Chapter 9 - Clover

CHAPTER 9 - CLOVER

I 'm on the second floor of the house, just heading up the stairs that lead to my attic bedroom, when I have doubts about what's going to happen next. Not just the part about spending the night together in my childhood bedroom, but the entire offer to ‘save me.'

Because it occurs to me that this offer of food might've been a ruse to get my guard down. And now that I've actually formed this thought in my head, it seems very likely that it's the case. Because it worked.

When I was looking at him downstairs, I saw a person, not a kidnapper. And that's quite a switch from my perception of him earlier in the day.

How many ways did he threaten to kill me?

Several. And at no point did I ever think he was joking, either.

So why the hell did I agree to sleep in the same bedroom with him? Was it really just because I wanted a bed instead of a hard, wooden floor?

Or did my perception change because he took the blindfold off and I was able to get a good look at him?

I'm leaning towards number two when I reach the top of the stairs and take a few steps into my bedroom. I turn to face him as he reaches the top step too.

We pause, studying each other for a moment. And this makes my heart skip. Not because he's handsome. I kinda knew that since I did actually see his face that first day. More because I now have time to actually notice his good looks. There were so many other emotions clamoring for top spot in my mind, his hotness factor didn't even crack the top hundred things I was focusing on the past two days.

Now… well, now everything feels different. He has offered to save me and not let me die of thirst and starvation. And stupid me just… believed him.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"You're having second thoughts about this, aren't ya?"

"No. I mean"—I pause to sigh—"a little bit."

"I'm not interested."

"In?"

"You. Like at all ."

"Oh, you're into men?"

"What? No."

"Then why did you say it like that? I'm not ugly or anything."

"I'm just not interested."

"You have a girlfriend down in your tunnel?"

"No. I told you. I was in our version of prison for the last six years."

"Were there women down there?"

"No."

I press my lips together and suck in a breath.

He closes the bedroom door behind him, turning the lock. Then he looks at me with a smile. "You're not my type."

"OK, then." I turn my back to him and walk over to my bed. Then take a seat on the edge and look at my feet. My heels are still very sore from all that kicking I did the first day, trying to get his attention. But at least they're no longer bloody. Everything about my body seems… tight. I'm wound up and unable to relax. And the tension inside me is looking for a release, I think, because as I try and force myself to relax, I start trembling. And no matter how many moments I take to close my eyes and breathe, this trembling feels like the precursor to an explosion. An eruption of pent-up emotions or something.

To take my mind off what's happening to my body, I look up and study the man who's been holding me prisoner. He's tall, fit and a bit on the muscular side. He's wearing black pants, a black t-shirt, and black boots. All of this lends an air of ‘military' to his look. His hair is light brown, which is nearly the same color as his eyes. They almost look hazel, but not in a blue-green Collin Creed way. More like a… lion or a wolf. "You're not a werewolf, are you?"

"What?" He laughs.

"Your eyes are a bit… disturbing."

"Oh. That. Yeah. Sometimes they come off gold, but they're not. Just brown. It's a trick of the light."

"That wasn't my question."

He shakes his head at me. "No, Clover. I'm not a werewolf."

"But you say you come from some underground city. Some secret underground city. You're not human for all I know."

He sits down on the overstuffed chair near my window and starts unlacing his boots. "Trust me, doesn't matter if you're up or down, it's all the same shit."

"So what's it like there?"

He kicks off a boot and looks at me. "Am I making you nervous?"

"No. Why?"

"Because you're very chatty."

"Well, I don't even know your name."

He and I stare at each other for a moment, his eyes doing a little search of mine. "Riggs. I'm Riggs."

"Do you have a last name?"

"Of course. But you don't need to know my last name." He puts up a hand when I open my mouth to object. "And before you tell me it will even things out, forget it. That only works once and you used it up. I told you about my prison time and the way I see it, you owe me something now because I don't know anything personal about you."

My gaze travels around the room, looking at all the hundreds and hundreds of photographs that are tacked up to dozens of corkboards. Then I train my gaze back on him. "Looks to me like you got a good look at my entire life, so that's not even accurate."

"Baby pictures of you and your ponies isn't quite the same."

"You took one."

"What?" He sneers this word out.

"You took one." I point to a corkboard. "It came from that one right there. It was a picture of me holding the deed to this house. Normally, I wouldn't notice if a picture was missing, but that was the last one I put up. And now it's gone." My eyes narrow down. "So you took it."

He tilts his head a little, just the beginnings of a smile creeping up one side of his face. "Are you gonna make me put it back?"

"Is it going to be your trophy?"

"What?"

"Isn't that something serial killers do? Take something personal as a trophy?"

"Wow." He laughs. "First, you're accusing me of being a werewolf, now a serial killer. I think you might just need to get some fuckin' sleep."

As soon as he says that, I know he's right. I'm being dumb. My mind is confused and my imagination is getting the better of me. "But this underground city stuff?"

"What about it?"

"I don't understand. It's like you came right out of the pages of a story."

"It's not magic, Clover. It's not anything like that. You just think it is because it's unfamiliar to you, and you're sleep-deprived, and you've been through a lot the past couple of days. It's military, OK?"

"Our military? Or your military?"

"They're the same thing."

"This makes no sense. You're telling me that the American government has a bunch of secret underground cities?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Why would they keep that secret?"

"Why?" He laughs. "Why wouldn't they?"

"So there are two Americas? One up here and one down below?"

"We're not the only country with underground cities. Every country in Europe has at least one as well. Australia has three. Canada's is connected to ours via train. Same with Mexico. Shit, we could take a train all the way down to the tip of Argentina and never see the sky once, if we wanted to."

Internally, I scoff at this. We ? There is no ‘we.'

But he's being reasonable, so I don't bring it up. I need more information. I mean, of course I'm going with him. It's either that or get left behind in my personal dungeon. I need to be reasonable as well. Whether or not his offer is genuine isn't really the point. The point is that I have to play along until I come up with a better solution. So I ask questions. "Where is this place? Where will I end up when this trip is over?"

His boots are now off so he stands up, pulls his shirt up over his head, and tosses it onto the chair behind him. He walks around the other side of the bed and I turn in place to watch him. He doesn't ask me for permission to sleep in the bed, nor does he hesitate. Just slides his body right under my covers and turns onto his stomach, one eye open so he can look at me. "If you lie down and stop talking, I'll tell you all about it."

I stare at him for a few moments, suddenly remembering that we're going to be sharing a twin bed and he's already taking up most of the space. He doesn't say anything as these thoughts work their way through my head, but he doesn't have to. His eyes are dancing with amusement. Will I get in next to him? Will I sleep on the floor? Will I try and kick him out?

My first choice would be number three, but he probably saw that coming and that's why he got into bed so fast. I'm not sleeping on the floor, so… I shrug, throw up my hands, and let out a long breath as I slide my body in next to his.

It's a tight fit and our shoulders are squished together as I look up at the ceiling. "OK. I'm in bed with you. Now answer my question. Where will you take me?"

He doesn't say anything. And this silence lingers long enough to be awkward, so I turn my head and look at him. That one open eye. It's not any kind of brown I've seen before. It's very light.

"Well?" I ask.

"I'm trying to decide how much to tell you."

"Because if you tell me too much, then you'll have to kill me?" He doesn't laugh. "It's a joke."

"Yeah. I know it's a joke."

"But you didn't laugh."

"Because it's not funny."

"Oooookay." I let out a frustrated breath and pull the covers all the way up to my chin, even though they've been on this bed for years and smell stale. Because the shaking that started out as a chill a few moments ago is starting to turn into an out-of-control shiver. The kind of shivering that reminds me of when I was a young, cool teenager who refused to wear a heavy coat in the winter because it clashed with my outfit. So I would find myself standing at the bus stop in the rain and wind, shivers bursting out of my body like tiny explosions because I was so cold.

It's summertime, so the room is warm. Not overly warm, but much too warm to be shivering.

When I turn my head to side-eye him, Riggs is watching me, his eyes narrowed down a little. "I can't tell you everything, obviously. There's a real chance I would be killed if we aren't careful and I get caught bringing you down below."

I turn and look at him, hugging myself as I try to stop the shivers. It's panic, maybe? Fear? Exhaustion? "Then why would you help me? Wouldn't it be easier if you just left me here? I would promise not to say anything. I wouldn't . My word is good, it really is. Why risk everything by taking me with you when leaving me behind is the easy answer?"

He's shaking his head the whole time while these words are coming out. "No. It's more of a risk to leave you behind." That one exposed eye flits up to meet mine. "This operation is important. What I'm doing here, it's important."

"Because you'll go back down to those tunnels if you mess it up."

"That's only part of it. The selfish part. But the mission is something I believe in."

My whole face screws up. "What mission ?"

"That's not something you need to know about. But there are things I should tell you. About the city, at least. So you're not looking around like a fuckin' tourist the moment we come out of the tunnel."

I turn on my side, cheek pressed into the pillow, and hug myself even tighter. "OK. I'm ready then. Let's hear it. Tell me all about your secret underground city."

That one eye squints. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You're shivering like it's cold in here. It's got to be seventy-five or eighty degrees in this room."

"I don't know. It's… adrenaline, or something."

His upper body comes up off the bed and he stares at me with narrowed eyes. "Do you need more blankets?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Don't get sick on me. I'm warning you. If you get sick when we're underground, we'll get caught for sure. They'll send you to the clinic and everything about that visit will be a red flag because they won't be able to match your biomarkers."

"I'm w-w-way too tired for words like ‘biomarkers.'" My teeth are chattering now.

He actually smiles and lets out a chuckle.

"And I'm not sick. I'm just…" I let out a long breath, trying to calm myself out of this trembling that seems to have taken control of my body since he offered to save me. "It's just exhaustion. Just tell me what I need to know."

We stare at each other for a moment, him propped up on his elbows now, me still hugging myself, trying to stop the shakes. "First of all, I need to understand how well you know Ike Monroe."

"Not at all. Why?"

"Because he runs the Blackberry Hill Colony and that's where we're going first."

"I've never heard of Blackberry Hill. I've heard about Ike Monroe, but only because Lowyn got herself mixed up with him when she was younger. I was away at school when that happened, though. So I didn't even know about her story until just this year when it all came back to haunt her and Collin had to go in and get her out of Ike's secret mountain town up in the hills above Disciple."

"Well, that secret mountain town is just the beginning of what Ike Monroe actually controls. But I need to be absolutely sure you've never met him."

"Never."

"All right. Then this might work. You're going to be my neighbor from back home."

"Which is… where?"

"Kingfisher Flats. A place on the edge of the Rocky Mountains and underneath Colorado and Wyoming."

"So." I squint my eyes at him. "The whole ‘tunnels under the Denver airport' conspiracy theory is real then, isn't it?"

"No. I mean, maybe. But whatever tunnels are under that airport, they've got nothing to do with where I come from."

"So you're not an alien?"

He laughs. "What?"

"I'm pretty sure there's aliens under that airport."

"Whatever." He shakes his head a little, but he's smiling now. And it's not a bad smile. "I'm not an alien. Now stop interrupting me. This is important. You're going to be my neighbor from back home and your name is Hattie."

"Hattie?" I make a face. "Why can't I just be Clover?"

"Because Hattie is my actual neighbor and you're pretending to be her."

"Ohhhh. She's real? Well, you left that part out."

"Because it's not important."

"Oh, my God." My face lights up. "You have a thing for Hattie."

"What? No. Stop interrupting me. You're Hattie Miller. You live next door to me?—"

"Oh, that's cute. You fell for the girl next door."

"Do you want to die of starvation and thirst in your basement? Because it's really starting to feel like you do."

"Sorry. Continue."

"My father loves Hattie." His eyes narrow down as I hold in my snort. Because it's so obvious that this Hattie and he were a thing. "She's a prissy do-gooder, so it would be just like him to send her after me to make sure I don't fuck up."

"The good girl next door. I love it."

"Clover."

"Sorry. It's just… very cliché. But cute, at the same time. I'll shut up now, I swear. I'm Hattie Miller, and your father prearranged our marriage when we were… thirteen?"

"That's it." He gets up and grabs my arm, pulling me out of bed on his side. "Back to the dungeon."

"I'll stop, I swear. Let go of me." But I'm laughing as I say this because this is all so obviously true. He had a thing with Hattie. I pull back and he lets my arm go, so he's not really serious about throwing me back into the dungeon. But I am starting to piss him off, so I back down. "I promise, I won't say another word." Then I go back under the covers and wrap myself up, my body shaking worse now after the chill of being in the open air. "Continue."

Riggs glares at me for a few moments, but he looks exhausted too. So he's not really up to the task of dragging me down four flights of stairs and locking me up tonight. "That's it. That's the plan. You're Hattie and you came to check on me. Hattie works above ground, so this explains why Ike didn't see her come through on the trains. She would've met up with me up top. This little story explains everything. We'll probably only be in the Blackberry Hill Colony for a few hours as we wait for the next train to Kingfisher. Once we're on the train, we'll ride it until we get to Lazuli Waystation. That's the stop on the border of Kansas and Colorado. We'll get off, I'll take you somewhere safe, and after a set period of time, you will be released."

My trembling body calms for a moment as my brain uses that energy to think about what he just said. "Hold on."

"What?"

"You're taking me away from my home just to drop me off and leave me at another place? Why? Why can't I just stay here and promise not to leave until this set period of time is over?"

"Because you told me your boss didn't know you were fired. She's gonna come looking for you."

"Yeah, but that's gonna happen whether I go with you or not."

"But if you come with me, she won't find you."

"So how long are you gonna lock me in this safe place of yours?"

"Three months."

I sit straight up in bed. "Three months ! What the fuck!"

"I need that time, Clover. I need it. And this is a true safe place, you'll see. There's plenty of food, and water, and stuff to do."

"Stuff to do like what ?" My eyes are still boggled wide, because I didn't see this twist coming.

"Lots of things, you'll see."

"So what happens after three months?"

"The door unlocks and you leave."

"What am I supposed to tell people when I finally come back?"

He shrugs. "It won't matter by then. The job will be done."

"Wait." I narrow my eyes at him. " What job?"

"Story time's over now. You've got all the information you need." We stare at each other for a few minutes, just the moonlight coming through my childhood bedroom window to light us up.

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading his right now.

The job is Collin Creed because Collin is a problem. A kink in a chain. A snag in the fabric of... well, something military, that's obvious. And this Riggs guy here fully expects the problem to be resolved in three months.

Done as in… dead? My shivering starts again, and this time it's nearly out of control. "Y-y-you're going to k-k-kill him, aren't you?"

Riggs turns over on his back and lets out a breath as he stares up at the ceiling. "Go to sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."