"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lacey demanded, narrowing her eyes at the man standing guard by the door. For the past two minutes he had done nothing but stand and watch her. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

His eyes narrowed faintly and if she hadn't been looking at him very closely she wouldn't have noticed at all. So he didn't like being questioned? Lacey filed that information away. Maybe it would help her, though she couldn't see how anything could help her now.

Finally the man spoke, lowering himself into the chair next to him. "You're a very pretty girl. Work it out." He smirked, knowing that he had helped make her even more uncomfortable. He watched her squirm and held back a smirk.

Lacey glared at him, her eyes full of hatred. "In your dreams." She hissed, shrinking even further against the wall where she sat. There was a bed in the room but she had decided to rebel against anything nice these people did for her. She just wanted to go home.

Five days ago Lacey Stevenson had been innocently walking home through town. She had to walk along an almost always deserted path to get back to her house, but she had walked this way many times before and every single time she had managed to get back to her front door safely.

Not this time.

As she was approaching the end of the path two men had walked around the corner and continued on their way towards her. She had started to panic ever so slightly but she pushed it down again. Just because she barely ever saw people on her walk home didn't mean it wasn't possible. They were probably taking the shortcut into town, heading to one of the various pubs.

Lacey had continued walking and the moment she passed by the two men her heart rate dropped rapidly and she breathed a quick sigh. She was easily paranoid but she was usually almost wrong.

Not this time.

As she had been about to turn the corner she had felt a terrible pain on the side of her head and it took her thirty seconds to find out what had happened. One of the men had whacked her over the head with something. It all happened to quickly.

Lacey passed out.

She had woken up on the bed but had slipped off instantly to try and escape. That had been when this man came in and sat down on the chair. He had alternated between standing and sitting for the past five days, only leaving to eat and use the bathroom, she assumed.

Lacey stared at the man again, shaking the memory of her capture from her mind. During the past few days she had realised that he was actually rather attractive, with his short blond hair and sharp blue eyes, and under any other circumstances she would probably have flirted with him. In a bar or something. But this man was her captor and she felt nothing but hatred for him. That… and a tiny little bit of intrigue.

In the five days they had been confined in this room together he had said very little, moved even less and didn't seem in the least uncomfortable. Something about him was strange and if she weren't trapped in this tiny space (where she assumed she would also die) then she would have tried to find out more about him.

But things weren't different, and Lacey spent most of her time ignoring him and staring at the floor making escape plans. None of which would work, she knew. But it was comforting to feel like she was doing something to help herself.

Finally she had had enough of thinking and she slid down onto her side and curled into a ball, letting her hair fall over her face. She didn't know what time it was but she couldn't stand to be awake any longer. She still didn't know why she was here and she felt like she was slowly going crazy.

He had been paid two thousand British pounds to watch over Lacey, and another three thousand to arrange her kidnapping. He hadn't been told exactly why she was wanted and frankly he didn't care for specifics. That wasn't his concern.

He stared at her for a few minutes longer before rolling his eyes and staring at the wall opposite him. She had fallen asleep quickly, not that he was surprised. For the past five days Lacey had been determined to stay awake and glare at him. She was obviously afraid he would hurt her while she slept. He wasn't going to even go near her. He would tease her like he had earlier but he would never do anything. He was an assassin and that was what he was paid for.

Not that he was even getting paid for that right now. He was clearly being used as some sort of babysitter. It was humiliating. When he agreed to this 'job', babysitting a twenty-one year old girl had not been on his To Do List.

He was bored. It was as simple as that.

There was nothing to do but sit or stand and stare at the walls and ignore the girl every time she spoke. She asked too many questions and it annoyed him. He had often found himself leaving the room to go for a walk around the grounds.

He and Lacey had been placed in a little house in the middle of the Scottish highlands, miles from civilisation. He supposed after today he would probably let her out of the room, keeping the whole house locked up of course so she couldn't escape. Not that there was anywhere for her to go if she did get out, and he doubted she would even be able to try with him right there the entire time, but it was best to be safe.

The people he was working for were two days late in collecting the girl and if he had to spend any more time in this room he would go insane. He had been told to stay with her at all times, but he wasn't specifically told to stay in the one room. They had a whole house. It wouldn't do either of them any harm.

According to his watch it was four in the morning. He leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. Four hours until eight o'clock. He would wake her up then.

He woke her up the next morning, shaking her a little too roughly. "Get up." He said, his Russian accent cutting through her dreams. Lacey groaned and rolled over, squinting up at him through tired eyes. She huffed and forced herself into an upright position.

"What is the point?" She complained, rubbing her eyes. "I've got nothing to be up for."

"Follow me." He strode to the door, opening it wide. Then he turned and stared at her when he noticed she hadn't stood up yet. "Come on." He demanded. "Or would you rather stay in here?"

Lacey jumped to her feet instantly, noticing that it looked like the man was hiding a smile. She huffed again, glaring at him. She didn't trust him. She had already decided that he wasn't letting her go, but why would he suddenly just let her out of the room?

"What's your name?" She asked him, not taking another step. He knew her name and it wouldn't make her trust him any more if she had to keep thinking of him as 'the man'. Not that she ever intended to trust him, of course.

He raised and eyebrow and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly in… what was it? It could have been either contempt or amusement, Lacey couldn't tell which. This man barely showed emotion on his face, she realised.

He turned and walked out of the room, obviously expecting her to follow. "Yassen." He threw back over his shoulder. "Yassen Gregorovich."