✓𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧³ | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥

5.9

IN THE MORNING we got told to go with Pope to check on one of their prisoners. By my surprise, in the room was Frost. He had been beaten nearly to death, blood running down his face and he was sporting a swollen eye. Carver was mercilessly beating him for information, and Frost was hanging by a thread.

However, Pope didn't like how slow he was being so he told my dad to help, whilst I stayed and watched.

Carver didn't like that idea very much, but was forced to obey under Pope's gaze. 

My dad stared at Frost for a second, making the bloodied man spit out, "Well, are we just gonna stand here staring at each other dreamily or are we gonna get to it?" Dad then angrily moved around Frost, putting his arm around his neck to choke him. He started to gag, which made Carver frustrated incase his prisoner passed out.

"Hey, you kill him, the two of us are gonna have a problem!"

"Oh shut up, he knows what he's doin'." I rolled my eyes, making his snap his head at me and pointing.

"Nobody asked you to get involved, Grimes!" Carver gave me a glare.

"Just give 'em a location, where your friends are hiding." My dad bent down to look at Frost. "You do that, this all goes away."

Frost coughed and looked back up, "That's, uh... That's a good offer. Or... and hear me out...you all could go eat shit instead. Just a thought." He said before getting punched in the face.

"Already gone through these steps. Maybe we start taking pieces." Carver suggested.

"You do what you gotta do." 

Pope thought before he turned his gaze at me, "Get the knife."  He ordered, nodding at Leah who had one out for me. I took it and walked over to my dad. I assumed this was another way of Pope seeing what we were capable of.

"I don't think you understand. We're the best shot you got." My dad stated to Frost.

"Why? We all "friends" now?" He replied sarcastically.

"No. Not 'cause we're friends. 'Cause she's the one holding the knife." He grumbled, so I spun the knife in my hand in front of him.

"Yeah. And your buddy's the one holding the gun." I turned around to see Carver clutching his gun which was in his pocket, trying to be as discreet as possible. He looked at me, giving a smirk before winking at me whilst he felt his gun. Gross.

"Shut up! Shut up and listen to me." Dad yelled and banged on his chair, nodding to my knife. I gripped onto Frost's finger, squeezing it tightly as I help my knife to it. "We know you're close to her. The leader. Close enough to know where they're hidin'. No one needs to die in here. So just say a location so we can all walk away happy."

Frost started to breathe rapidly, in and out without stopping. "Unless you really wanna lose a finger, I suggest you talk." I grit my teeth before cutting his finger slightly. As much as I didn't want to hurt Frost we had no choice.

"Go to hell, assho-"

I saw my dad subtly nod. I took it as an indication to cut my knife through the flesh and bones of his finger. Frost yelled out loudly in pain, squirming in his chair and trying to move his hand, however I kept a strong grip on his other finger. 

"Location!" Dad demanded again. "Or she takes another!"

"I can't!"

"Location!"

"No! No! Please stop!" Frost begged

"Location!" I yelled, cutting slightly through his other finger, which made him groan.