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He’d disarmed her like a bully snatching some kid’s toy at the playground. Indy wished she’d spent more time in the gym working on her shoulders and arms instead of doing all those dumb squats that only made her body look more pear-shaped than it already was. She hunched her shoulders which had felt weak like chicken wings against his immense strength.
“Sit.” His command cut through the silence like a razor.
Indy blinked like a butterfly testing its wings. She glanced at the cold metal chair and gulped. This was not going in the right direction at all. It was obviously a mistake. They had the wrong O’Donnell. Someone had given this guy bad information, and Indy had better correct it before she got her neck snapped like a chicken.
Yes, it was obviously a mistake. But it was such a humongously gargantuan mistake that Indy didn’t even know where to begin!
She wanted to jump up and down and scream. She considered doing it but the dread in her chest kept her weighted to the floor, unable to catch enough of a breath to let it out as a scream.
“I saidsit,” came his voice through the screaming silence in her head. “I won’t say it again, O’Donnell. I’ll just break your knees and make it so all you can fuckingdois sit.”
A flash of anger rose up Indy’s throat. “Is it really necessary to talk like that?” she demanded, knowing she was being unnecessarily combative, perhaps making herself look guilty of whatever it was this guy thought she’d done.
The man said nothing. No shifting his weight from one booted foot to the other. He was still like a statue, silent like stone.
He was all business.
Maybe breaking her knees wasn’t just an idle threat.
Indy gulped, then moved towards the metal chair.
“No,” he said coldly. “The chair is mine. You sit on the floor. Over there against the wall. Do it now.”
“There are two chairs,” she protested, unable to stop herself.
“They’re both mine. Your place is the floor. Get over there, O’Donnell. Now.”
Indy blinked about a hundred times, glanced towards where he’d gestured with his head.
The spot against the wall hadn’t been swept in about six generations. There were dust bunnies the size of elephants waiting for her black-clad butt.
Now Indy thought back to her CIA training at the Farm. There’d been a session on interrogation and negotiation. Indy remembered the instructor saying something about “setting the frame” and “establishing dominance.”
That’s what he was doing.
Setting the frame.
Establishing dominance.
Doing it pretty darn well, she had to admit.
But Indy needed to at leasttryto counter his moves.
“I prefer to sit in a chair,” she said, making sure not to plead or beg, not to show fear or submissiveness.
She glanced at the metal chair, swallowed hard, then took a step towards it.
And he was on her in a flash.
One arm slid around her waist and closed tight. Indy gasped as he whipped her body around, grabbed her by the back of the neck, pushed her down to her knees, held her there from behind, his hand still curled around the back of her neck like a vise.
Indy’s head spun. She took gasping breaths. He’d moved with shocking quickness, nothing like she’d ever experienced.
His grip on the back of her neck was unbreakable. Her knees hurt from being pushed down on them so fast. The feeling of his arm grabbing and turning her body made her burn along her waistline where he’d touched her.
And yet again the man had been in such complete control that he’d shaken her up without really hurting her.
But he’d made it damn clear that hecouldhurt her.
