No One Lives

Izzie didn’t know how long she waited for him. Would he bring anyone? Was he simply testing her resolve to hold onto and hurt someone? Would he even bring anyone back? Izzie wished she could fool herself into thinking that way, but hearing the door open brought a lump to her stomach. She didn’t want to turn and see them, see the person she’d end up having to hurt to prove herself to him.

When she did, her heart sank down into her stomach. She knew the old gentleman, not as much as she’d like. He brought her someone she would see on her way to and from her shop. Even if he survived, he wouldn’t be allowed to leave. He’d tell people about where she was and the man holding her captive wouldn’t let it happen.

“He’s going to die from a heart attack or cancer, you can’t expect me to harm him.” Maybe he’d see reason, but she sucked in a deep breath. “Should I spook him?”

@no-one-lives​

Driver watched her reaction to his chosen prey with intense curiosity. Izzie had been the one to suggest that she was willing to do anything to have Lucky there with her. He wondered if perhaps she was regretting that suggestion now. Or was she contemplating what it might be like to embrace it? He hoped it was the latter but he knew it might take some time. Maybe not even this one would do it. Nonetheless, he was deeply curious as to what would come next. 

“Not harm,” he corrected gently, “kill.” Driver could sense the fear rising up in the man over the revelation. Kidnapping was never pleasant but somehow they always held out hope it would all end with their life intact. He had no intention of keeping up that illusion any longer. The man wouldn’t leave the cell alive. Whether his end would come by Izzie’s hand or his remained to be seen. 

Was she sure?  She could feign confidence, that was something she had grown to be skilled at, and she supposed in some ways, she had him to thank for that, though she would never thank him for anything.  He didn’t deserve that.  There was only one place he deserved to be and that was in the ground where he couldn’t get to anybody else, where he could never reach her again.  And in the end, that was what mattered, right?  She wanted him dead, but she wouldn’t have cared if he just walked out of her life either.  She would have been grateful.

Or maybe she would have spent time thinking about his absence and what that did or didn’t mean.  

“Then tell me … tell me exactly what it is you wanted for me.  Tell me what you wanted for me so badly that you thought you had to CUT me.  Over and over and over,” she hissed, having unconsciously taken a step closer as the heat in her words rose and rose.  "That you had to murder my friends, that you had to lock me in the dark.  And play– play your fucking mind games.“

Driver gazed down at her adoringly as she arced up. The blaze of fiery fury was enthralling to him. He was absolutely confident in himself that it wasn’t at all directed at him but rather at her conflicted emotions. Caught between how she thought she should feel and how she did feel. There was a time he understood those feelings before he learned to just give in to them. There was no use in fighting those deep primal needs and reactions. The anger was mere frustration at her inner conflict. He could never fault her for that. Not his Emma. 

Her small step closer seemed to ignite the energy between them even more. A shiver of excitement running up his spine. They hadn’t been this close in some time. And at her choice nonetheless. Even if she was trying to fight it, her subconscious brought her closer to him. 

     “Wait,” His voice reached her ears causing her to slow her stumbling steps. Bright blue eyes met his dark chocolate hues, she was listening but she was also closely observing him. Trying to peek into his soul as one would say, there was something there, something that felt familiar yet it didn’t scare her, she didn’t feel like she was in any immediate danger. His words cause her to chuckle before lightly shaking her head, “It’s okay! I’ve been in much worse situations. Stumbling home is a cakewalk.” She brings up both hands and performs a finger guns gesture to him with a playful wink. Yes, she was definitely intoxicated. Everyone who was close to Ophelia knew she wasn’t one for talking, especially to strangers. You just couldn’t trust them, not with how her past soiled her very name. Both hands come up to run her fingers through her hair before finally shrugging, “I meeeean, you can walk with me but I promise you, I’m fine.” She then turns to continue walking but her stops came to a sudden pause as a thought crossed her mind making her brows furrow. Turning back around to face him, she extends her right hand, “Ophelia.”