Maybe, there was an exit Brandon had not checked yet. And what did he know about American exits? That could be one on the floor.
Bloody hell, how come not even one of the exits outlined? There should be an exit opened, just in case, what if there is a fire? Or are they going to sodding do then?
He was hardly five steps away from where he had pushed Killian when he felt a substantial force on his back, flattering his front to the wall that was nearby.
A wince left him when his streak met the wall.
Bran closed his eyes and hissed loudly when his arms were folded behind his back, and he smelled the familiar cologne of a fucking prick.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Accusing me of trespassing where as you are assaulting me?"
"How about you do not tell me, I don't tell you, and in that way, you get to stay in the country?" Killian spoke his ear, not bothering to lower his voice.
It almost seemed like a poetic line from him, a man of not many words. Brandon wanted to chuckle.
"Let go of me." The words he used were harsh and cold. They were enough to get the message across that he was not entertaining any of this.
Killian pressed his front to Brandon's back. "Fight me."
As if the rage had been fueled for more, brand used the wall as a force that he pushed against. Let himself go from Killian.
The man recognised it probably before Brandon could decide his next move. Killian pushed one of his knees in between Bran's legs just as he was about to use his leg to push against the wall.
"Fuck." He cursed. "Let go!"
"I said," Killian repeated, "fight me for it."
He thrashed, post, stomped on the foot of his boss, like there was no tomorrow. He was a free bird in a cage too small. If the fucking person who had been given an opportunity to escape.
Nothing worked, no matter how hard he tried, his limbs screamed in pain, but the adrenaline pushed him to go further.
"I like this," Killian spoke in his ear, not out of breath, the same way he was, "I wonder if he will wither like this underneath me. You would do the same for me, won't you?"
Brandon froze mid push, his eyes wide as he gauged what his boss just said.
Did he— no, no. He could not have. There is no way he said that. I heard it wrong.
"You heard it right."
Bran snapped his neck back to look at him, as far as his neck was willing to turn. Fuck, he can read my mind now?
Archer's lips tilted up in a cruel smirk. "sometimes, the prey gets very easy to read. Now tell me, would you like to escape?"
"Ye—" no; Brandon realised something. Killian may have asked him if he wanted to escape or not, but it felt like there was no guarantee he was going to get an answer that he would like.
"If you do, then you have exactly what to do."
Brandon snickered. "The day I get on my knees for you is going to be my last day on this earth."
For a moment, which seemed awfully long, Brandon heard nothing but silence. It was his breath combined with Killian's, and that was all he heard.
"Well," he felt pool and then pushed before he saw Killian's face as he took a few steps back because his boss pushed him. Before Brandon knew it, he was half bent backwards from the railing. "I suppose that can be arranged."