it down in front of her.
“Um…Thank you?” she says, eyeing him, wondering why he’s being so nice after she yelled at him in the room. There has to be more to it. Never in her life has she been lucky, certainly not lucky enough to be held hostage by someone who truly wants the best for her.
Liz and Mikey eat in silence while Riley does something on his phone.
She keeps peeking over at him, wondering why he isn’t eating.
When they finally finish, Liz picks up their plates and brings them to the trash.
She hopes being helpful will keep Riley from being too mad at her for the outburst. The guys just watched her in awe, cleaning up was the last thing they expected.
When everything is picked up, she quietly thanks them for the food and heads back to her room.
“Not so fast,” Riley says, causing her to stop and turn around. She looks at him with a mix of confusion and fear seeing the excitement in his eyes. “Those bags are for you. And before you say anything, you don’t owe me shit,” he says before she can say what he knew she was thinking.
She walks back to the couch, looks at the bags, and then back to Riley. Suspicions rising, Liz wraps her arms around her slender body, not willing to risk touching anything.
“I just guessed at what you needed, check the bags and let me know what else you want me to grab,” he says, walking over to the fridge and taking a beer.
Liz peeks into the first bag: a shoe box and some basic toiletries.
Tears spring to her eyes. She moves a few things around in the second bag, spotting a few pairs of leggings and a hooded sweatshirt.
When she gets to the third, the first thing she sees, sitting right on top, is a tiny red ball of lace.
She reaches into the bag and pulls it out, holding it up for him to see.
“Really?” she asks, dropping it back into the bag.
Mikey lets out a sharp whistle, clearly impressed with Riley’s selection.
“I don’t know what you wear. That’s just what I pictured you in,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. Liz’s eyes widen at the confession while her stomach turns to knots.
Mikey slinks toward the door, not wanting to witness whatever is about to happen.
Riley sees him reach the door; he puts his beer down and turns to beg him to stay, but before he can stop him, Mikey opens it and slips out.
He lets out an audible groan and leans against the counter, knowing she is going to hate him more than ever.
“Excuse me? You think about me… in my underwear?” Her face reddens.
He pushes off the counter and walks over to her, getting almost as close as he had before, her whole body grows warm while her legs grow weaker.
Stockholm syndrome, she reminds herself.
She has not been around a kind man since the last time she has seen her husband, and her body is doing a piss poor job of reacting to being around one.
“I can’t help it. Every time I see you wearing my clothes…” He reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger.
Liz lowers her head, blushing. She should be pulling away from him, but the warmth of his hand on her skin spreads over her body. She stands frozen.
Riley slides his finger down her jaw, tucking it under her chin. He gingerly tips her head up, forcing her to look at him. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about what you’re not wearing under them.”
Liz’s big green eyes go wide, looking up at him full of lust she will never admit to feeling.
She takes a step back, clearing her throat, not ready to think about the feelings this man stirs up in her.
She keeps telling herself it’s just Stockholm syndrome.
Repeating it over and over again, hoping if she says it enough it will become true.
It has barely been a week and she is his prisoner.
There’s no way she can actually be attracted to him, then he goes and says things like that while looking at her like he wants to make her forget every horrible thing she has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—”
“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this,” she says, cutting him off and gesturing to the bags.
She wants nothing more than to never speak about what just happened.
The pain in his eyes was obvious during his apology, he feels like a monster.
Realization washes over her. Monsters don’t feel like monsters.
When a man is truly evil they thrive on their victims fear, they don't feel bad for it.
She starts getting choked up so she says the only thing she can– “I would have been fine figuring something out for myself.”
“If you want to keep wearing my clothes, you can just say that. I’ll never tell you no.” He teases to see her blush again. Riley looks away, cursing himself under his breath. There is something so captivating about her, he can’t help himself.
“You’re still an ass,” she says, smiling at him, the first genuine smile she’s had in years. “But thank you, I promise I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“I’m not letting you pay me back, love.” Riley reaches over and picks the bags up, swiftly carrying them to her room.
Liz quickly follows. As soon as they step over the threshold of the room, Liz becomes painfully aware of how small the space is. She shifts on her feet, waiting for Riley to leave.
“We start training in the morning, so make sure you’re ready,” he says and walks out, closing the door behind him.
The room suddenly feels too empty with him gone, so Liz does the only thing she can, and starts unpacking the bags.
All the things Riley bought her were pretty normal: black leggings and plain shirts, sweatshirt and some basic hygiene things.
She takes the things for the bathroom and brings them to the door, setting them on the floor just outside the room.
She gets to the last bag, dumping it onto her bed: a couple sports bras fall out along with a pile of underwear and a small silk robe.
She picks up the robe and hangs it in the small closet.
Liz picks up the underwear to put them in the dresser, trying not to think about the fact Riley picked them all out for her, when she finds a small bottle of red nail polish.
Her heart starts to race, painfully aware she shouldn’t be feeling the emotions stirring within her.
Liz tries to focus on anything else, but the thoughtfulness of that one small bottle sends tears rushing to her eyes.
She grabs all the soap, finds the towel she used that morning and walks into the bathroom.
Liz puts the soap in the shower and sets the towel on the floor before making sure the door to Riley’s room is locked.
She turns the shower on boiling hot before stripping and getting in.
She attempts to move quickly but ultimately decides to take full advantage of everything Riley bought her.
She plucks the pink razor from the floor and shaves every hair from her body.
She starts to think back to being locked up, when one of the “doctors” would come in and wax her for no reason other than humiliation.
She takes a deep breath, sliding the razor up her leg, relishing in how good it feels to do something because she wants to.
She finishes and moves on to her hair, washing it twice.
Liz quickly lathers up her new loofah and scrubs her body, the scent of vanilla and cashmere filling the small space.
Once she is done, she climbs out, instantly missing the heat.
Liz wraps up in the towel and gives herself a once over in the mirror.
Her eyes are slowly fading into a sick yellow hue instead of deep purple and her split lip looks like nothing more than a bad scratch.
She rushes back to her room to dry off. She rifles through the drawer she stuffed all the underwear into and pulls out a random pair, stuffing her legs into them before putting the robe on and cinching it tightly around her waist. She’s amazed at how soft and luxurious it feels against her finally clean skin.
Wrapping her hair in the towel, she goes back into the bathroom, making sure to grab all of her things from the shower.
The next hour is spent brushing three months’ worth of tangles from her hair.
She managed to finish just as a headache set in.
Liz quickly pulls it into a French braid, surprised when the end reaches her lower back.
When she is satisfied with what she has accomplished, she heads back to the bathroom, her feet pattering across the floor.
She was about to open the door, just wanting to brush her teeth before bed, when she hears the sink turn on.
She glances down at her body, only clad in a pair of panties and the silky robe.
Not wanting Riley to see her like that, she walks back to her bed and crawls in.
She let herself enjoy the feeling of the soft, plush mattress for only a minute before beginning to overthink everything that happened.
Every word, every look, every touch they exchanged replays over and over again like a bad movie, sending her into a deep sleep.