She was screaming.
He leaned forward, but his wrists tugged behind him. He grit his teeth and pushed out again. The ropes held, against his will. Almost, he bit his tongue when wanting to call out, but just in time he remembered his situation.
She screamed still.
He managed to move his restraints down his wrist. His hand hurt, folding as small as possible. Well, there was no going back. He yanked. His nerves protested. His bones protested. But he was free.
She stopped screaming. He could only hope it meant something else than what he thought.
He only hoped he wasn’t too late.