Not If I Save You First

twenty-nine | trigger

"You're a secret agent for the Central Intelligence Agency," Donovan laughed. He doesn't believe Little Dean. He's undermining his importance as a man to make himself feel better in this situation. "You couldn't even hold a gun when you were growing up. I made you tough enough to call yourself an agent!"

"You did nothing but make me afraid," Little Dean whispered.

"Little Dean," I said, watching his shoulders tense to make sure he could hear me. "Keep your voice stern, don't make him think you're still afraid of him."

We all know that Little Dean is still afraid of Donovan Halstead. I don't think he'll ever be not afraid of that man. He ruined Little Dean's childhood. Once Donovan stops breathing, that's when Little Dean won't be afraid of him.

Little Dean stood up from the table and crossed his arms. "You could end this right now. Just tell me where Leila is keeping the Hawthorne's," he said.

"You don't know anything about why Leila and I are doing this," Donovan smirked.

"You used to have some kind of superpower from the pills created by Maya and William Hawthorne," Little Dean explained. He paced around the interrogation room not looking at Donovan Halstead. "You want that power again, but they wouldn't give it to you. Kidnapping them could've given you what you want."

"How do you know all this?" Donovan asked.

"Seven of Spades," Little Dean answered. "We're working on this together. We found Leila's background, but we can't find her." 

"So, you know that Leila had to escape from Maya and William after they shipped her off and didn't look back. Whatever happens to them, after I get what's mine, it's their own fault," Donovan said.

I wanted to scream into Little Dean's ear. He's doing fine, but we're on a time restraint.

He needs to get Donovan Halstead talking.

We no longer have the time for his games. I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Little Dean jumped in fear when I walked into the interrogation room. Completely calm and composed, I walked right over to Donovan Halstead. I held one of my blades to his neck, yanking back his head to give me a full view of his neck.

"Tell us where they are," I whispered in his ear.

"You're still as aggressive as ever," Donovan smirked.

"Do you want to find out?" I rhetorically asked. "I'll slit your throat right here. You'll never get the pills that you want from the Hawthorne's. All the murders you committed would have been for nothing, if I just slice through your carotid artery."

"You wouldn't kill me in front of my son," Donovan breathed. He's trying to slow his heartbeat, but I can tell that he's afraid.

"Try me," I seethed. "Little Dean ... look away."

Little Dean refused to look away, but I'm sick and tired of Donovan Halstead's little games. He's nothing more than a spec of dirt that needs to be blown away. I'd happily take his life if it means being free from this menace forever.

I shifted the blade to start on his left side.

"Do you want to make up for being a shit father?" Little Dean asked. I froze at his question, but I kept my grip firm. He wasn't going to wiggle out of this. "I know you care more about living than me. I know you care more about your fucking superpowers than you do about me."

"Forget it! Turn around and let me slit his throat!" I shouted.

"Tell us where they are and let it be your penance before you spend the rest of your life behind bars," Little Dean pleaded. "Tell us and I'll forgive you for making me terrified of my own father. I'll forgive you for holding guns to my head. I'll learn to understand why you thought you had to kill my mother! Tell us!"