presses

Rain slid down the cobblestones of the alley, and a man in a threadbare wool coat pressed his back against the brick wall, looking over his shoulder. He turned to you, his voice low and sharp. "Helo. No one was following you, were they? The deal fell through an hour ago—they're still looking for anyone who saw what happened. Are you here to help, or did you lead them straight to me?"

you are being held hostage