Chapter 13
It has been a month since Liz was saved and three weeks since she started training.
The same routine every day: wake up, run, breakfast, hide in her room secretly working out until lunch.
After lunch is hand to hand training with Riley.
Then dinner, another secret workout, shower, collapse into bed.
Every day for three weeks. The guys showed surprise at how fast her body adjusted to its new physical demands, having no idea about the extra work she was putting in.
The more she allows herself to open up around Riley and Mikey, the more Riley is willing to leave her alone while he and Mikey are busy.
She doesn’t let that time go to waste. Once Liz knows there are no cameras watching her, she gets to work trying to find where Riley keeps his weapons.
By the third time being left alone, she stumbles upon a small gun safe tucked under the couch.
She has spent every day since trying harder to see Riley put his code into anything that has one as an option.
She makes a mental note of what numbers he uses, hopeful she can have it figured out soon.
Liz routinely asks about the general and his plans to let her go, but they just tell her it’s going to be a few more weeks.
She tries to wait it out and be patient, but she can’t take it any longer.
The more she’s around them, the more she questions everything.
They make her feel too comfortable, too cared for.
She thought for sure they would switch up and start treating her differently the longer she is there but it is the exact opposite.
Liz knows if she doesn’t get out soon, she will lose her nerve and this will all be for nothing.
She glances at the clock next to the tv, knowing they will be back with dinner soon. She slides the gun case back under the couch and runs to her room, locking the door behind her.
“I’m back, princess,” Riley yells, knowing the looks he’s going to get for calling her that.
The door swings closed and he walks to the small kitchen.
Liz comes out to see him pulling containers out of a bag and setting them on the counter.
The scent of garlic and marinara fills her lungs.
Once all the food is out, Riley opens the cabinet above his head and pulls out two plates.
“I didn’t think you even owned plates,” Liz says to him, causing him to chuckle softly.
He sets the plates down and starts to open the containers, piling the food onto the first one. “Of course I do. I just thought you would break it and stab me with the shards… Again.”
“I wouldn’t have stabbed you if you didn’t come at me first.” Liz waltzes to the table and sits before quickly realizing she didn’t make a plate.
She moves to get back up, but before she can, Riley sets a plate in front of her, then a second.
She looks down at the mountain of pasta, then to the salad on the smaller plate, eager to dig in.
“You haven’t made a single plate since you’ve been here, love,” he says, carrying his own plates over to the table and setting them down across from Liz. “Don’t try starting now.”
Liz starts to blush, realizing he’s right. She has always just had a plate full of food in front of her when she’s ready for it. She looks over at him, his warm golden eyes meeting hers.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling at him, wide and genuine.
“For everything,” she adds, avoiding the sinking feeling in her chest for what she knows is soon to come.
Riley has been nothing but kind to her, taking care of her both mentally and physically, while juggling trying to get her home, deal with the general, and do his job.
A job that is going to be ripped from him when she gets out. He will never forgive her.
Riley slides into the chair on the opposite side of the table, two glasses of wine in hand. He reaches over and hands one to Liz who is eyeing him like he’s trying to poison her.
“It’s safe,” he says, noting her suspicions. He sets the glass down and takes a drink from his own.
“Are we on a date?” Liz blurts out before she can stop herself.
Wine flies out of Riley’s mouth, covering the table. “What?” Riley asks, coughing.
Liz reaches for a napkin and starts to wipe up the mess.
“Mikey’s not here, you bring out a fancy ass dinner, on plates,” she makes sure to add extra emphasis on the word.
“And now you’re giving me wine. Seems like a date to me.
” She sets the napkin aside and waits for him to respond, too nervous to eat until he does.
“No, it’s not a date. You’re married, remember?” he says.
Something about the way he says it makes her wary. He looks as if saying the words left a bad taste in his mouth. Her heart rate quickens, pounding in her ears. Before the panic has a chance to claw its way out, Riley keeps talking.
“I know the last few weeks haven’t been easy, and I appreciate you putting your trust in me while I try to work things out, so I thought you deserved a better meal than commissary food.”
“Oh… um, okay. Thank you,” is all she can say before digging in.
Hoping the awkwardness is gone, they start to talk about training and what Riley’s plans are for teaching her self-defense.
They avoid anything to do with the general and getting Liz home, neither one willing to admit what that will mean for them and their blossoming friendship.
Soon enough, the conversation turns from exercise and fighting technique to casual conversation and Liz trying to figure out how Rileys manages to date if he never takes his mask off.
Without warning, Riley’s head shoots to the door, hearing something Liz can’t, seconds before the door flies open and Mikey runs in.
Riley is out of his seat in an instant, seeing his friend catching his breath has alarm bells blare in his head. He storms over to the couch, reaching for his carelessly placed gear as they wait for Mikey to explain.
“What’s wrong?” he asks Mikey, pulling his vest over his shoulders. He starts strapping his gun holsters back onto his legs, tightening them as Mikey starts to talk.
“They found Dmitri. We’ve been assigned to bring him in,” he says, eyes darting to where Liz sits.
“General called the rest of the force but sent me to deliver the news. He’s briefing them now.”
That’s all she needed to hear. Liz knows they are talking but she can’t hear anything. Everything goes silent. Her heart rate picks up, feeling like she can’t breathe. Her mind drags her back to the horrors Dmitri put her through.
Liz was able to push those memories out of her mind for weeks.
She buried them where they would never reach her.
That one stupid fucking name is ruining everything.
The men are talking, but no sound reaches her, she simply sits, staring forward, listening to the pounding in her ears as memories flash through her mind like the world's worst slideshow.
Eerie crystal blue eyes, one more white than blue where a deep scar runs through it.
Those evil eyes watched her while she was beaten by someone new.
A hard hand full of tacky rings slapping her across the face the first time she refused to apologize.
Nausea rises with the feel of thick, sticky blood coating her mouth, the coppery tang that she grew so used to tasting.
Liz saw him watching with a sick smile when a pissed off little man came into her cell carrying a handful of old wire.
He laughed the moment the first scream was ripped from her as those wires tore into her back.
Even when he was not physically there, the men working for him made sure she knew they were doing it for disrespecting him.
Freshly beaten, curled in on herself bleeding, crying in pain when four men storm into her cell, chains in hand. She begged, for the first time she pleaded with them to leave her, that didn't stop the flurry of fists and feet before being chained to the floor.
Fear grips her and refuses to let go, forcing her to relive the memories she tried to hide from even before Riley saved her.
Dmitri walked in with a man she had never seen following close behind, brown bag in hand.
Her hands were in chains, she had nowhere to go, no way to hide.
The man pulled a long needle from his bag, jamming it into her leg.
Her eyes got droopy and the room started to spin.
She will never know how long she was out, or what they did to her during that time, she never wants to.
“Head back, I’ll be there in five,” Riley says to Mikey, waiting for him to leave the room before turning his attention to Liz.
He will have to apologize for cutting off whatever his friend was trying to tell him, but once he heard Liz start to hyperventilate, that’s all he can think about.
He rushes to where she sits, standing in front of her, he gently puts his hands on either side of her face and tips her head to look at him.
Green eyes staring right through him, filled with nothing but fear and panic.
“Breathe, love. I need you to breathe,” he says to her, hoping to break through the thoughts swimming around her head.
Her eyes find his and she takes a shaky breath, then another, and another, slowly bringing her back to reality.
“Good girl,” he says, eyes still locked on hers as she takes another deep breath.
“Just like that, love, keep going.” After a few moments of breathing, she opens her mouth to talk, but no words come out.
She is paralyzed with fear, knowing the man who chained her up and tortured her is coming back into her life.
“Listen to me,” Riley says, crouching so he can be face to face with her and in a moment of pure desperation presses his forehead against hers.
“When we get him, I won’t let them bring him here.
He will never be near you again. I promise,” he says, gently stroking his thumb across her cheek.
“This is why you’ve been training, so he can’t hurt you. ”
Liz just looks at him, tears welling in her eyes, knowing she needs to make a move tonight before Dmitri ends up here, with her.
The plan she spent weeks working out no longer matters.
All her calculations are out the window.
Liz has one shot, she has to do whatever she can to get out.
She can’t move, can’t speak. There is so much she wishes she could tell him, so much she will never get the chance to explain.
She hates herself for what she has to do, but her time has finally run out.
“I have to go, princess,” Riley says, hoping the nickname will annoy her enough to pull her from the panic attack. He only allows himself another second with her head against his, before getting up and opening the door. He looks back at her, hating himself for leaving her in the condition she’s in.
“Half an hour, love. End of the meeting or not, I’m coming back to you in half an hour,” he says, stepping into the hall, door closing with a loud thud behind him.