“She’s seventeen. Can’t make her do shit, you hear me?” Johnny states, then points to the door. “Restraining order, so now you got nowhere to live, and when the judge asks where you work, what are you gonna say? ‘I smash people up in abandoned warehouses while others stand around and watch’? It’s fucking illegal.”
I am pissed, so fucking pissed, I should have just snatched her up and shoved her in my fucking pocket. “Nah, man, I got a job. I’m a motherfucking astronaut. Just got back from the moon last night. Shit looks good up there.”
“Last time, you told the judge you were a fucking ob-gyn apprentice, and that got you a week in county.”
I look at Hendrix. “Do I have a place to live?”
“Of course you do.” Hendrix nods.
“I work here, right?”
“Yeah, man, you do. Call me after your photo shoot and fingerprints. I’ll be down to pick you up.” Hendrix smirks as he shakes his head.
I walk outside and have to laugh. I mean, fuck, what else can I do? I’m going to jail because I tried to do the right thing. Momma would be proud, though. I did good. I am her legacy.
I rub my tattoo as I hop in the back of the squad car and chuckle again. “It’s like you’re my own personal driver, Johnny.”
He shakes his head and I know he’s trying his best not to smile. “Only you, Jagger, only you.”
This isn’t my first ride in the back of Johnny’s patrol car, and I can’t promise it will be my last, but at least he doesn’t bother with the cuffs anymore. I sit back and see my old man and Lola walking out of the alley with garbage bags. I give him the old one-finger salute and he gives it back.
Good riddance, fucker.
“You gonna leave it alone?” I hear Johnny ask.
“What?”
“The kid, the old man, your old man? You gonna start trying to think of yourself someday, Jag, your future?”
“Not sure,” I answer honestly.
“You’re not Batman, or some sort of vigilante, you are a mere mortal, like the rest of us,” he says as he pulls out onto the street. When I don’t answer he sighs loudly. “You gotta leave it alone.”
“Mhm.”