Tied And Tested

The first thing Evie woke up to was a splitting headache, her body feeling like it had been through a grinder. Each muscle screamed in protest as if she'd been hit by a freight train. Her neck was especially sore, her head lolling uncomfortably to the side. She held back a groan, rolling her shoulders and trying to crane her neck.

Or at least, she tried to.

Her body didn't move as she expected. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly to the chair she was seated in, the rough rope biting into her skin. A quick, panicked glance around the room made her situation crystal clear.

The space was small and dingy, with peeling walls and a single barred window too high and narrow to climb through, even if she were free. Beyond the bars, there was nothing familiar—just a desolate, lifeless expanse. She couldn't even tell what time of day it was; the weak light filtering in didn't give any clues.

'Where am I? How far from home? How far from Jarad?'

She shifted experimentally, testing the strength of her bindings. Relief coursed through her when her fingers brushed against the small data chip still tucked into the hidden pocket of her jacket. At least they hadn't found it.

Evie bit her lip, trying to suppress her rising fear. The ropes were too tight; no amount of wriggling would free her. She sucked in a steadying breath.

"Okay, think, Evie," she muttered under her breath. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail—the worn table to her side, the cracked concrete floor, the faint smell of mildew. There was nothing of use. Nothing she could grab or manipulate.

She was trapped.

The sudden creak of the door snapped her attention forward. Her heart slammed against her ribcage as heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the room. A tall figure entered, cloaked in black from head to toe. His face was obscured by a sleek mask, the only visible features being his cold, piercing eyes.

Evie's stomach clenched, but she forced her expression into a glare, masking her fear. She knew better than to show weakness.

The figure stopped a few feet from her, his head tilting slightly as if studying her. "Most people in your position," he began, his voice smooth yet dripping with malice, "would be screaming their heads off by now. Crying. Begging to know where they are, who I am, what's going to happen." He flicked open a Swiss knife, the blade gleaming as he twirled it effortlessly between his fingers.

"But you..." He leaned in close, his masked face mere inches from hers. The blade hovered dangerously near her cheek. "You're a nice change of pace."

Evie clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to flinch. "Screaming won't do me any good," she said evenly. "And I already know why I'm here."

The assassin pulled back slightly, his interest piqued. "Oh? Do tell."

"You want Jarad," she replied, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "The only way to get to him is through me."

He chuckled, low and menacing. "Smart girl. A little too smart for her own good." His gloved hand patted her head roughly, his fingers tangling in her hair for a moment before pulling away.

"One of us has to be," Evie snapped, her tone sharper now. "Because if you were smart, you'd know Jarad's going to destroy you. And anyone else who comes for me."

The room seemed to grow colder. The assassin's laughter stopped abruptly, and his playful demeanor melted into something far more menacing. His grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles whitening.

"Careful," he said softly, his tone like ice. "You're walking a very fine line. Keep running that mouth of yours, and I might just decide I don't need it."

Evie's throat tightened, but she held her ground. "You won't kill me," she said, forcing confidence into her words. "You need me alive if you want to lure Jarad."

The assassin tilted his head, considering her. Then, in a blink, he struck. The blade nicked her cheek, a sharp sting followed by the warm trickle of blood. He held up the knife, letting a single crimson droplet slide down its edge.

"You're right. I need you alive," he murmured, his voice smooth and cold. "But I don't need you whole."

Evie's stomach churned, but she refused to look away.

The assassin straightened, his tone turning casual. "And even if you were gone, there's always your parents."

Her heart stopped.

"No," she whispered, her voice trembling.

The assassin smirked behind his mask, clearly enjoying the fear in her eyes. "Oh, yes. But don't worry. As long as Jarad plays along, they'll be fine."

Suddenly, he shoved her chair backward, the legs tipping dangerously close to the floor before he caught it. His face was inches from hers, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper.

"You're fun to tease," he said with a chuckle, setting the chair upright. He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Evie sat frozen for a moment, her heart pounding in her ears. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She needed to escape. Now.

Her gaze landed on the table. There, gleaming faintly in the dim light, was the Swiss knife.

Idiot forgot it.

She shifted her chair closer, her fingers straining until she grasped the handle. Slowly, carefully, she sawed through the ropes binding her wrists. Once her hands were free, it didn't take long to cut her ankles loose.

She stood, rubbing her sore wrists, and crept to the door. Cracking it open, she peeked into the dim hallway. Empty.

Evie's heart pounded as she stepped out, her eyes darting left and right. Her fingers brushed the exit handle, her breath catching in anticipation.

But just as she began to push it open—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice froze her in place. Slowly, she turned to see the assassin standing behind her, holding up something small and familiar.

Her father's watch.

"No," she breathed, her chest tightening.

The assassin's grin was visible beneath the mask now, cruel and triumphant. "Why don't you come back inside?" he said smoothly. "We've got a little family reunion to plan."