How to Keep a Secret

Chapter 17- Hysterics

I quietly approached him, watching as he moved his head back and forth, trying to get a sense of his surroundings despite the blindfold covering his eyes.

I tried to channel all my anger against him, remembering the way he treated me the first time we sparred. It wasn't difficult; I hated him more than Hector, and Hector had shot me with a tranq dart that made me howl in pain.

I gently removed his blindfold and smiled widely at him, watching him blink as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Good morning Francis. You woke up just in time; I have a few questions for you."

"Just get to the questions already. I won't budge, you'll see," he spat at me.

I ignored his remark and began to circle him slowly.

"I know you know where it is, Francis. The file. I know you know who has it," I said, finishing my circle so I could see his facial expressions.

At the word 'who' rather than 'where', I saw a slight change of temper in his eyes-- the slightest hint of fear.

I let his fear fuel me. "Yes, you know who has it. Now this can go two ways-- you give me their name, and all is well-- or I can make you give me the name."

"Not in a million years--" Francis began to say before I cut him off with a quick kick to his chest, leaving him wheezing.

"Now that wasn't very nice of you. Let's try that again. Who has the file?"

"I don't know--"

I punched him in the face, hard, watching as he winced. When he looked back, his eyes looked less certain. "Lying isn't very nice, Francis. Why would you do that? Now how about you tell me the name."

"Not a chance, bitch."

I kicked him hard in the shins, then slammed my fist into his stomach. I heard him gasp in pain, and when he looked back at me, his eyes were watering.

"H-howard Jackman. T-that's the name," he said quietly, his voice wavering. I bent down and looked him in the eyes, long and hard.

He squirmed under my gaze, looking everywhere except at me.

"You're lying," I growled.

"Am not!"

"You're lying!" I shouted, punching him square in the jaw.

"Tell-- me-- the-- truth!" I said, kicking him between each word.

"Taylor Moore," he shouted, turning his head towards me. I could see two tears running down his face. "That's the name. Are you happy now?"

I felt my blood run cold. A second earlier, I had been reveling-- the feeling of unbridled control, the ability to know that I could inflict such emotion from a person-- it had sent my heart racing. The instant I looked into his eyes the feeling faded into regret and remorse. No matter how terrible he was, Francis didn't deserve this. No one did.

I opened my mouth to choke out an apology, but was cut off by a guard entering the room. I kept my eyes glued on Francis, on the bruises that I had inflicted, as I was escorted out of the room.

I kept my head down in shameful silence as I was led down hallway after hallway by the guard. "Wait here," he said, leading me into a room and closing the door behind him. I heard a gasp that made me finally look up for the first time since leaving Francis.