His eyes dart between the two women, lingering on Liz, a silent question of if she will be okay without him for a few minutes.
She shoots him a smile, letting him know she will be fine. He backs toward the open elevator, his eyes glued to her until the last second when the doors finally close. Paula turns to Liz when he is out of earshot, laughing to herself under her breath.
“He is still so protective of you,” she says, making her way to the table and looking over the various maps and charts Riley had been working on.
“I want to say he’s gotten better, but I have had to stop him from committing murder more than once since we got him back,” Liz responds with a quiet laugh. “I never got to thank you for treating me like a person when I first woke up, and for defending me.”
“No need to thank me, dear. I just did what any decent person should have done. Not only did those men have orders they refused to follow, but they chose to treat you like a hardened criminal while knowing you were a victim.” Her gaze softens when she speaks the last part, looking at Liz like she can still see the broken woman lying chained to that hospital bed.
Paula turns back to the papers on the table when the elevator sounds again. Riley emerges, both arms filled with plastic bags bulging with food, effortlessly carrying them into the kitchen. Liz rushes to his side, urging him to continue his battle plans while she puts the groceries away and makes them all some dinner.
The aroma of sizzling garlic and chicken fills the room while Paula and Riley sit around the table talking strategy. For the first time in months, their house is starting to feel like a home again, even if half their family is missing. Liz keeps cooking, trying to hear every word they say while she dumps pasta into a pot of boiling water. She pulls the chicken from the pan, setting it aside to rest while a glob of butter is melted with more garlic. Cream and a heaping pile of parmesan cheese are added to the mix, whisking it quickly so she can join the conversation across the room. As soon as the cheese melts into a creamy alfredo sauce, she dumps the noodles in and tops it with her chicken, loading it onto three plates.
“Thanks, baby,” Riley says, rubbing the small of her back as she sets a steaming plate of food in front of him, much to Paula’s surprise. Liz hands her a plate and runs back to the kitchen before anyone can see just how red her face has turned.
“Baby huh? Your overprotectiveness makes more sense now,” she says, smiling at Riley.
“Spend ten minutes with her and try not to fall in love,” Riley says, winking at Liz as she strides back over with her own food.
“I’m not surprised. I should have seen it coming the minute she told Scott off in that room,” Paula chuckles. “You look happy,” she adds, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Now, let’s figure this out so we can get the rest of the family back, shall we?”
“We need to get in. I can get them out, but I need access to the base. If Scott is rounding us up, he must be planning something,” he says through a mouthful of food.
Liz continues to scribble into her notebook, oblivious to Riley watching her. His curiosity peaks.
“What have you been writing?” he asks. Reaching over, he tries to slip the book from her grasp only to have it yanked away.
“It’s nothing you don’t know already. You haven’t been back for long, and I have been on base for a while now, so I know the schedule pretty well,” Liz says timidly, laying her arms on the book to cover the information, embarrassed that’s all she has.
“That’s smart. Things change on bases, so having the current daily schedule will be a big help,” Paula says.
“These are also the people who went to save you. Alex told them that we didn’t have permission and they would most likely end up in trouble when we got back, but they went anyway. I figured if anyone would be willing to help, it would be them,” she says, slowly sliding her book over to Riley.
He flips back and forth between the pages, studying every inch of the schedule she has written before scanning the list of names.
“Lauren, John, Neil, Liam. Can you try and talk to them when you go tomorrow?” Riley asks Paula. “I already know Lauren is on board, but I don’t know the others well enough to get in contact with them.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Paula states, bringing her empty plate to the sink. “I can’t stay, but when you have a plan in place, let me know, and I will get the info to anyone willing to help. Liz, thank you for dinner, it was delicious,” she says walking over to the elevator.
“No need to thank me, it was the least I could do,” Liz says.
“Riley, I’ll be in touch. Make sure you get those plans done. I’m afraid you don’t have a lot of time,” she says before stepping in and pushing the button to close the door.
Silence lingers in the air around them while Liz makes quick work of picking up their plates and dumping them into the sink.Leaving Riley to think, she washes every dish, dries them, and puts them back in the cabinets. Anything to keep her mind off what could be happening to her friends. When the kitchen is spotless and Liz cannot find any more menial tasks to keep her busy, she goes back to Riley’s side, looking over the mountain of maps and information. Thoughts continue to race as her eyes land on the tiny square labeled “Admin”. She knows that is where the jail cells are, used for any soldier who steps out of line, or a team trying to simply get their leader back.
“What do we do now?” she asks, chin resting on the top of Riley’s head while her arms wrap around his shoulders.
“We wait,” he responds, reaching up to rub the arms holding him tight. “Paula and Lauren will gather any help they can find, while we work out what to do once they recruit those willing to help. I promised you some alone time, and I am not breaking that promise. So, until they assemble a team and it’s time to go, I plan on taking full advantage of having the house to ourselves. Crisis or not, we need to make up for lost time.”
“We can’t just be all lovey dovey while our friends are being held prisoner, Ry,” she says, pulling her arms from him.
“Why not?” he asks. The chair slides out, forcing Liz to step back. “I can make all the plans in the world, but we need bodies, and until I know how many I have to work with, no amount of planning will mean anything. I know exactly how we’re getting them out. I know the best route to take, and what we will do when they are safe. All of that means nothing when an unknown number of people are added to the equation,” he says. Riley picks up her hand, leading her to the couch behind him. He lands with a muffled thud, pulling Liz down next to him. “Now, if it’s not too much to ask, I would like to have one fucking night where we can forget all the shit brewing out there and just be happy.”
CHAPTER 27
The days that follow seem to fly by. Riley refuses to talk about strategy, or any planning for that matter, telling Liz she will find out when the time comes. They spend their time blissfully ignoring the storm brewing outside their home, instead pretending to lead a normal, domestic life. With each hour that passes, Liz can’t help but wonder if this is how incredible the rest of their life could be if they were to leave everything behind.
The thoughts swirling in her head are cut short when one of Riley’s many phones begins to ring. Craning her neck from her perch on the couch, Liz desperately tries to listen to what the person on the other end is saying. The call is short, ending after just a few minutes. Tossing the phone down, Riley spreads his piles of paperwork back out across the table.
