Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

ELEVEN | interrogating marcus

▬Apparently, Jorge's idea of 'getting Marcus' was dragging the man out of the party and punching him in the face, not giving way for conversation or explanations.

"Whoa, whoa!" Newt said. He set Brenda down on the ground gently and rushed over to Jorge, pushing him back. "What the bloody hell are you doin'?"

"Giving this man what he deserves," Jorge fumed. "Why'd you drugged them, huh? Marcus? Why'd you drugged them?"

Marcus sneered up at him. "Do you really want to know?"

Jorge raised a hand to punch him again but Newt held him back. "Alright, calm down," he said quickly. "We'll settle this later. For now, let's get out of here. Don't wanna make a scene."

"Too late." Frypan pointed to the archway we'd came from, where the dancers had started to gather at, watching the commotion. Some of them seemed to be drunk as they kept pushing each other with dazed, happy looks on their faces, not seemingly realizing that they were sweaty and tired and little control over their actions.

"Tell them to leave," Jorge said to Marcus.

"Why?" 

"I said, tell them to leave. Now. All of them."

Marcus waved a drunken hand towards the crowd. "You heard him. Leave. Party's over."

There was a smattering of groans and complains, but thankfully, they all shuffled away without a fight, though some threw resentful glares in our way. A few minutes later the dance floor was completely empty of people. 

Jorge grabbed Marcus by the shirt and dragged him inside. Teresa and Minho helped carry Thomas inside while Aris and Felix lifted Brenda. They laid the two on cushions on the floor and sat around them, exhausted. Jorge pulled out a chair and forced Marcus onto it. He pulled out some thick ropes from his bag and tied the drunk man to the chair tightly, not bothering to be gentle.

"For every question you don't answer," he said in a low voice. "You get punched in the face. You hear me?"

Marcus didn't respond. Jorge punched him.

"Yes, yes, I hear you, old friend!" Marcus yelled, and somehow had the nerve to smile, despite the bruise blossoming on his nose.

"Old friend, my ass," Jorge snorted. He placed a hand on the chair back and leaned in close to Marcus. "Now tell me, why'd you drug Brenda and Thomas, huh?"

"I need them unconscious," Marcus drawled.

"For what?"

Marcus snorted playfully. Then he laughed. Jorge glared at him in disgust.

"Private matters," Marcus giggled. "You don't need to know about it."

Jorge punched him in the face and Marcus grunted in pain. A cut formed right above his eye and it started to bleed. Jorge was about to say something when Brenda woke up with a gasp. She sat up and blinked around her, disoriented. Her gaze focused on our faces and finally, on Jorge and Marcus.

"What's going on?" She asked, her voice croaky. "What happened?"

"This poor excuse for a man decided to drug you for some damn reason!" Jorge said angrily. "I'm trying to get some answers out of him."

"With not a lot of luck, I see," Marcus chuckled, and Jorge punched him again.

"I need water," Brenda muttered, and crawled over to her backpack on the couch beside her as if the entire ordeal was normal. 

I noticed she winced whenever she put pressure on her left leg. 

Jorge continued to interrogate Marcus, and my friends gathered round them to watch while Teresa and I stayed by Thomas' side. He was still unconscious, unmoving.