"Not here." Clarke checked the other rooms.

"Where else would he be?"

"With my piece of shit father. I wonder what they have planned. At least Michelle is dead."

We searched his apartment for anything useful. All we could find was a bottle of vodka in the freezer. Clarke took a chug of it and offered it to me. I shook my head.

"Such a good kid, Will." Clarke said putting back the alcohol.

The door knob suddenly turned. Clarke pulled me down, ducking behind the counter.

We pounced up, pointing our guns at the entered person. It was Glaccki, holding up a knife in defense.

"You came back, you little shit." He put his hands up in defense.

"Move and I'll blow you away. Where's my father tonight?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Clarke charged closer to him and slammed the door. I followed, still directing my gun towards Glaccki.

"Where's my father you meaningless garbage?"

"Is that how you talk to a family friend?"

"You were never anything close to family to me.  Do we have to do this the hard way?"

"You're dad isn't happy with you, Clarkie boy. If he sees you he will smash your head into the pavement. He won't even hesitate."

"Good thing I'll be smashing his head first. NOW WHERE IS HE?" Clarke raised his voice in Glaccki's face. He did not seem fearful of Clarke.

"Do your worst."

Clarke stole the knife from his hand and tossed it across the floor.

"Grab that chair, Will." He pointed to one of the chairs next to the tiny kitchen table. I drug it over.

"Working with the Merlin's now? Daddy will love that."

Clarke punched Glaccki in the jaw with one hard blast.

We tied Glaccki to the chair and gagged his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

I was conflicted. I remember how frightened I was in that position. How unbearable the pain was. Not sure how much more I could take. I wasn't a fan of torture.

"Clarke. Is this right?"

"What?" Said Clarke, holding Glaccki's own knife.

"Torturing him. It doesn't feel humane."

"Do you not remember when he did the same thing to you? Do you forget that they are the reason your little brother is dead?"

My heart sank. He was right. Glaccki had crucial information we needed.

Clarke did just that. He beat Glaccki until he couldn't take the pain anymore. He was bleeding and bruised. His eyes swollen, his lip gushing with blood. His body received cuts from his own knife. Clarke pulled down his gag off Glaccki.

"Speak." He ordered.

"He's picking a shipment up tonight. By the docks. South east side. Nine O'clock." Glaccki coughed.

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