The rope tying her to the chair around her wrists and ankles is firm and unyielding but not so restrictive as to hurt her, or cut off her circulation. She had expected brutality and a lack of care, but he’d surprised her. This was a good sign, small as it may be, and she hoped he might continue to do so as it would increase the odds of her leaving this situation alive and unharmed. The building he’d taken her to looked like an abandoned warehouse, and she’d been firmly pulled through a maze of small back rooms and narrow hallways before they ended up in this small room, lit by one bright lamp, leaving the corners of the room in shadow. The light was centered over her chair, and she felt its heat rather keenly in the otherwise cold building.
He was near the door now, paying attention to the phone in his hands. Those hands were strong, she knew. She’d fought him the entire way, tried to get away but never had his grip slipped. He hadn’t hurt her either, despite her attempts to hurt him. He sported a short welt near his right eye, where she’d gotten lucky enough to scratch him on one attempt. He hadn’t punished her for that in any way, merely secured her hands and kept going. A silent sigh escaped him and he put his phone down and looked up at her.