Assassin ( Book 3 )

Chapter 4

HUNTERS' POV

This time I woke up on time, considering I never went to sleep--every time I closed my eyes her bright eyes were staring at me. I found myself getting ready before my alarm even went off and I dressed quicker than I did yesterday, today would count as her second day of interrogation and we usually only keep them for a week before we give them over to the prison and have their lawyer discuss meeting dates of when we can further question. Unfortunately, Bradford was going to be questioning her today and I knew he had all but good clean intentions so that was one reason why I was quick to get to work-- the first time in forever --and the other reason. . . well I just wanted to see Curly again. I wanted to hear her smart remarks and see her devious grin with her glowing eyes (not the abnormal way). And I know that's not a good thing.

I pushed the door to the interrogation room open eagerly. And when I stepped in Bradford was already in the room.

"What were you doing at the crime scene that day?" Bradley slammed his hand down on the medal table, clearly frustrated.

"I told you, Detective, I was sightseeing." Curly replied with a smile.

I walked to lean on the window with my shoulder and I saw Bradford's face was tight; locked jaw and squinted eyes.

"You're not making this any easier on yourself. You should at least give me the answers I want before we have to torture it out of you."

Curly glanced down at her fiddling fingers before looking back up at the standing bent over Bradford and leaned her stomach on the table.

"Darling, your protocol usually makes that happen around the 5th day of my stay, and I don't intend to be here that long."

My brows shot up. Usually that works. The torture threat usually works. But she had no trace of fear or worry and she seemed pretty damn sure of her agenda; that she doesn't plan to be here in three days. And how does she know protocol?

"You wanna bet, Dollface?"

And though that was rhetorical she answered.

"I don't gamble, people tend to be very nasty with what they want from me if I was to lose." She replied, shrugging and sitting back in her seat as if she was having a regular conversation with a friend.

She really fascinates me.

Bradford didn't think so for he stomped out the room and out the one, I was in. Curious about where he was going, I followed him and into the boss' office. He practically burst through his door.

"Permission to torture the suspect sooner than normal?" Bradford asked, hands clenched by his sides.

Carmichael looked up from his book or whatever and at the two of us. "Why so?"

"She won't corporate. And she's acting foolish," my brows furrowed as I slowly looked at him "She's refusing to sit in her seat and she's fighting against her cuffs."

"What?" I caught the attention of Bradley with my confused-struck voice. What the heck was he talking about? None of that happened.

"You're ly--"

"Permission sir, to bring torture to the suspect sooner than protocol?" Bradley swiftly cut me off, he knew I was going to shed light on his frequent make-believe stories.

"Granted."

Bradford didn't even wait for the entire word to hit the air before he was out of the room, no way was I letting him hurt her unjustly because her sarcastic ways were too much for him.

"And Jordan you stay out of it," Carmichael told me when I was starting to walk out of the room.

"But sir--"