Griffin's alive. Thought one. He was alive!

This guy's trouble. Thought two. Whoever this bloke was, he meant trouble; for Griffin and possibly for me.

I need to protect Griffin. Thought three. If Griffin was alive, and this guy was out to hurt him, then I had to protect him, in whatever way I could.

So I said, "What about him?" He chuckled and said, "Whatever you can tell me about him. I'm prepared to offer a sizeable sum for any information you can give me."

I shrugged. "I mean, he was my friend growing up until he and his parents got blown up in a freak accident. I don't really remember much of him; I was only five when it happened."

He stared at me for a long time. I returned his stare. My lie was easy enough to carry out; I was almost beginning to believe it myself. The man seemed to be making calculations as he looked at me. I felt exposed and vulnerable. I didn't like it.

"Anything else you need to know?" I prodded rudely. He stared at me for another few seconds, and then smiled and said, "I think I found out all I need to know. Thank you. Have a nice day." He glanced once more at my drawing, then stood up and walked out.

I let out a breath I wasn't aware I had been holding. I looked around me. Ollie and the attractive male – American, maybe? – were busy getting… acquainted with each other. Horace was still tending the bar; he glanced over at me and winked. I felt a small flood of relief; he had been watching the whole time. I resumed my math/Griffin drawing.

About an hour later, I saw Ollie and American Adonis leave the pub, laughing quietly to themselves. I sighed. It was going to be one of those nights, then. Oh well. I'd hear all about it come Monday. I had finished most of my studying, so I collected my bag, said goodbye to Horace and walked out the door. The rain was still falling; I welcomed it by lifting my face to catch the raindrops. The pub was stifling, and the cool rain felt good.

I walked down the sidewalk, listening to some heavy metal as I passed young couples and homeless drunks. I knew the way by heart, so I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings. Therefore it was a surprise when someone grabbed me from behind. I twisted around, trying to defend myself and get a look at the person who was daring to assault me. All I saw was a leather jacket and stormy blue eyes. My attacker pushed a rank-smelling cloth over my nose and mouth. That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up with my mouth covered with a piece of duct tape and duct taped to a chair. Whoever kidnapped me sure had a liking for the stuff.

I looked around me. I was in a rather dark room. There were pictures of the man who had visited me last night – was it last night? How long had it been? – plastered all over the walls. The artist in me shuddered; they were awful drawings; the subject was barely recognizable. I was facing a couch which was in front of a huge flat screen TV. And on the ratty old couch was the bastard who kidnapped me.

I screamed in rage. Unfortunately, the duct tape sort of ruined the effect. It sounded more demure than I would have wished. The guy just chuckled and continued playing his stupid video game.

I screamed even louder. Who was this? And what did he want with me? And why did he kidnap me? I kept voicing my muffled outrage until my throat became sore. The guy never even looked away from his video game. Bastard.

I finally stopped and consoled myself with glaring daggers at him. I would have attempted to walk my chair over there, but my legs were duct taped too. I waited for several minutes before hatching one of my stupider plans.

I threw my weight to one side, making the chair fall over. I thought that might tempt him to come over and talk to me. That proved how stupid I really was. He paused his game, threw his head back and laughed for five minutes straight.

"Nice try, love." That's all he said. Then he went back to his game.

I was infuriated and humiliated. I was just lying there on the floor, gagged and duct taped to a chair. Take me back to community college any day. And this asshole wasn't even acknowledging my presence any more.

I decided to try the tears trick. I had always been able to fake tears, a precious skill I had used many times in the past. I decided it was probably the best time to utilize it now. It took a few minutes, but soon the tears started dripping from my eyes and onto the concrete floor.

My kidnapper looked over and saw that I was crying. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and sighed. Then he got up from his stupid couch and came over to me.

He sat my chair up, but instead of glaring at him I just looked at my knees and continued sniffling and crying. He sighed again.

"Crocodile tears aren't going to do you any good, love. You're still stuck here, and you'll remain stuck here until you tell me what you know."

I looked up at him pointedly. His blue eyes stared into my green ones. "Okay, I'll take it off if you promise not to scream. Not that screaming would do you any good anyways; I just hate loud noises. So if you'll keep it down, eh?"

He pulled the duct tape off my mouth slowly so as not to take the majority of skin along with it. I worked my jaw, loosening the cramped muscles whilst I thought of different ways to tell him off.

"You know, I probably wouldn't have tied you down if you hadn't insisted on fighting me when I tried to take you with me."

That did it. I took a deep breath and started to tell him off. "If I hadn't insisted on fighting? Seriously? A stranger takes hold of me from behind, without warning and without explaining as to why, and you expect me to go along with them as if everything's hunky dory? What kind of idiot do you think I am? Of course I fought! And why do you have me here anyways? What do you want from me? I never did anything to you; I don't even know anything! I'm a community college student studying Spanish, for Pete's sake! What makes you think I know anything? And I'll have you know that I – "

He put the duct tape back over my mouth. He put his hands on his knees so that he was eye-to-eye with me. I glared at him. He smirked. "What did I tell you about loud noises? You're worse than a drowning cat. Now claws in, kitten, and maybe if you're a good girl I'll take off the duct tape."

I stopped talking and waited. He smirked and said, "Ready to tell me what you know?"

I nodded, and kept silent. He took the duct tape off again, much more roughly this time. "Now. Tell me what you know about Roland."

"Who's Roland?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes. "The black man with the white hair. The Paladin. What do you know about him? What did he tell you?"

I glared at him. "I don't know anything about him, except that he sat down in my booth, disturbed my peace and quiet, and brought back painful memories that I had successfully buried until then. He didn't tell me anything, and what's a Paladin?"

He looked at me for a long moment. "You're sure he didn't tell you anything?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I'm not stupid. Of course he didn't tell me anything, and if he did, believe me, I would have told you, because at the moment you're the only one who can get me out of this damned duct tape. Now what's a Paladin and get me out of this damned duct tape, please."

He chuckled, and said, "I believe you." Then he put the duct tape back over my mouth again.

My eyes widened in rage. I started screaming muffled obscenities at him again. He chuckled and went back to his video game, which made me scream louder.

A few hours later, and my throat was so dry it could have been used for sandpaper. I was glaring at him again. He hadn't even looked in my direction once, let alone get off that damned couch of his. My eyes were starting to close of their own accord. Screaming one's lungs out got tiring after a while.

I must have dozed off for a few hours because when I finally woke up the Blue Eyed Bastard was gone from his beloved couch and the telly was off.

I was cramped and sore from hours in the chair. I looked around me for something to get me out of the duct tape. Unfortunately the bastard wasn't stupid; he had placed me far away from any sort of table or other structure with edges. I was stuck.

About half an hour of unsuccessfully trying to hop my way across the floor, the hopelessness struck. I am becoming such an emotional mess, I thought to myself as tears made their way down my face. Well duh, you're kidnapped and alone, and you don't know why and you don't know what's going to happen to you. Of course your emotions are in shreds.

Suddenly he was crouching in front of me, looking into my face. I didn't remember hearing him come in; I must have been preoccupied with bawling my stupid eyes out. I was surprised to see concern in his eyes. Like he actually cared about me, or something.

"Are Kitten's eyes leaking, or are those real tears I see there?" He whispered softly.

I glared at him through tear-stained eyes and mumbled a retort. I was exhausted from sitting in a chair all day, and didn't feel up to the whole screaming thing again. He chuckled at my childishness and undid my gag. I had nothing to say, so I kept quiet.

Then he surprised me by cutting the bonds on my feet and hands. I tried to stand, but my muscles were so cramped I stumbled and fell. He caught me and picked me up.

I tried to fight him, thinking he was going to harm me, but he just held me firm and carried me to the couch. He laid me on it and covered me with a blanket. Then he walked away.

I called after him. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

He looked at me sadly. "Go to sleep, Kitten. We'll talk in the morning."

I nodded. For some reason I trusted him. As I drifted back to sleep, I could have sworn I felt a kiss on my hair. But it must have been my imagination, because when I opened my eyes to see if it was real, there was no one there.