She hissed softly as he grabbed her wrists and levered himself up. The motion caused her to fall forward on to her knees, and she tried to yank her wrists out of his grip but she had little leverage and he wasn't letting go. "How exactly am I supposed to put the knives away when you're holding my wrists?" she taunted. "And Scotty, I don't believe for a minute that you're going to be reasonable about my knife. You're not going to give those knives back until I make you." He wasn't doing anything particularly threatening, but his grip on her meant that she was trapped, reminded her that she was trapped here in this lift. A spike of fear ran through her. She yanked again, trying to keep the panic from descending. "Let me go," she demanded.