Interrogation

Chapter 1

“Where are they?” The room was terribly silent, a stench of recently printed papers in the mans hand as he tried to get any information he could out of the boy- yet nothing seemed to be working. The coffee on the table in front of me was as still as the expression on the boys face. He stayed silent, a small smirk on his face as he let a chuckle escape from his pink lips. “Where are they?” The man repeated from beside the boy, frustration burning in his words. He was getting tired of his silence, and that smug look on his face. “Where are they!” He exclaimed, pounding his fist down on the table in front of the boy. The table shook like a Haitian sidewalk, the coffee spilling onto the table and leaving a dead silence in the air. Nobody spoke- but that smirk was still stained on the boys face.

The man was getting angry. He was not the preferred interrogator, but my partner had gone home for the day after aching with a terrible sickness. I doubted his truthfulness in that. The man paced around the room, trying to gulp away his anger. I stood up and grabbed the mans wrist, pulling him to the very corner of the room.

“Hey. You okay?” My voice peeped out in his direction, and he nearly growled back for a response. “I got this. Just let me handle it. Take a breathe, and go make me some more coffee, Deal? I got this under control.” I tried to calm the tall dark man, and I watched as his eyebrows lowered a bit, his facial expression calming slightly. He nodded once, before leaving the room, tension rising when it should have been lowering. I grabbed the papers from the small table, my blue eyes looking down to the writing. Calum Hood. That was the name. Calum. I looked up to him, only to find him already looking at me. Jesus, this criminal was checking me out. He licked his lips, and sat up a bit, clearing his throat. I forgot to speak as I watched him move, his expression telling me he was just as intrigued as I was.

I gulped before taking a seat across from Calum, my feet dragging behind me as he watched me. Placing the papers down onto the table in front of me, I looked up at him, gently biting my lip.

“So, you're here for gang activity. There's a dead boy out there, and one of you-” I held up a picture of the four boys dressed in dark colors up to him, “One of you, if not all- killed him. Yet you won't give up their location. Why's that?” I placed my elbow on the table, placing my chin on my hand.

“Well, sweetheart, It simply isn't any of your business, now is it?” His brutal confidence frustrated me, but I held back a huff of annoyance.

“Are you scared of them? D-” I started to speak before my voice was cut off by his.
“I'm not fucking scared of anyone.” He growled in anger, obviously annoyed by my comment. This time, I smirked. And I was just getting started.