Mike
It's been four days since I began to torcher Isaac for information. I must hand it to him; he's stronger than he looks. I pull open the door to the empty clubhouse and lift the floorboard behind the bar with growing agitation. The sound of my boots is the only echo as I make my way down the cement stairs to the cell door where Jace stands waiting for me.
"Merry Christmas Eve," he cheers.
I give him a pointed look. "People don't say 'Merry Christmas Eve,' Jace. They say, 'Merry Christmas' on the actual day." I roll my eyes at stupid Jace.
He smiles as I turn to look through the bars of the door and see Isaac sitting there. His head is down. His chin is resting on his chest with those bulky 'old school' headphones over his ears. I can hear the heavy metal music from where I stand
