Liam's eyes opened slowly.
The ceiling above him was familiar. Exposed beams.
The warehouse. The same flat even lighting he had looked up at a dozen times before.
He blinked.
His wrists were behind him.
He tried to move them and felt the rope.
His ankles were the same, tied to the legs of the chair, the knots tight and deliberate.
He lifted his head.
The room swam for a moment before it settled.
His vision was still slightly off at the edges, the way it had been on the pavement before everything went dark, but the center was sharpening by degrees.
He looked around.
Five people he recognised, all of them in chairs or on the floor, all of them bound.
Two were slumped forward, still out. One was sitting upright against the wall with his eyes open and a cut above his eyebrow that had dried dark down the side of his face.
Another was on the floor on his side, breathing steadily, unconscious.
And Shay.
