He traced the scalpel across her chest, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to send the icy chill of fear through both women. When both Jane and Maura remained silent, he glared. They were supposed to cry, or shout or call him names. They were supposed to suffer. He sliced open a three inch gash across the doctor’s chest and, although she whimpered slightly, she made no further sound.

Ripping the gun from the holster, he held it to Maura’s head. “What if I shoot your ***** right now?” he spat at Jane. She tensed her jaw and forced herself to look away from the deep red line that was oozing blood onto Maura’s chest and between her *****. Taking a deep breath, she hoped that her silence wasn’t about to kill Maura.

Fury boiled under the surface and Charles Hoyt fought the urge to pull the trigger and blow the pretty doctor’s brains across the cement floor.

Before he could make a decision, a quiet knock echoed in the silence. Robin poked her head around the door. “Doctor.” She whispered. “There’s a problem.”

Hoyt growled and tucked the gun away again as he followed his apprentice from the room.

“Maura, oh god Maura, are you ok?” Jane asked as soon as the door closed. Despite her better judgement, Maura craned her neck to look at the wound on her chest. It was deep and would need stitching. Her neck stung but she could tell that it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Hoyt was playing with them, he could have killed her there and then with one swift swipe of the scalpel but had chosen to toy with Jane. Small cuts that bled would prolong the blood loss and make death a slow process.

“I’m ok.” She said, the tremor in her voice making Jane even angrier than she had been. She didn’t remember when she’d stopped being scared but she wasn’t. She was boiling mad and Hoyt was going to feel the full force of her wrath.

“Can you get the paperclip, I have an idea.” Jane said. She was going to get them out of here. And when she did, she was going to spill Hoyt’s black blood across Boston.