Illiana had decided to trust Riddick for the time being- but only insofar as she had to. If he could take care of the bastard that attacked her, and it saved her the trouble of getting her hands dirty, why not? They had talked for about ten minutes that day, running over the basics.
"Stand up" he commanded.
"Fuck you" she muttered. He growled.
"I just want to see the stitches" he muttered. Without a word Illiana stood and lifted up her shirt. The twelve inch gash snaked its way along her abdomen horizontally, mended with tiny and precise stitches.
"Shit" Riddick swore darkly.
"Yeah, and it hurts like a bitch, too." Illiana said with out a trace of emotion and sat down. Riddick turned on his heel and headed for her cell door.
"Be careful. Don't stay in here alone if you can help it"
"Screw that" she waved her hand, "I want a chance to kill the bastard that did this to me"
"What if he brings friends this time?" Riddick mused, "Just don't do anything stupid"
"So why don't you just stay and babysit me if you're so worried?" she tossed sarcasticly.
"Is that an invitation?" he asked, his eyes snaking over her lithe body. She hated the way he looked at her, making her feel like her only worth was as some man's bitch. Fuck that.
"Screw you Riddick, now get out of my cell" she growled, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"You know you'd like it"
"You know I'd rather die. Literally. Now OUT!" she almost screamed the last part. He shrugged and left the cell, a guard appearing out of nowhere to escort him to his cell.
