John had wanted to hit the men when one of them picked up his wife, but having his hands tied behind his back had made it impossible. Especially when one of them grabbed his shoulder and kept him moving.
I'm sorry, hon, he told her.
Once they were where they were going, John sat down next to her, staring at the captors and trying to figure out how to escape. He wasn't exactly sure what they had bound their hands with, plus they had done it up so tight, he could hardly move his hands. Besides that, every time he tried to move, the one called Torg took a step closer as though he was trying to seem threatening.
Believe me, I want to hurt them too, John told her. If Ronon were here, I'd tell him to use them for target practice.
He wasn't sure how long they were there before the other man came back. When they were finally untied, John curled his fists into a ball, wanting to pop Torg one, but held back. He wasn't going to do anything that would end up in his wife and child getting hurt.
So instead, they followed the leader to where the boss was waiting, looking for all the world like a don.
Did we just walk into The Godfather?" John asked Fred.
When he told them what he wanted of them, he was as disgusted as his wife. "You could have just asked!"
"But you might not have come," the boss said.
"How do you know that! We probably would have," John said.
"I apologize, but it's too late now. Please...will you do it?"
John looked over at Fred. It's not the daughter's fault her father's an idiot. Maybe we should talk to her?