Chapter 20 - Riggs

CHAPTER 20 - RIGGS

R eality comes back slowly, accompanied by a sharp pain in my temple every time I attempt to open my eyes. I hear nothing at first, so I take my time, just trying to breathe and remember where I am.

Where was I?

What was I doing?

At first there is nothing but a gray fuzziness, but then—my eyes fly open as I try and stand up. Only to realize I'm sitting down and tied to a chair.

"Welcome back, lover boy."

My head whips to the side and there she is. Hattie. Sitting on the concrete floor of an interrogation room with her knees drawn up to her chest and her back pressing against the wall. Her long, blonde hair is pulled back, as usual. But it's not neat. Little wisps have fallen out, framing her rather long face. She's always been tall and muscular, but she's never been pretty. Handsome is the word most people use to describe women like Hattie Miller. But her outward appearance isn't ugly, either. She's just not feminine.

Inside though, Hattie Miller is a hideous monster.

She is the definition of depraved, her personality encapsulating all the worst vices one might find in a person. She is haughty, and greedy, and envious of peers who have more accomplishments, or possess more power, or take better advantage of opportunities.

Her smile, when she looks my way, personifies evil.

I don't even think she does this on purpose. It's not a cultivated identity, it's just who she is.

"Well." She gets to her feet. "Look who's awake." I watch her as she approaches me with that sinister smile that comes so easy to her. "Are you cold?"

This is when I realize I'm naked. And what I was doing when Hattie burst in. "Where's Clover?" My voice is raspy and I swallow, suddenly understanding that I must've been blacked out for a while because my mouth is so dry, this one simple act feels impossible. Still, I do my best. "Where is she, Hattie? Where is Clover?"

Hattie circles me, stops behind me, and then her fingertips are touching my hair. "I didn't interrupt anything when I pulled you away from your prisoner, did I, Riggs? I mean, I know the two of you were in bed, and naked, and?—"

"Where is she!" I've recovered enough now that my words come out strong and commanding.

Hattie laughs. "Don't worry," she says, still standing behind me, stroking my hair. "We gave her some clothes. I wasn't going to, but my men were getting a little frisky with her unconscious body, so?—"

"You bitch. If they touched her?—"

"If they touched her… what , Riggs? What are you going to do about it?"

I take a moment to calm down, all the while reminding myself that Hattie isn't like that. She's not moral, or anything. She's just rigid. By the book. She loves rules. And there are rules of engagement when it comes to prisoners. None of her men are touching Clover.

Me, though? Different story. I'm not a prisoner, I'm a traitor. So she continues to stroke my hair.

I shake my head and roll my shoulders, trying to push her off in the only way I can.

This makes her sigh, but it comes out with a lot of satisfaction. She walks around to my front and stands there, looking down at me with an amused grin that comes off so wicked, I nearly recoil. "Do you understand what is happening, Riggs?"

"You burst in on my plan?—"

Her guffaw cuts off the rest of my sentence and I go silent as she tips her head back, laughing. She takes her time recovering, but when she does, that smile drops. And as nasty as it was, the expression that takes its place is something altogether vile. She grits her teeth. "Do not even bother with whatever lie you've come up with to hide the fact that you—once again—betrayed us."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I took her prisoner."

"You were fucking her, Riggs."

"So what? I was horny, she was there. And I didn't force her. She was willing. Who cares if I was fucking her. I was bringing her back?—"

" Stop !" Hattie says this one word so loud, and with such animosity and conviction, I actually do stop. "Just stop, Riggs. You weren't bringing her back."

But I don't agree. I shake my head. Because there's no way she could know this. She can't read my mind. She doesn't know my plan, she only thinks she does.

Hattie sighs and shakes her head. "I feel sorry for you."

"Don't bother," I sneer. "I don't need your pity. I was bringing her back with me because I wanted to keep her. There. Is that what you were waiting to hear? I was lying to her about getting her out, but I just wanted to keep her for myself. That's why I was fucking her. That's why she was with me. I like her, Hattie. She's my prize for a job well done."

This is absolutely not what Hattie Miller wants to hear and I am very aware of this. Clover described Hattie as either a bitchy jilted ex or a bitter, scorned woman looking for vindication.

She's both. Though I didn't admit to the first one with Clover—it's my past, so it's my business. But Hattie and I were dating when I left that first time. It wasn't real. I was using sex to lower her defenses and mitigate any growing suspicions she had about my loyalty to the Colony. And it worked.

I tricked Hattie into thinking I cared about her.

That's why she hates me.

It wasn't because I broke the rules.

It was because I broke her heart.

And what I just said about Clover breaks it all over again. It's got nothing to do with love, though I can see myself loving Clover if we had the chance. But it's not my emotional attachment to Clover that bothers Hattie, it's my claim .

I basically just called her mine.

Something Hattie wanted to be, but never was.

It's dangerous to use Clover in this way. Hattie is capable of hideous things. But I need to take control immediately or this will end badly.

Hattie believes me. I've known her my whole life so I can see it in her face.

This belief fades though. In real time, as I'm looking at her. And in its place comes certainty. Not in what I just said, but in herself.

She turns, walks over to the wall, and turns again, leaning against it with her arms crossed. She's about six feet away and she is glaring at me. "Your father's not here yet. Won't be until tomorrow."

"So?"

"So that means I'm in command here."

"And? Are you trying to impress me, Hattie? Because if so, you've missed the mark. Subservience doesn't impress me."

She scoffs. "That's funny. Because from what I saw on the surveillance footage at Clover Bradley's house, her submission was your downfall. It was the food, I think. That's the night she gave in. When you went all the way down to Fayetteville to get her those burgers."

"You were watching me?"

Hattie's scoff is now a condescending rumble of laughter. "Of course I was, Riggs. Do you really think anyone from the Colony trusts you? Please. That's absurd. You're a traitor ." She grits that word out between her teeth with disgust. Like she just got a taste of spoiled food. "No one trusts you. Especially your father. That's why he sent me along to keep an eye on you. And this little story you're cooking up about bringing her back with you? Save it. I heard your whole plan. It was like…" She stops here to smile at me. "Like I was in the room with you."

Then she pushes off the wall, laughing, and walks around behind me again. Her fingers once again playing with my hair. "This was nothing but a test. And you failed. So guess what happens next?"

Involuntarily, my mind conjures up an image of the tunnels. Of me, stuck in them for the rest of my life. Dirty, and hot, and starving, and sick and coughing from the dust and debris of the job.

"Those tunnels are your forever home, Riggs. The darkness is your future. You will never get another chance. And I'm sad for you, I really am." Her fingertips begin tickling my neck, sending a chill down my spine.

I grit my teeth, putting a stop to the reaction she is so carefully cultivating. "You've never been sad for anyone in your life, Hattie."

"It's not true. I love you. You're my best friend, Riggs."

"You're delusional."

"Maybe." She walks around in front of me again, her fingertips lingering in my hair until the last second when she has to pull them away. "It's a weakness, I know. My fatal flaw, or something. But my misplaced sense of love and loyalty to you can save you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your father's not here yet, so I'm in charge."

"So what?"

"I could… make a deal with you. In fact, I have the authority to do just that." She reaches into the long pocket along the right thigh of her tactical pants and pulls out a piece of paper folded into quarters. I watch as she carefully unfolds it, all the while grinning.

I don't wanna ask, but the question comes out anyway. "What's that?"

"This?" She holds up the unfolded paper. "This is the deal I'm gonna offer you."

I swallow and steel myself for what's coming. Because it's not going to be good.

"The offer is… your freedom in exchange for Clover's life."

I scoff. "You want me to kill her?"

"To save yourself, Riggs. Yes. I want you to kill her. Then, when your father gets here, I'll back up your story about why you brought her down here. With one minor substitution. You weren't bringing her home to keep for yourself, you were bringing her as a hostage. He'll believe it."

"No, he won't. Do you think my father is stupid?"

Hattie takes offense to this. "Of course not. And if this story were coming from you, there's no way he would believe it. But from me , Riggs?" She smiles at me. "He'll believe anything I say. I'll destroy those recordings, I'll back up your story, I'll mark your assignment complete and give you a commendation. You'll get all the perks and privileges of being the general's son. A new house, a wife." She points to herself. "You'll come home to me every night." Hattie pauses here. Sighs. "Or… you go back down to those tunnels and die there the way a traitor deserves." She straightens her spine, lifts up her chin, and crosses her arms. "I'll save you from that fate and you'll get your life back."

"If I kill her ."

"That's right," Hattie says. "If you kill Clover Bradley, I will save you."