She followed his gestures carefully, moving almost as meticulously as he did. Had she known who and what he was, she would have not felt so superior. She thought she was a step ahead of him, but only he knew she wasn't.<br/>"I don't believe you. What kind of deal? Nobody goes homicidal over a deal like that unless they're a sociopath, or dealing with one. I've only ever seen reflexes like that in movies and shit. I don't even think your name is Derek - Don't." she snapped sternly at his first step. As he took his second, though cautious, her lips pressed together as she pumped the shotgun. "I said don't move."<br/>Her thoughts spiraled in her head, her finger firmly on the trigger. Had she not been so concerned about watching his face burst, she may have fired before he slipped from sight.<br/>She knew there was only once place for him to go. As she tried to turn, she was halted before she could even hit 90 degrees - the body of her gun pressed firmly against her chest with her hands trapped between. Her legs came up once, twice then a third time, almost as if she were trying to backflip over him, but it was no use. His arms were too sturdy. There was no use in screaming either, no one would hear her, and it wasn't her style. Her arms continued to wriggle and attempt to slide in either direction to loosen and set her free. When she imagined herself in his arms, this was not what she had in mind.<br/>His words held no meaning. All feelings of trust were being crushed, along with her ability to breathe.<br/>"Shove it up your ass." she grumbled, still fighting him.<br/>With the last of her strength, she pressed her hands against the body of her shotgun and forced his arms away with every bit of her strength. Had she not been working with ranch animals all her life, this surely wouldn't have worked. It took a few seconds and she felt her body begin to shake under his excellent force of strength, but with a final grunt from her throat, his arms were just far enough she bent at the knee and fell, sliding down between him and the shotgun. The rough edge of the chamber grazed her cheek before she rolled away, crouched low and staring at him like a predator. Her feet found the ground as she slowly rose to a stand, staring at him with no mind to her droopy shoulder strap.<br/>Silently catching her breath, she glared at him through dark eyes, dimming even more from his deceptions. This situation would need some evaluation. Clearly he was much stronger than she was, and had weaponry skills - though how vast and efficient, she would rather not find out if it could be helped. There was no way she could overpower or take him on in this moment, especially with her fatigue setting in. There was a chance she could outsmart him, knowing the secret of their home and the land, but for how long?<br/>After just a few more moments, she stood straight, relaxing just enough to avoid a threatening stance. One deep breath and she approached him casually - normal paced steps, regular shoulder tension, and just a bit of a scowl. She stood for an extra moment before snatching the gun from him, again, casually, yet quick, so as not to stir his reflexes to rapidly. Looking it over, she brushed he thumb where a thin layer of her skin stuck to the loading chamber and clicked the safety back on. She still had it in her hand, just hanging down by her side before her hand came up, quick as lightening and slapped him across the face. The solid contact echoed in the barn as her fingers tightened. Before he even had a chance to speak, her index finger stretched in a sharp, serious point right to his face.<br/>"If you ever lie to me again, I'll do worse than that, you hear me?"<br/>She still didn't give him an opportunity to speak. Her brows just bounced up as she turned away and walked back to the house, resting the gun against the wall outside the door.<br/>"And I still don't believe your name is Derek." she called back to him, a hint of humor seemingly returning to her voice.<br/>The door slung open behind her, no care since she couldn't very well hide anyway.<br/>She returned to the sink, her hands wrapped over the edge of the cool metal. There was no telling if it was the heat, the action, or the exhilaration of it all, but she suddenly found herself very tired. She pressed her cold hand to her brow, only to have it heat again instantly. Her head turned from side to side for a moment, flicking the faucet to cold as she bent over to retrieve another cloth. It folded into a small square, fitting perfectly in her palm as she doused it under the chilled water. Tapping it off with her knuckle, she squeezed as hard as her weakened, shaky grip allowed and ran it across the back of her neck. A single deep breath and it came gliding over her clavicle.  She folded it again and pressed it to her cheek, just then aware it was stinging from the scraped flesh.