Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
In the end, though, I show up because she’s got me by the short and curlies. And it hurts like hell.
Chapter Nine
GRIFF
“You sure you want to bail this kid out?” Staff Sergeant Pantalini asks me. It was a surprise to find Pantalini at this station since he used to be on the Academy neighborhood beat, but it worked out well for me.
“Yup. Dating his sister, and she won’t let me in the house if I don’t come home with him.” This is mostly true.
“Normally, we wouldn’t arrest a kid for picking up something off the street, but the victim was insistent and he had priors.” He shrugs. “You should leave him here. I bet after a few nights in the slammer, he’d straighten up.”
Doubtful. He probably needs a full four years at a military school. I’d propose this to Lauren, but she’d be more likely to kick me in the balls with my own boots than praise me for a good idea. The thing is that my head got screwed on straight in a quick second after I'd joined the military, and I think it’d be the same for Mick. A regular schedule, specific expectations, and consistent discipline will turn this punk into a man.
“Yo, Murphy, your guardian angel is here,” yells Pantalini.
Mick rushes to the cell door only to fall back when he spots me. I grin at him. He blanches. That’s right, you little motherfucker. You should be scared of me.
“Where’s my sister?” Mick demands. “I don’t know who the fuck this is. I should only be released to my sister.”
“You’re nineteen, aren’t you?” Pantalini asks. He sticks his key into the lock.
Mick sticks his chin out. “Yeah, what of it?”
“Then I can release you to whomever I goddamned want. City doesn’t want to house you anymore.” Pantalini jerks the door open. “Time to get gone.”
Mick shuffles reluctantly out of the cell.
Pantalini claps me on the shoulder. “There’s no pussy worth a shit like this kid.”
The words are barely out of the dumb fuck's mouth when Mick spins and charges. I swing Pantalini out of the way with my right arm and block Mick with my left.
“Fuck you, you motherfucking pig,” Mick shouts. He pushes at my arm. He’s young and hasn’t bulked out to his true size yet, but rage propels him forward. “I’m gonna kill you, you piece of shit!”
“Watch your mouth, boy.”
I send a warning glare in Pantalini’s direction, and he backs down immediately. His gun and badge are the only things that give him courage, and while he has both at his disposal, it's a toss-up whether he'd get either out before Mick tore his face off.
“You’re a piece of shit, too,” Mick snarls at me. He wraps both hands around my wrist and tries to escape me.
Unfortunately for him, I’m a stone heavier and a decade more experienced. “If you had some decent training, you’d be free of me.”
His snarl turns dark. “I’ll be free of you now.” His knee comes up, and if my reflexes were a half second slower, I’d be on the floor with my family jewels somewhere near my throat. I block him and spin him around until his back is to my chest and his arm is twisted behind him.
Two officers appear around the corner. I shove Mick toward the exit.
“Is there a problem?” the older one asks. His companion’s blue uniform is so new, there’s still fold lines in the cotton.
Pantalini pipes up. “Yeah, this—“
“Mick was just ready to check out,” I interrupt. “Thanks.”
I shove the boy in the direction of the exit. For a moment, he digs his heels in. I move my hand to his neck and squeeze. “If you lay a finger on one of those officers, your sister will have to sell a kidney to get you out, so go get your shit or I’m leaving you in here until your dick withers from old age."
I toss him forward. He stumbles, catches himself, and sends me a glare dark enough to kill me twice over before walking out. I wait until the troupe disappears around the corner before shoving the piece of shit officer into the corner of the room and pressing my forearm to his windpipe.
“Not good, boy.” I calmly watch as Pantalini’s face turns red from lack of oxygen. When the shade of his face grows from red to blue, I ease up. No point in killing the guy even though we’re currently in the camera’s blind spot. “The only reason I’m not squeezing the life out of you is because you helped me process his discharge, but you don’t ever talk about his sister with that kind of disrespect.”
I release him and leave, not waiting for his acknowledgment. He either gets with the program or the next off-day, he’ll be calling for an ambulance.