[attr="class","text"]Blue eyes narrowed irritably. The idea of burning money—even figuratively—made him want to wince. [break][break]
There were poor people out there who
needed that. Or, at least, rich dudes down on their luck who needed him to
invest it. [break][break]
“You know it’s not just mine, right?" As the makeup brush switched, he did his best to ignore the itching in his nose. What was it about being trussed up that made you itchy? The man feigned melancholy.
“Your depriving future little Ozzies of their trust fund.” [break][break]
If some terrorist
asshole was going to take him out (or was sent here by his buddies), he’d make sure it was embarrassing. It was the least he could do with someone who ruined his first
actual vacation in two years. Still, at the talk of
Clare’s, Oz’s whimpering stopped. That shit
definitely burned off Buneary lashes. Maybe he’d just find and mock the video later. There was
some way he could make himself look better. [break][break]
The talk of serial killers drew out a nervous chuckle. But, he couldn’t exactly let
that definition pass. “Pretty sure you can’t do it all in one sitting either.” Mass bombings were
terrible, but they didn’t exactly engender
terror the way a serial killing psychopath did. That’s why terrorists don’t get episodes on
Dateline.” When the hands go up, he swallows. Another peal of laughter dies in his throat.
These guys are really into it, huh? It’s not like I’m actually in danger, right? No one answered him. Of course not.
[break][break]
“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll be a good little hostage." But it was
really hard to sit still. The fact that he was being told to suddenly made every muscle erupt in pins and needles.
Chill out, Oz. When the other man’s hand digs into his shoulder, the CEO winces. The chair thumps down with a metallic clang.
“Owch, babe. Do you have to be so rough?” It wasn’t like the chair actually posed a threat to anybody on two legs. Just his ego if he sent it toppling over.
[break][break]
“You know—” Oz’s blue eyes trailed to the cards.
“--you could have just asked me for the money.” He took a deep breath, his attention flickered to the camera. A hand across the way tapped it to the card.
“I’d get it to you faster.” With a deep breath, he began reciting the words in front of him. But, at one part, he paused. With an incredulous expression, he turned to his captor.
[break][break]
You want me to say that? Seriously? His expression didn’t need a translation.
[attr="class","ooc"]
[break]
NOTES