Allison entered the kitchen, sighed, and turned around to look at him. He was seated, cocky as usual.<br/><br/>It was about time that the redhead find out what the fuck the man was doing there and how long he planned to stay. She felt even more empowered now that she stitched him up---with nary a thank you.<br/><br/>Tired of not being able to speak, Allison pointed to the tape over her mouth. "Hmmm?"<br/><br/>This time she didn't wait for his arrogant answer. She reached up with a manicured hand and, keeping her eyes trained on him, she peeled the tape partially off her face. She left it dangling from her left cheek. She spoke in a measured tone that impressed even herself.<br/><br/>"I want answers from you. If you're going to kill me, kill me. If you're going to rape me, rape me. But quit toying with me. What is your story? Why are you here?"<br/><br/>Allison got them all out. Then she placed the tape back over her mouth. She was trying for the best of both worlds: get out what she wanted to say, but then retreat back into silence so as not to anger him. It was the ultimate game of playing both sides to the middle.<br/><br/>Allison leaned against the stove, arms folded just beneath her 38C boobs. If he was going to attack and punish her for speaking, then so be it. She'd been quiet long enough. Yeah, he was likely misogynistic. So she had to take it lying down? Without words of her own?<br/><br/>Of course, she had re-gagged herself, and maybe that muted some of the effect of her mini-outburst. But as angry with him as she was. Allison ultimately wanted to live. She wanted to survive this.<br/><br/>She kept telling herself that this was all temporary. That eventually Rade would tire of this game and leave. And that he'd leave with her still alive.<br/><br/>What else could she think?<br/><br/>Allison stitched him up because she felt duty-bound to do so. Now she wanted some acknowledgement of that. Removing the tape from her mouth long enough to make a statement seemed reasonable. To her.<br/><br/>She tried to remain brave, first with her posture, which was shoulders straight and chest proud. She tried with her stare, which was fixed on his dark, mysterious eyes. She just wasn't sure what would happen if he rose and came toward her. How brave would she be?<br/><br/>The knife rack was nearby, like a trope from a horror movie. The intruder appeared unarmed except for his arrogance and mental gymnastics. It would be feasible for Allison to draw a knife and threaten him with it. But he was a big, strong man and if he ever wrestled the knife from her, she would be fucked---in more ways than one.<br/><br/>So she was supposed to just take his shit because he might overpower her?<br/><br/>She bit on her lower lip, looking at the knife rack in a way that was hardly subtle. Should she?<br/><br/>What would she do? She didn't even like to kill bugs in the house. She once used a broom to sweep a mouse from her basement into an empty coffee can in order to release it to the wild. She didn't consider setting a trap that night.<br/><br/>And she would attack him with a knife?<br/><br/>Well, what if her life depended on it?<br/><br/>Allison whimpered a little, realizing that even if her life was indeed threatened, she might not have the temerity to plunge a knife into Rade.<br/><br/>Angry, frustrated and confused, Allison stomped a bare foot onto the linoleum and turned her back to him, unable and unwilling to look at him any longer. She hugged herself, trying not to sob and bracing herself for his next move.