A good man? Ryan laughed softly at that after he watched his men rush upstairs. â€œWell, dear Eric, that all depends on your definition of good. Sometimes men who think theyâ€™re good donâ€™t always do the right thing and are considered bad to most people. What kind of man are you I wonder?â€ He mused to himself, staring into Ericâ€™s eyes again, smiling.<br/><br/>He took a step back and listened to Eric speak about his sister and their trip while he waited for his men to come back down. What the hell was taking them so long? Surely they arenâ€™t that stupid that they canâ€™t do a simple task? Apparently so, Ryan thought, he might have to find people who were a bit smarter and knew their place. Then again what fun would it be if they didnâ€™t cringe at the sound of his yelling? These men wouldnâ€™t be able to handle life if he decided to just let them go. And that was the fun of it: they always begged and pleaded when he threatened them that it brought shivers down his spine. Ryan almost physically shuddered with excitement but he kept his composure.<br/><br/>â€œOh well thatâ€™s nice, though Iâ€™m sorry to hear about your bad day.â€ A pause then: â€œIs your sister as gorgeous as you are?â€ He asked Eric, folding his arms. The man was definitely an interesting fellow, Ryan admitted to himself silently. He would be perfectâ€¦ But he had to be careful here; the guy was still a trespasser sticking his nose where it didnâ€™t belong. Trespassers were troublesome no matter how gorgeous they were.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>In one swift motion, Kat positioned herself behind the man she had pinned, keeping her knife near the manâ€™s groin still, and glared at the three men. The big man looked like he could easily get away from her, but she was fairly skilled with pressure points and made sure he could not free himself. Whenever she felt even the slightest shift she just made sure he knew who was deciding if he lived or died without hesitation. Of course he was a stubborn prick, trying to get free now that his friends were around, so she decided to draw some blood. It amazed her how much they acted tough even when their friend was restrained; it almost made her smile with amusement. â€œIf you value his life and your own youâ€™ll tell me where Eric is.â€ She said as she watched them try to surround her.<br/><br/>She tried to make it sound like she was bluffing, partially because she was, but she also sounded serious.<br/><br/>Kat was not an idiot; she knew these men could easily overpower her if they felt she was not a threat and so she would gamble a bit. If they thought she was no threat then they would probably take advantage of her and that would be when she would strike. She eyed them with a fierce gaze, daring them to make a move while she kept their friend in check. The bastard was still whimpering from the small yet fairly deep cut on his leg. It was rather pathetic, really, that such a cry baby was thrown out to be a sentry. But she also kept in the back of her mind that she needed to be cautious. She was outnumbered here and that meant they had still the advantage.<br/><br/>Of course she had no intentions of letting that happen. Her high school years were not to go in vain, as they did not call her â€˜Catâ€™ for no reason. â€˜Catâ€™ might be just a memory now being different from the present Kat but she was still a part of her. It was a suitable nickname because she was cunning, sly, and often said things to make herself seem stronger than she was. However, cats have claws and she definitely had claws when provoked or irritated.<br/><br/>Moving her knife to the captive manâ€™s throat, â€œStart talking, I wonâ€™t ask again,â€ she said.