She doesn't respond.
I gesture to a chair in the corner of the room. "Sit."
"No."
I step toward her again, and she shifts.
"Sit down, Athena," I say in a demanding tone.
She moves to the chair, perching on its edge like she might bolt at any moment.
I retrieve rope from a drawer and approach her. Her eyes widen.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"You tied me up," I say, kneeling to secure her ankles to the chair legs. "Now I return the favor."
The rope is thick and won't cut into her skin if she struggles. Not that I expect her to appreciate the consideration, but it's more than she did for me.
I take her wrists and bind them behind her back.
She struggles. I ignore it.
"You're really going to tie me up? Original," she sneers, but her voice wavers. "What's next? Going to torture me? Ask for launch codes?"
"No," I stop and look at her. "But do you have any?" I say and laugh.
I finish tying her up, trying to ignore how her skin is soft beneath my fingertips. I keep it loose so she can wiggle.
"Comfortable?" I ask.
"Fuck you," she says, and tries to move her legs to kick me. "You sick asshole, probably getting off on this."
I lean down to her level and I hook my fingers between her breasts, checking to make sure the rope is secure. "A little."
She spits at me, the saliva landing on my cheek. I don't react, just wipe it away slowly.
"You killed my father," she hisses. "You deserved to be caught."
I stand, retrieve the knife and tuck the gun behind my back. Her outburst dies when I crouch in front of her, blade in hand again.
She freezes.
I bring the tip to her throat and just let it rest there.
"See, this is why I had to tie you up," I say softly as I hold her gaze. "You don't know when to stop talking."
She stares at me, motionless, breathing heavily. I notice I am too, adrenaline coursing through our veins.
"I'm going to ask you questions," I tell her, letting the knife trail down to rest against her collarbone. "You're going to answer them honestly. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live long enough to walk out that door."
I watch her swallow. "I'm not telling you anything."
I lean closer, until my lips nearly brush her ear. "Yes, you will."
I pull back just enough to see her face, the defiance clashing with uncertainty, those lips slightly parted as she draws breath. For a moment, we're locked in this strange intimacy of predator and prey, neither of us willing to break first.
The knife rests against her skin, cold steel on warm flesh. I could end her with a flick of my wrist. She knows it. I know it.