Tiger put his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in so he was almost nose-to-nose with Dylan. “I’m sure you have somewhere you store valuables. A guy like you always does. Make it easy on yourself and tell us.”
“No,” Dylan whispered. “Get out of here before I scream for help.”
“Figured you might say that. You fags are good at screaming. Too bad you won’t be able to.” He shoved a gag into Dylan’s mouth. “Now, as I was saying, where do you keep the good stuff? Nod if you’re willing to do this the easy way and tell me.” When Dylan didn’t, Tiger took a knife from his pocket, flipping it open. “Want to nod, now?”
Dylan’s gaze locked on the knife. He was vaguely aware the other man was beginning to put the various small electronics into a pile by the sofa.
“He’s got some nice stuff,” the man said to Tiger.