It Will Always Be A Game

02: Stuck

all the clouds in me are raining

My eyelids flutter as I try to adjust to the dim light around me. I sit up straight, but an excruciating ache runs down my spine and prevents me from doing so. Groaning in pain, I look in front of me to find my hands cuffed to a table.
What.
I try to move my leg, but the intense pain makes me wince.

The sound of a door creaking reaches my ear.
Despite my cloudy vision, I turn to face the sound and see a manly figure approaching me. I blink continuously in an attempt to clear my vision.

He places some pills in front of me, along with a glass of water. He walks over to the other side of the table. The creaking sound of the chair in front of me is echoed in the room as he pulls it back, taking a seat.

After moments of trying, my vision finally cleared up.
I find myself sitting in front of the familiar man.

"You're that model cop," I mumble faintly as I recognise him. It hurts to speak, and my lip feels like it's on fire.

All the memories of the day come crashing into my mind, one by one.
I'm instantly alert to my surroundings.

Interrogation.

"Take it," he says, motioning towards the pill.

Is he serious?

I shoot him a deadpan look and scoff in amusement. He watches me carefully.

Shaking my head, I lean forward, pop the pill into my mouth, and then spit it onto the floor, crushing it with my other foot.

His jaw twitches, but his face remains still.

"What?" My head tilts.
"You thought I would take that?" I scoff.

"Your wish," his hands fold.

"What do you know about Shane Rivers?" He casually throws the question at me.

I look at him.

I keep looking at him.

Don't blink don't blink don't blink.

"Nothing?" His brows raise, flipping through the pages of the file placed in front of him.

"Let's see, Alyssa Alsman White, 26, daughter of David Alsman White, White corporation in Germany, mother and sister dead in a car accident in March of 2005."

"Employee at Arlington, Arley&Rivens," he emphasizes, "born in Berlin, Germany."
He casts a glance at me after reading everything out.

I have to make an effort to keep my eyes from rolling. I furrow my brows instead. "You want me to compliment you? Impressive, great stalking skills," I come forward. "But I don't think I care, Ethan."

A muscle in his jaw twitches at the mention of his name, but he shrugs it off.

"Sure you don't."

"You fucking shot me."

"It wasn't me."

"But it was one of your pets."

"You shouldn't have escaped."

"Why am I here?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't."

We exchange a long, heated look. My face is straight as his gaze is locked with mine. Something about his stone-cold eyes made me feel something. I do not know what. The silence was getting too loud. I lean back and cast my eyes towards the door.