I said nothing.
"What's your name?" He asked again. I said nothing. It was my turn to by the strong, silent type. Clarke's voice wasn't raised or shaky. He opened his mouth to ask again.
"I believe torture requires some type of pain."
"Don't tell me how to do anything, Michelle. You heard what my father said."
She backed off a bit.
"Hit him." Clarke told him. I clenched every muscle as the whip struck my stomach. I screamed. He lashed me again. My skin stung.
Clarke signaled him to stop.
"Tell me your name."
"Your name." He said again, a little more aggressively. I was whipped. The whip stung my shoulder.
"You need to be more aggressive." Michelle commanded.
"I don't think I need to remind you who's in charge here. Hit him again."
The slash cracked across my back. I held back tears as my back stung. My muscles in my arm cramped up.
Clarke observed my silence. He slightly bowed his head, avoiding eye contact.
"Water." He commanded to Jimmy.
Water? Water? A drink would be refreshing, but I don't think that's what he meant.
Jimmy hosed me down with a long hose, connected outside, probably a fire hydrant or another water generator.
I closed my eyes and it heavily drenched me. I felt like I was drowning. My limbs felt heavier, as if they were about to fall off. I was too weak to move my legs.
"Needles." He told.
Jimmy pulled out a long needle, accompanied with a syringe. A clear liquid filled it about half way. My heart thumped.
He jabbed it into my stiff inner arm. It went down inches deep. My veins burned as the liquid pulsated through it.
"What.. What was that?"
No one said anything.
Then it hit.
It was agony. I could feel it pumping through me with every beat of my heart. My head felt like someone was pounding it with a hammer. I couldn't stop screaming, it was practically involuntary. Wet drops dribbled down my cheeks. Every vein in my body felt like it was on fire. To the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my toes. Through the pain I heard two faint words.
"Your name."
I curled my toes and breathed through my teeth. Sweat mixed with my tears as the pain intensified.
"He's not talking." I heard.
A pause.
"Get the eyeball scoop."
I couldn't fight the pain anymore. I couldn't keep fighting. I was weak, Liam was right.
"William." I pushed out my words.
The room went dead silent.
"William Merlin. Will...."
My eyes flickered and my brain shut down as I dove into darkness, my old friend.
I came to a long time later. There was chatter. My arms were no longer strung up above me, they were tied to my back again.
The searing pain was gone. All that remained was my aches and pains from the lashes and being strung up.
"Is he speaking the truth?" Said the female voice.
"The Merlin's do have another son around his age, apparently. But he isn't like his older siblings." Said the older man's voice.
"Find out everything you can on him. I'm not reporting to my father until we have every detail about him known." He said forcefully.
"If he has no training, Frank's a fool for leaving him here... Practically bait."
My droopy eyes watched them.
"You think this is a trap?"
"Perhaps... Merlin isn't a stupid man. I worked with him for a long time."
"But he hasn't shown any skills."
"Exactly. I'm off. Goodbye and goodnight." He tipped his hat and left. Clarke didn't stop him.
"Michelle, you and your guys better have every bit of information about him by tomorrow."
"Yes, Clarke. And what will you be doing tonight?"
"Watching him."
"You know you've been promoted, someone else can watch him."
"I have been promoted. Don't question me. Leave." He ordered.
The left as well.
I wished I could slip out of my consciousness and back into the peaceful darkness, where I could forget about this life.
He turned and came toward me.
"William Merlin."
"Will." I corrected.
"Fine. Will. Let's go upstairs." He untied me. If I wanted to escape, I was too weak.
I somehow managed to make it up a flight and a half of stairs before reaching Clarke's place of living. He helped me onto the bed.
I laid flat on my back, a curse word slipped out when he helped set me down.
He rested against the kitchen counter, pulling two mugs out of the wooden cabinet.
He poured warm water into each and propped a tea bag in. He handed one to me. I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the fold out bed.
"Will Merlin, you say?"
I nodded, slurping down the hot liquid. I burned my tongue in the process. My body ached. I could still feel the flaming liquid pump through my veins.
He played with his tea bag.
"I knew."
"You knew?" I asked questionably. How could he possibly know before they did?
"Not that you were who you say you are, no. I just knew you weren't Liam Merlin."
"Since when?"
"The fight. I had my suspicions before, but that really proved it. You have had no training. You couldn't possibly be Liam..."
"Why didn't you speak up to Glaccki? Michelle?"
"If I were wrong, I would never hear the end of it. They didn't realize and they took the fall. Now my father promoted me, despite the fact he bitched me out."
"If your father is Marcus King, why were you a guard? Shouldn't you be more high up?"
"You'd think. It was my first real mission, sort of. And it was kind of initiation. You know, 'see how long you can last in a room with one of Chicago's dangerous criminals'."
"Wow. I didn't think my brother was so.."
"Infamous? I suppose famous in our world. Yeah, your sister too. She's pretty bad ass. The undefeated Merlin's. But you are a complete mystery, Will. We didn't even know about you."
"I don't get out much."
"Why's that?"
"This life, the fast paced, drug life, isn't for me. The guns, money, violence. It isn't what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
I couldn't answer that. Because, truly, I didn't know.
"I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it. I just knew it wasn't this."
"I suppose getting accidentally kidnapped isn't something you wanted either."
"Not really, no."
"What were you doing out on the streets alone then?"
"Why are you asking so many questions? So you can report back to your father?"
"So I can see what kind of person you are. I can already tell, you're not the person who deserves this."
"What about you, Clarke King? What's your story?"
He crossed his arms and smirked sarcastically.
"If you must know, I was young when my father and the Rossi's crossed paths. My mom was a stripper my dad cheated on his wife with. I don't know where my mom is, but she sends me a birthday card every year... Ever since we battled with the Rossi's, I've been training my whole life to reclaim the family name and put us on top. It's all my dad ever cared about, and all he will ever care about."
Clarke was soft, genuine. I could see the truth he spoke, and could relate. Why was he being so honest with me?
"Fathers, huh?"
"Yeah, fathers."