Old Scars and a Promise Made
He wasnât buying it or letting it go, and her heart just kept pounding. She honestly didnât have the blood volume to keep this up for long, although she was no long in a huge danger zone in general. She had been ordered to avoid anything that would get her heart rate too high still, though, and she supposed that this counted. Too much of this would make her light-headed and dizzy.
But she couldnât tell him. If she did, then that just increased the danger. She lived everyday making sure that her back was covered up, that no hint of the tattoo showed, knowing that for every person that saw it that could be another person that put her life in danger for information that she wouldnât allow them to have. And she trusted him, she did! He was one of the most trustworthy people that she knew.
It wasnât lost on her how he used her name, putting this on the more personal level that, truthfully, it belong on. That was a personal moment, and it was a personal secret. Only Roy, Hughes, Rebecca and Madame Christmas had ever known about it. Roy for study, and Hughes, Rebecca and Madame Christmas out of necessity at various times. She rated Jean in the same bracket as them for trustworthiness, but that didnât mean that she wanted to tell him. It was a deeply personal secret, after all.
But would he let it go? Or would he keep pushing to find out? Maybe not all at once, but over time. He was persistent when felt like something was hurting the people he cared about. And there was no doubt that this was something that hurt Riza deeply.
She sighed. âItâs⊠itâs not simple,â she finally said. âItâs important and itâs not simple and itâs something that only four others have known about. Five, if you count my father.â She ran a hand through her hair. âJeanâŠâ she hesitated. ââŠItâs so important that if the wrong people found out it could mean my freedomâor my life. It⊠itâs already cost the lives of so many others. I canâtâI wonâtâmake anyone else bear that burden with me.â She looked at him with a pleading expression. âPlease, Jean, can you understand that? Itâs complicated.â
There were hints of that old terror floating in the shadows of her dark eyes and he could hear in her voice that it was as big of a weight as she made it sound like. Honestly, that was the last thing he doubted⊠but there was still doubt in him about a lot of things. It was mostly personal though.
Sighing heavily, Jean let his eyes close. He knew what damage he could do pressing things too much, not just to her physical health, but to their friendship, but this wouldnât leave him alone. With his eyes closed he remembered seeing her that day, the terror on her face, the way she had pleaded with him⊠it tore him up far more deeply than heâd like to admit. He needed to know why she had made him promise not to let anyone see her back, why she was so concerned that her father would get her. Wasnât he dead? What threat could he be now? What had he done to her to have her panic that badly?
Thatâs when his mind started putting together pieces⊠It had to do with her father⊠and then the only other people that knew⊠hadnât the Chief learned his alchemy from her father? And of course since the Madam was the one that raised Roy and Hughes had been Royâs best friend⊠and Rebecca was Rizaâs⊠Running a hand back through his hair, it was very clear Jean was trying to piece all together with just the bits sheâd given him already. There was still something important he seemed to be missing though⊠what did all of this have to do with her back?
âI get itâs complicated,â he sighed, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt. âButâŠâ He had told himself that he could swallow it down, wouldnât push for her sake, but the more he tossed the details he did know through his mind, the more he was finding it difficult to do that. He wanted her to trust him with this, trust him with her life, because it was very clear to him that whatever it was it really was a matter of her life. Jean just didnât know if he had it in him to ask that of her, no matter how much he wanted to. Plus there was the matter of his own belief that she already did trust him that much and this⊠this was shaking that.
Pressing his eyes more tightly closed, his hands curled and clutched the blanket over him. He was trying so hard to keep everything from bubbling up, she didnât deserve to have him explode at her but it was clear it was torturing him more than heâd thought it was going to. Maybe it was because now that he was stuck in this bed again, even if it was only temporary now, and there was nothing else for his mind to focus on, heâd finally let it slip in and grow. There was nothing to distract him from it anymore, especially now that she was around him againâŠ
