Vindictive #4

7. do you want to die

Bernard glares at me as I entered the room. Lokee had him tied to the chair in one of his more complex knots. He was a pro at interrogation, which is why Gary likes him so much.

"Give us the room," I tell him, tying my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck.

"Excuse me?"

"The room," I repeat a bit slower. "Leave it."

Lokee's eyebrows knits together, but after a minute he shakes his head and leaves muttering good luck. The second he's gone, Bernard's confidence grows. I can see it in his face, in his body language. He straightens up, stares me down. I'm a female, so he has nothing to fear.

"Real clever," he drawls sarcastically. "Knocking me out like that. How'd you get me to your car? Small girl like you couldn't have done it alone."

"There's a lot I can do," I reply shortly. I was always greatly underestimated by men, and it didn't bother me in the slightest. I liked the look of surprise and rage on their face when they realized they weren't the smartest in the room after all, or the bravest or the best. "We're not here to talk about me, though, Bernard."

"Who do you work for, huh? Tell him to look me in the face like a man." He spat on the floor. "Not send some stupid bitch to..." He stops and laughs, his head tilting teasingly to the side. God, I wanted to wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face. And I would. Soon enough. "What the fuck is it you're going to do?"

"I'm going to ask you about Esteban's, and you are going to answer honestly."

He stares at me. "I don't know nothing."

"I think you do."

The room we were out in was large and soundproof. It had a horror movie vibe to it, what with the dim lighting and the dry blood stains on the floor they clearly hadn't been able to get out. The room smelled like disinfectant and bleach, and I'm sure Bernard noticed that. But he kept a brave face.

Wouldn't want to look like a pussy in front of a girl.

I was trying to be calm and nonchalant, but my nerves were almost to the roof. I couldn't go back to Gary empty-handed, I couldn't displease him. How would that look? I could already hear his voice, fixed to snap at me like I was stupid, a waste of space. What use would I have of you if you're incapable of doing something as simple as obtaining information? I had to do this, and I had to do it right. There was no way in hell I was going to fail at this.

"Look, bitch," Bernard growled. His face twisted up into an ugly scowl. "I told you I don't know nothing. Let me go."

"Do you know what it feels like to nearly drown?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow. "I do. I was at the beach with my father—couldn't have been older than six or seven. I didn't know how to swim yet, so I wasn't allowed to go too far into the water without him. We'd been sitting in the sand for a while. It was hot and I had finally succeeded at building a sand castle. It must have taken a dozen tries, but I don't give up easy. I've always liked being good at things."

"I don't give a fuck."

I ignored his rude comment and walked behind him, towards the table.

"I turned to my dad to show him but he'd fallen asleep tanning, so I let him be. After accomplishing the sand castle, I was positive I could accomplish swimming. So I ventured into the water alone." I shook my head, my lips twitching at the memory. "I remember how cold the water was. At first, I didn't go far. I went about knee deep. Then waist deep. Then I figured to go big or go home, so I went further. I thought I could teach myself how to swim by mimicking what other people were doing, but a wave came and ended up dragging me further into the ocean."