Isolde Bette Rickards was afraid. And somehow, she knew that was far worst than being weak. Her mindset had been centered solely on the fact that to fear was to be weak, so hastily, she tried to push what was making her so afraid to the back of her head and take back her steeled facade. Her spine straightened into a stiff board, her eyes set forward.
It appeared so that she banished it just in time. She had been so holed up in becoming the fearless monster she made herself out to be that she failed to notice that Billy Russo moved with fast strides among the file of new recruits, and somehow ended up in front of her. His dark, near-onyx eyes stared into her cold gray pair, narrowing ever-so-slightly with a small sneer, as if searching for any ounce of emotion. He laid off of her once he was unable to find one that he could use to his advantage, huffing through his nose and moved past to the next unfortunate victim. This man reminded her of her cruel drill sergeant, who would point out even the smallest crease on the uniform and use that as an excuse to punish a private.
She spoke in her mind too soon. Russo circled behind her, his voice sending shivers down her back as he whispers, "Be brave, Private Rickards."
The shivers that resulted after that was not the good kind. If anything, it was something made out of intimidation.
Isolde did not respond out of fear that she might say something she wouldn't entirely mean. Billy Russo was dangerous, even more so as an enemy. He was shaded so darkly, that she thought he was divided, two sides of the same coin. She only hoped to god he didn't know. Rawlins had to have her back, after all, she served excellently under his service and fell right beside the category of Billy Russo.
Dangerous, like sharpened knives. They were better off as weapons for Rawlins to use to his liking. She knew too much and he knew that. Billy knew too much and he loved that. They were tied with no chance of escape, if he ever went down, they were sure to fall with him. After all, Rawlins had already tainted them with such toxicity it was impossible to wash off.
When Billy dismissed the rest of them to begin training the next day, it was no surprise that he would call over to her to stay behind. She hoped to god it wasn't her death awaiting for her when he leads her to his office for a more private conversation.
Instinct causes her to look around in his office and easily calculate her movements, which was something he observed. He was already staring at her with a hint of a smirk, recognizing her habit. He wouldn't admit it out loud but it was something that stuck along with him, too.
"Ms. Rickards," Her name easily rolled off of his tongue as he gestures a hand to the couch placed vertical to his desk. "Have a seat."
Much to her surprise, Billy situates himself on the second couch in front of her. He must've seen her surprise, but didn't bother to comment on it. "I've received your military records from your former COs."
Straight to the point, just like she expected. She mentally scolds herself for thinking he was short of it. He reached over, snatching a partially thick folder from his desk, and began to flip through it. "Outstanding performance, and a fiery temper. You were one of their best. Highly-trained sniper, ranked first in hand-to-hand, and a deadly accuracy, even with knives. So why'd you leave?"
"I wasn't going to keep that life until I die of old age," Isolde quipped. "With all due respect, I didn't want to risk being stuck in the battlefield. I wanted to see what else I could do with my life."
"So you enlisted to make something of yourself," Billy stated, his gaze on her firm, before it flickers back down to the file. "Did you leave because of what happened in Kabul?"
"Yes." Isolde replied after a long pause.
"May I ask what exactly happened?"
"It's all written in the report," Isolde snapped defensively.
Billy didn't look offended at that. In fact, he looked calm. His eyes didn't betray him. "I expected that. However, everything that's written here, I don't believe that's all that happened. I want my employees to be able to trust me, and I them. We could sit however long here until you tell me, you could tell me so this conversation is over and done with, or you can choose not to tell me now and stay behind after each session until you finally tell me. It's your choice, after all." Billy told her expectantly.
However, the latter choice appealed to her more. She did what a any trained woman would do and followed her instinct, leveling his gaze. "I think I'd like the third option."
His eyebrows lifted, as if his expectations had been met. Then his lips quirk up in smile, and stood. Isolde recognized this and mimicked his action.
"Same time for tomorrow then?"
"Yeah. I hope you don't mind, it might take long for me to trust you enough to say," Though Isolde was void of any guilt from denying him of the truth.
He shot her an understanding look. "I used to have trust issues, and sometimes I still do. I won't judge you for that."