THANK YOU for the reviews and advice :D
Sorry for the very late update. My mac broke and I couldn't sign in without it. Anyway I have a shiny new version and can't wait to play! I had this chapter saved as a working progress on here, but I have to wait 12 days for apple to be able to sign in to recover my account for the next chapter, so frustrating! Hope you enjoy.
The apartment was still as Street hovered in the doorway. With the curtains drawn it was dark compared to the bright sun light outside. He half expected her to lunge out of the shadows at him. He couldn't sense anything, but that didn't mean she wasn't waiting to pounce. He told himself that while he'd been twice as long as he had intended it didn't mean she was awake. Maybe, just maybe this one thing would work in his favour.
He was pretty sure the coast was clear as he made the first step inside. He kept his weight low ready for whatever she might send his way, but nothing came. His eyes adjusted slowly and he gave the room a suspicious look over searching for anything that's out of place. He pushed the door closed behind him, keeping his eyes firmly on the room in front of him. He slotted the key into the lock and twisted before returning it to his pocket. That would at least slow her down if she tried for an escape.
He noted the places she could be hiding, behind the sofa was the main one and he approached it silently unwilling to give up his position in the room. If she was in here he wasn't going to make it easy for her. With the quick motions drilled into him through hours and hours of hard work with Hondo he swept the room coming up clear. She wasn't here. The door to the bedroom was still closed, the way he left it. His breath hitched as his hand stopped dead on the smooth cool metal of the door handle. He needed her to trust him and waking up gaged and handcuffed to the bed was the last thing he wanted for her.
He twisted, releasing the mechanism from its hole and the door opened easily. It was brighter in her room, he hadn't thought to close her curtains. He looked at the bed, but still couldn't realised the breath trapped inside him. His heart jolted at the site of her lying there bound and vulnerable. He had done this to her.
Her hands were still raised above her head disappearing between the head board. She had twisted in her sleep, rolling over to her side. She was facing away from him, and his eyes swept over her body from her longer hair tangled over the pillow, down to her feet still heavily wrapped with duck tape. He needed to fix this before she woke. He covered the two steps to her bedside and was crouching over her before he suddenly realising how difficult it would be to remove the duck tap without waking her. Her breathing was long and smooth and he watched her eye lashes, they were still on her cheeks. He had to lean right over her to get a good look at the duck tap across her lips.
And that's when she struck. Crashing her elbow into the side of his head with every bit of strength she had. Her eyes opened and she pushed his stunned body off her. Street fell to the floor. She tore the tape from her lips and then focused on the wad of tap circling her ankles. She hadn't brought herself enough time. Her hands scrambled with the tape as she realised he was stumbling to his feet beside her. Street was groaning cupping the side of his head with his hand.
She froze for a second. When she had woken up he was the last person she expected to have done this to her. She'd had a list in her head. Street hadn't made it. She stared at him with wide eyes of disbelieve. Her hands were still around the tape on her ankles and she sat on the bed watching him slowly make it to standing beside her. She didn't think about what she did next. She couldn't she was so shocked. She found her body moving without command and used her bound legs to kick out at him. He stumbled backwards once again, but stayed on his feet this time.
She jumped to her feet, apparently ignoring the fact she couldn't go anywhere with them still trapped as one. She used her free hands to hit out at him. She was a little far away for her hits to have any really impact on his body. With one hand still on his head Street back into the doorway being sure to give her noway of escaping. He hadn't yet realised she couldn't do much of anything with the duck tape still in place.
Chris jumped forwards trying to protect herself in the only way she could in this moment. She was never going to back down from a fight when she had a way to win. A heavy lamp had sat on her bedside table and now it was half way through its trajectory straight at Streets head.
They crumpled to the floor together. Street was out cold; blood flowed freely from an open wound on his temple. It was sticky and Chris found herself on top of him after over balancing with the weight of the lamp. Her first thought was about the blood. His blood, covering her arms, face, chest. She needed to get off him. It was easier thought than done.
The lamp was in smashed pieces around them, her legs were of no use to her. Chris only had her hands to get herself off him and every time she placed them on the floor to push herself upwards she was being cut with shards of glass. She let out a frustrated grunt after realising there way no other way, and she wasn't lying here waiting for him to wake up. She had to place her hands onto the floor.
Glass cut into them, but she continued to push herself up. She looked down at Street beneath her. Blood covered one side of his face. He was unmoving and a feeling of dread grew in the bottom of her stomach. Had she hit him too hard? His chiselled face held no expression.
Her hand was on the side of his face, the side without blood. Light as a feather her hand almost hovered above him. She could feel his warmth, but was scared to actually press her hand to his face. What if he didn't stir? or what if he did? Neither option was a good one. She pulled her hand away, her bloody hand print now outlined on his face.
'Shit,' she muttered under her breath. She rolled, moving herself to sit as his side, and placed two fingers to his neck. His pulse was strong a steady. Her relieve surprised her.
Her legs were still between his as she reached down and started working the tape apart. It was taking a stupidly long time. She needed scissors but hopping around like she was in a sack race trying to find a pair could take just as long. Finally she managed to pulled the end open enough to start unwrapping. She unwound it, the noise of the sticky tape parting screeched into her soul. She really did hate that noise. She glanced to Street lying partially underneath her. He was still out. What on earth had he been thinking? Why on earth had he done this?