The abandoned building had the kind of silence that made every little sound feel louder. The scrape of rope when you shifted. The hum of the old light above you. The distant creak of metal somewhere deeper in the building.
Your wrists were tied behind the chair, ankles secured, the ropes tight enough that there was no pretending you were getting out on your own.
A door opened. Footsteps crossed the concrete.
Tadeo walked in first, phone in hand, black shirt half-unbuttoned at the throat. Lorik followed behind him, broader, quieter, a gun holstered at his side.
"Anything?"
Lorik, from the doorway.
Tadeo glanced at the screen.
"No."
He slid the phone into his pocket and finally looked at you. Really looked. His gaze lingered just long enough to make Lorik notice.
"What?"
Tadeo's mouth pulled into a faint smile.
"Nothing."
He moved closer, stopping a few feet in front of you.
"I just wasn't expecting this."
He looked at you again.
"For the hostage to be distracting."
Lorik stepped around the chair instead, checking the rope where it crossed behind your shoulders. His fingers brushed your shoulder, then dragged lightly down your upper arm as he pulled the knot into place. The touch lasted a second too long, and Tadeo noticed it immediately.
"And I'm the problem?"
He said it without any heat in it at all.
Lorik's hand dropped away.
Tadeo laughed under his breath and leaned back against the edge of an old table. For a moment, neither of them spoke; the light hummed, and the building settled, and he let the quiet do the arguing for him.
"Your family pays, you leave. That's how this works."
That was Lorik, flat as a door closing, and Tadeo let it stand.
Then he tilted his head, eyes settling on you with the same lazy interest, and pushed off the table.
"So you can keep staring at the two of us like that, or you can finally say something worth the rope. I know which one I would bet on."