Between the Grapevines

16. Sittata 'Ashar

Riyad seethed, feeling his anger rise with heat that blossomed over his chest and into his neck. "You think just because I'm weaponless I am defenseless?" He asked through clenched teeth. "You carry a coward's definition of defense in your mind, but I can't blame you. The blame is with the cowards who raised you into thinking such a thing."

"Be cautious with your words, boy," he warned.

"Uncover her face."

The man snorted. "Or what?"

"Or our conversation is over."

The soldier's brow perked up in interest at Riyad's response. They both knew that it was only his conversation that the imprisoned boy had to offer so the man hummed, nodding in agreement. "Uncover her head. It's not like she can see our faces anyway," he snorted, tugging the grey mask higher on his nose.

Harakat stumbled as the man tugged the bag from her face, not bothering with any level of care. The girl squinted against the orange lamp before her eyes adjusted to the space she found herself in. When she saw the soldier standing in front of her clearly, her gaze darted past him and to the man sitting on the floor past them, his attention already on her. Her brows knit together in fear and worry when she caught sight of him.

"Now then," the soldier stepped between them, his attention only on Riyad. "Should we sit like civil men and have an intelligent conversation?" He asked, his tone light with humor.

Riyad's instinct was to glare at him but the dark expression melted away when he heard the question, replaced by an amused grin. He chuckled dryly at the comment. "You people genuinely intrigue me," he replied. "No. We can't have a... what'd you call it? An intelligent conversation."

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"Because dogs can only bark."

Just as Riyad's entertainment grew at the statement, the soldier's lack of turned sour on his features. He lifted his foot and Riyad suddenly found his head flung to the other side, his neck cracking painfully at the swift turn. The button of his shoe burned the skin from Riyad's cheekbone. A commotion rose from the corner as Harakat tugged on her rope in complaint. Riyad took a careful breath then groaned with the blossoming ache.

He'd only been in the hospital a few days before.

"You should be careful of what you say, Riyad," the soldier spoke in an unfriendly tone this time, no longer feigning enjoyment in the conversation. "Last time it was the man with you that we took. Now, your wife is the only one here. I shouldn't have to tell you to worry for her."

Riyad spit the metallic taste out. "I'm not worried for her."

"No? Should we make you worry then?"

He ran his tongue over his canines, tasting more metal as he snorted. "I'm not worried because you won't touch her," he turned his head back around to glare up at the man with tired eyes, breathing carefully. "You know better. You know that if you touch her... then you'll really come to learn what it means to be defenseless."

The man laughed. "You can't threaten me when your hands are tied."

"I can threaten you in with my hands tied, my eyes covered, my mouth gagged. I can threaten you without saying a thing. You know how your kind are," Riyad explained. "So protective of the life you have."

"And what? You are not?"

Riyad shook his head and clicked his tongue.

But it did not seem to amuse the soldier. His chest rose, glaring at him with more annoyance at his nonchalance. He lifted his hands to his neck and took a few paced forward, his expression dimmed in thought. "If you don't care for it, then should I take it from you?" He pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it toward Riyad.