The first thing I saw when I woke up were my knees squeezed together by a rope. My head dangled forward, and my mouth felt like sandpaper. I tried to move, only to feel more ropes biting into my wrists, tied snugly behind the chair. My gaze rose slowly, as if my head weighed a ton, until I locked eyes with my old buddy, Zachary Craig. He'd been chasing me for months, never quite managing to catch me.
Until now, that is.
The bastard leaned in, candlelight catching his annoyingly sharp cheekbones as he grinned like he'd won a prize. "Morning, sunshine," he drawled, smugness dripping from his voice. "Slept well?"
I snorted, though it came out more like a wheeze thanks to my parched throat. "Oh, Zach, look at you! You grew some balls and caught a woman! Took you long enough!"
His grin twitched, and for a moment, I thought he might actually laugh. Instead, he leaned back against the rickety wooden desk behind him. It creaked, as if it, too, wanted to complain about how insufferable he was.
"Funny. You're in no position to crack jokes, Scarlett," he said, tapping a finger against the hilt of the dagger at his hip.
"Oh, someone's been promoted. That dagger looks pretty upscale for you," I replied, shifting my wrists against the ropes. They were tight, but not so tight I couldn't wiggle a little. Give me a few hours of chatter, and I'd have them loose. "So, what's changed since last time? Do you still drink that imported shit? I forgot the name but I remember that you always made me buy it!"
He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by my terrible attempt at teasing. "Scarlett, sweetheart," he began, his tone smooth as honey and just as sticky. "You don't seem to understand the situation here. Tied up, utterly defenseless, stuck in my office. You're entirely at my mercy."
Then he leaned in closer, his grin sharpening into something far more deliberate, like he was savoring his own little villain monologue. "And just so you know," he murmured, his voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper, "I made sure no one else got near you. You're mine to play with."
I narrowed my eyes, already gearing up to spit some choice words--or maybe just spit--at him, but he caught my chin in his hand, firm but not rough. "It wasn't easy keeping the boys in line, you know," he added with a sly smirk, "considering who you are."
Smug bastard.
I raised an eyebrow and let out a snort. "Ah, I see how it is. Bet you've been itching to have me in this position, huh? Must feel nice, considering I'm usually the one stomping on you." I winked, leaning forward as far as the ropes would let me. This way my boobs perked up and looked more appealing too, just to taunt him a little. "So, what's the plan here, Zach? Rock, paper, scissors to decide my fate? Let's untie my hands and have some fun, hmm?"
He rose from his chair, moving in a slow circle around me, his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze swept over me like I was some prized trophy. And, to be fair, I probably was. A stubborn thief slipping through his fingers since the end of winter, always a step ahead, always just out of reach. Not just any thief, either--one who used to share drinks and schemes with him before he traded our world for shiny badges and rulebooks.
That history surely made the chase all the sweeter. A little game of cat and mouse--except the mouse always won. Always.
Well, until today, apparently.
I frowned, trying to piece it together. What the hell had happened? My last escapade was a hazy mess--one minute, I was enjoying a drink at some dingy bar, and the next? Well, here I was. Tied up like a gift, sitting in his office. I must've let the booze hit harder than I planned, but even tipsy me hadn't expected Zack of all people to actually track me down.
He moved behind me. His hands hung loose at his sides, but every nerve in my body screamed that he was about to grab me. Maybe my throat. Or my boobs. I was wearing a snug tank top, cut just low enough to hold a gaze a little too long, but not low enough to invite scandal--after all, I was the picture of propriety. A proper lady, through and through. From where Zack stood, he had the perfect view of my breasts--not that I could do a thing about it with my hands tied. He surely was enjoying himself though.
I didn't think he liked me--no, scratch that, I was sure he hated me--but I wasn't exactly ready to go out like this. My muscles tensed, and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut as the sound of a blade sliding free from its sheath.
A small, involuntary whimper escaped my lips.
In a flash, I felt the cold steel just under my chin. Not touching my throat, but close enough to send my heart racing. My eyes snapped open, wide with panic, only to see him grinning down at me, barely holding back a laugh.
"Oh god," he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. "You should've heard yourself, scared little girl... For a moment I thought you'd beg for forgiveness."
Not funny. I was done with the games. I leaned back in the chair, pushing myself off the ground with my feet, intending to slam the back legs of the chair down hard, right on his feet, hoping to catch him off guard and knock him over. But of course, he was stronger than I expected. Damn his muscles. I'd never really noticed them before, but now, with his arm wrapped around my chest, I couldn't budge. His forearm was right under my tits, lifting them playfully as if he was having fun. I wiggled my legs in the air, feeling like a little girl doing so, but still--he almost lifted the chair with me on it, of course I panicked. Once he pushed it back in place, I bent forward, and for some reason I felt very hot in between my legs. For some reason I felt he didn't want to hurt me but to tease me. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a calming breath.
Before I could try again, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear and sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "I... I miss you, Scarlett," he murmured, his voice heavy with something like nostalgia. "We used to be partners, remember?"
The memory hit me like a slap--back when we were both partners, sneaking through shadows, splitting the spoils, and celebrating with too much booze after a successful heist. Those nights of camaraderie, reckless laughter, and the occasional stolen kiss... until he'd abandoned it all. Abandoned me. All because he got a chance to play the hero, to wipe his slate clean. He chose redemption over us, traded loyalty for personal gain.
"And now look at us," he continued, snapping me out of the spiral of memories. "You're still out there, playing your little games. And me?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I traded in the shadows for a badge. Life's funny like that, isn't it?"
