He keeps his face impassive, and for a few seconds longer he doesn't move. He can feel the skin giving very slightly under the pressure of the blade, and the solid bone underneath. The fact is, even if he broke the skin here the bone would stop him from doing any serious damage at all.

Not that he would. God, not ever. But he remembers that first moment, circling with guns pointed at each other, and then he'd been ready to do it if he had to. No matter who this kid was.

The knife moves, jerks up sharply, and the ropes fall loosely away from Tom's wrists, leaving faint red marks behind.