18 | Why?

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Sienna's POV:

I look down at my cuffed hands. The background noise is full of fingers hitting the keyboard buttons repeatedly and occasional clicking of the mouse.

I raise both of my hands. The officer in front of me instantly watches my movements, his hand hovering over the gun attached to his waist. I scratch the itchy spot on my face.

Damn. Calm down. I'm the one with cuffs.

I drop my hands back into my lap. Behind me, I hear someone enter the room. I don't bother to turn because not even second passes and the cop is in front of me. He stands next to the officer who was typing into his computer the whole time. The new cop leans closer to the sitting officer, his hand going on either side of the desk. I look elsewhere.

Mhm, nice wall.

They discuss something that I can't hear. Before I can examine the other wall someone stands in front of me. I look up, my eyes locking with the cop.

"What motivated you to--"

I cut him off. "I didn't do what you thought I have."

He sighs before sitting on the other side of the table right opposite me. "I'm Victor."

Congratulations?

He motions for me. "You are?"

Is he trying the technique of good and bad cop? Bring the bad one out so it's more dramatic.

"Sienna, but that you know."

He nods, confirming my words. "You are young I know this can be intimidating."

I run my tongue on my teeth. "Really? Because it only takes a raised arm for your friend here to almost point a gun at me."

Victor turns to look at his colleague who is already glaring at me. "Get out." Victor orders.

He hesitates.

"Now." Victor almost barks out.

The guy stands up and leaves but before he can I send him a smug smirk.

Victor looks back at me. "As I said I won't make it scarier--"

"Yeah, your friends took that into their own hands." I sarcastically retort.

He lifts his brow.

"It's nice how you cops tackle people when they are not being aggressive rather... Violently." I grit out. "Oh, and you must like pointing guns too, huh."

"You had a weapon."

I roll my eyes. "The said "weapon" was lying on the ground further away from me and I didn't use it against anybody."

"Not even against Alexander Adwell?" He pushes.

I furrow my eyebrows. "No. The knife didn't even have blood on it."

He nods, contemplating his next question. "Why did you have it with you?"

"Why are you assuming it belongs to me?"

This seems to catch him by surprise. Before he curses under his breath. "It has your fingerprints on it."

I roll my eyes. And I thought I had him. Boring.

"Tell me what happened."

"Why, you won't believe me."

"I will." His tone holds a promise.

I eye him for a while before I start telling him. From the phone call to El Chapo and his 2 elves... to me being tackled to the ground.

"And you brought a knife because he called you to come to him?"

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