“Touch her and you die.”

He growls, gun in hand, cane in the other.

You hadn’t heard him come in- you were too focused on keeping your information confined from the interrogation.

Relief flooded your veins as you heard the vibrations of his baritone voice, his shadow cast on the floorboards.

Pekka’s face was photo-worthy. You manage to smile wearily, blood dried on your face and body from hours of torture.

He had come. Kaz had come back to save you.