SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

xxxiv. man of mystery

"Oh? What was that just flickered on your face?" He shifts his weight onto one foot, crossing his arms at the chest. I can feel the smirk in his words.

"Nothing. You saw nothing through that ridiculous gas mask."

He grabs me by the shoulder again. "Diverting the conversation? This keeps getting more interesting." He places a fingered glove under my chin. "So, into blond men now? I always thought brunettes were your type."

I shove him away from me and viciously wipe away the stupid fucking tears that are forming around my eyes. My wetsuit feels like it's suffocating me, digging into my skin. The red lights from the slot machines are hurting my eyes. My hair is a tangled mess from my sweat and I just want to disappear. 

I feel like a prey being stalked by a predator; he seems to know what I'll say, what I'll do, before I know it myself.

"Just tell me what it is you think I know and then let me go back." The words sound stupid coming out of my lips. 

Of course it won't be that easy. When is it ever?

"Don't be naive, darling. Besides, things just got a little interesting." He checks his wristwatch slowly, like he knows the impatience is eating me alive, and is revelling in the fact that he has my full attention. He shrugs and cracks his knuckles. "I got some time to spare."

My hands are in my hair in desperation. "Time for what?"

"You know most new relationships end after a month or two? Something about lack of trust," he says slowly, like he's savouring every word. "Why don't I do you a favour and reveal the intentions of your blond prince charming back there?"

He walks around me and grabs my shoulders from the back. I struggle to get him off me but his knife is quickly back at my throat. "I'm outnumbered six to one, and yet..." he starts, and then he inhales sharply, sucking in air through his lips. "He didn't even come back for you..." he whispers, his voice full of mock-hurt, and I stare ahead, blinking away the hot dampness in my eyes.

I bite my lip, trying to ignite some courage within myself. "Do you—Do you seriously have nothing better to do right now than—"

"Hush, sweetheart. Don't waste your breath. You might need it in a few minutes." He steers me closer to the exit of the casino, close to where the entrance of the comm room lies. "You find a way to get him back out here. Alone. Just the two of you, like the lovebirds you are."

Panic grips at my throat at the thought of endangering Leon. "He is just someone I'm working with—"

"Uh-huh. Of course," he says sarcastically, and laughs. "Then I'm sure he'll trust the word of a co-worker."

He opens a pocket under his bulletproof vest and reveals a heavy grenade. I take a step back from it. The right placement of that thing is enough to sink this ship.

"No need to look so scared," he says with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you as much as I trust these oozing sacks of flesh walking around the ship," I spit at him.

He chuckles. "I almost killed you with one of these," he says, placing the grenade back in his pocket and patting it. "That was my mistake."

I feel as if though his words have suspended time. "You blew up Tripp's office?"

He places both his hands behind his back, clasping them. "Guilty as charged."

"What the fuck did that accomplish?"

He tut-tut-tuts at me like I'm a child. "All will be revealed. Just go get your pretty boy and we'll discuss it."

"I'm not getting Leon—"