Page 24 of Dark Knight

"That's a weird thing to ask," Hudson grunted, seeming offended by the question as he crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back.

"Are you feeling better?" Dylan asked. "You fainted."

"Yeah, I think I feel better. My head's still a little fuzzy." The pain that I'd been trying to ignore throbbed in response to me acknowledging it.

"We did try to catch you, but you gave your head a pretty good knock on the tile floor in the kitchen."

"That would explain the throbbing pain," I groaned as Dylan helped me sit up.

He offered me a glass of water along with two small pills that had a familiar brand name printed on them for pain relief.

"Is this your office?" I asked, looking around. I'd already noted the large oak desk and the shelves behind it that were filled with books, binders, and all kinds of businessy things that I probably wouldn't understand. It all looked very professional.

"Yeah. This was the closest place with enough space to lay you down." Dylan’s tone was cooler than it was the last time we talked. His deep brown eyes were more than a little intense as his gaze bored into my own. "I need you to tell me how you know Sampson."

My instinct was to tell him whatever he wanted to know, but even though my head was throbbing, I knew that these two were businessmen first and foremost. If they wanted something, that meant it had some kind of value. After a long pause, during which neither of them seemed to move even a fraction of an inch, I said, "I'll tell you after you've let me go to Welhurst to pick up a few things."

Dylan mimicked Hudson and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood, taking a step back from the couch I was on.

"You really think you're in a position to negotiate?" Hudson asked, his tone completely void of emotion, which was somehow scarier than him being angry.

"You can't make me tell you anything," I countered, unwilling to back down without a fight. I quickly took the pain meds that they had given me, hoping they would kick in soon and give me some clarity.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a way." Hudson's words were cold and something in his gaze made me want to shiver. I didn't think he would actually hurt me. Maybe that was naive of me, but I felt safe with the two of them. Safer than I had since I left the cult, and I certainly wasn’t when I was in the cult.

"We barely know each other. Why should I tell you something personal like that?"

"How do you expect us to get to know one another if you're not willing to share?" Dylan countered, giving me a small smile.

I knew he was trying to soften for me, trying to show me the man he was last night when he'd comforted me. I just couldn't quite get myself to tell him anything. Not when I had no guarantee that I'd get my things back.

"If you take me to Welhurst to get my things, then I'll tell you. Or you can torture me, but I’m as stubborn as they come." It was amusing to me that my stubbornness had only come out after I left the cult. Before then, I hadn't been allowed the luxury of being stubborn. Sometimes it felt like I was making up for the lack of it, and now, when I dug my heels in, there was nothing that could convince me to do something I didn't want to do.

"Fine. We'll take a road trip to Welhurst, just the three of us. We'll get your things." Road trip? Just how far from Welhurst were we? I thought I was still in Ascendance Bay, but maybe I was wrong. "Once you have what you need, we’ll drive back, and on the way, you will tell us how you know Sampson. If you refuse, we’ll leave you on the side of the road and keep your things. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it," I said, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face. "After all, we both get what we want. What's wrong with that?"

Dylan grumbled something under his breath, muttering to himself, before he said, "Go and change." He jerked his head to the door before adding, "As long as you're stable enough to do so."

I tentatively pushed up from the couch, standing straight for a second to make sure I had my balance before leaving the room.

Hudson's voice echoed down the hallway as I walked, "I'll make sure she gets upstairs safely."

I wanted to tell them that I was okay, that I wasn't a baby and didn't need a babysitter for that matter. At the same time, it felt like he was showing me he cared somehow. Whether he cared about me as a person or as a product, I wasn't sure yet. I didn't acknowledge Hudson, even though he loomed over me like an evil spirit.

He dogged my steps as I climbed the stairs, following me down the hallway to the doorway of my room. When I opened it and stepped inside, I expected to be able to close it. When I tried to swing it shut, he was there, stepping inside as well. Before I could even scold him and tell him to get out while I changed, he had me pinned up against the door. Both of my hands were above my head, wrapped by one of his.

"Little girl, I need to make something very clear to you," he growled, a brutality to his tone that had never been there before. "Just because you're cute does not mean that I won’t do my job. Just because Dylan is curious about you does not mean that I won’t do my job. Do you remember what my job is?" He had been leaning closer and closer to me the entire time he talked, until he was practically nose to nose with me.

"You're an enforcer," I whispered.

"Good girl, and what do enforcers do?"

"They make sure that everything gets done that's supposed to." The truth was, I wasn't really sure. I knew he said that he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. But other than that, I had no clue what his job actually entailed.

"You are a pretty little thing, and I would love to have you tied up in my room, but if I need to spill your blood to get you to talk, I will. The things that I know how to do to the human body are not pleasant, and you will not enjoy them. The next time we ask you to tell us something, do not try to make a deal out of it. Tell us, or else that pretty little face of yours might end up scarred. And that would be the least of your worries."

I knew I was supposed to be scared. He was threatening me, that much was very clear, and yet my body was having a completely different reaction. "Hudson," I whispered his name, and his nostrils flared. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

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