I had the weapon didn't I? I could end him here. This man, this liar, this player, this cheater, this murderer. He deserved it didn't he? Deserved to die, have his life taken from him like he had the person who lay behind him.
My finger brushed over...
"Don't lie to me." Jaren stood up, towering over me. My lip began to tremble as I fought to protect Sam. I bit it hard to make it stop. Why was I protecting the murderer? I remembered the gun he had, and how close he came to taking my life.
"Not a lie," I tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. "Sir."
I could see anger bulge through him.
"I was wrong to think I could go easy on you. You want to defy me, you're going to get a proper interrogation." The word interrogation struck fear in me, but I wouldn't let it show. I followed him with out another sentence escaping my pursed lips. We descended down a stair case, the further down we went the less it looked like his modern mansion. The walls morphed into bare stone and a smell grew more vivid with each step. I couldn't make out what it was but it fumes had reached my nose once before. I began to notice the pain in my leg, it clawed at my tolerance. I started to grind my teeth, trying not let Jaren see my limp.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and I saw what looked like a basement. Except it was a normal basement. The stone walls were noise cancelling and there was gravel on the ground. The lights were dim, giving it an eery feeling. There are rooms down the hallways, each have sound proof doors and heavy locks on the handles. There was a banner hanging on the wall. It was a Basilisk slithering around a target with the word ฿₳₴łⱠł₴₭₴ on the bottom. The font struck up recognition in my brain.
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It was the same font that was on the tattoo Jaren had. I studied it for as long as I could without Jaren noticing, then followed him toward a door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door for me and I rolled my eyes in disgust. In the room there was a large chair tucked into a table, on the other side of the table was a smaller chair. The lights in here were bright and I had to squint at first. I took my place in the smaller chair, I knew how these "interrogation" things go. I was able to relax for a moment, now that the pressure was off my splintering leg. Regaining composure, I sat straight up. Jaren falls into the larger chair.
Jaren's eyes were scanning me, and I hated that I felt intimidated by his tall, muscly figure.
"We'll start small, yeah?" He suggested, I kept my mouth shut. "How was your child hood?"
"How does that have anything to do with-"
"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" He bellowed. I glared at him, if he didn't have that stupid badge my palm would've messed up his perfectly defined cheek bone.
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"I was born in Pennsylvania. My mother Brooke Evans and my dad Conner Evans. We never had much money so we lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of town. Sure, I didn't eat very much and all my clothes I had made myself, but we were happy. My dad worked as an office employee in town and my mother served part at a bakery. The other part of her day she spent homeschooling me." I sighed, remembering what life used to be like brought me to a place I'd never been before.
"I spent a lot of time alone at the house. My days were filled with me sitting in our large oak tree. I could scale that thing like a squirrel by the time I was 6. When I was nine my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer." I stopped for a moment, swallowing hard
"We couldn't afford the proper treatment and she..." I stopped again, my thumb pressed hard into my wrist.
"She died." I looked up, allowing him to see how much I despised him.
"And from there my dad went into a state of depression. He started not showing up to work and spending all our savings on alcohol. I was to young to get a legal job so I started dealing on the wrong side of the law. Being ten, it was hard at first but soon dealers realized I was starved so I could fit into small places. I sold all my dads cigars and my mom medications. I took jobs to rob stores and pickpocket pedestrians. I was making enough money to keep my father and I alive. By the time I was 12 my best friend Erin, she was 18, we had our own "business." One day we were caught and Erin was sent to jail."
I frowned, it had just recently hit me how much I missed Erin.
"But I was a minor so I was sent to an orphanage. I was adopted at 13 by Jacob and Eva Washington who are my current parents. I went to college in New York and haven't left. And well here I am now."
I took a breath then met Jaren's eyes. He hadn't said a word the entire time and for the first time he seemed speechless.
