With that they left, and the three of us sat there silently for a few long moments.
“If this gets out, I’ll kick both of your asses,” The Chief rumbled.
I smiled down at my hands before standing. “I’ll get it done on my part. Luke, you gonna talk to the Wardens?”
Luke nodded and stood, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, I got it.”
With that, we all split up, me heading to Free, and Luke heading to Louisiana.
It was going to be a long rest of the day.
Chapter 9
Dear teenagers, complaining about life is like a toddler complaining about nap time. You’ve only seen the tip of the monster’s dick. Just fucking wait!
-Michael’s secret thoughts
Michael
“Get up off the floor or I’ll make you get up,” I growled at the stupid teenager who’d tried to boost my truck.
I’d had that bastard stolen twice, or nearly, in the same fuckin’ day, and this time I was not amused.
“I didn’t do anything!” The boy yelled, refusing to move.
With no other options, I moved the boy myself, all under the crowd’s watchful eyes as they watched the entire thing take place.
Rolling him over onto his back I stared down at him in contempt.
“What did you think you were going to do? How far did you think you could get? You nearly stole a police officer’s truck,” I hissed. “Not to mention I have GPS on it that I could’ve activated. Then there’s the fact that every cop in the city would be looking for you because you don’t steal something from a cop without consequences. You’d have every single cop in the state looking for your dumbass. Not get the fuck up off the ground and go sit on the fuckin’ bench like I asked you.”
He did.
Reluctantly.
Very reluctantly.
The boy was fifteen, at most, with an attitude that said he usually got whatever the fuck he wanted.
Well not fucking today.
I’d walked into the convenience store to get my receipt, but decided that I could use a Gatorade while I was in there.
When I turned the corner of the snack aisle, I came upon the fifteen year old shoving candy bars down his pants.
He wasn’t even being conspicuous about it.
They were so full already that you could see the large bulge, as well as the orange wrappers sticking out the top of his pocket.
Then he ran.
I had to give it to the boy, he was quick.
He’d made it past me and into the parking lot before I’d even pushed out the door toward him.
Lucky for me, and unlucky for him, I’d caught him at my truck.
All he’d seen was a truck running with the windows down.
Sadly, I still had the keys in my hand and had turned the truck off before he could even get it into drive.
He’d looked at me like I was the grim reaper, as he should since he’d been sitting in my truck.
Then he tried to bail out the other side’s window, but only managed to fall on his face.
“Why’d you steal those?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of candy bars and bottle of milk that was in a pile at his feet.
He shrugged.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
A cruiser’s chirp-chirp of the siren going on and off quickly had me looking up as Miller, another member of the SWAT team, pulled up.
He stepped out of the cruiser and moved his glasses up to the top of his head.
“Saint,” Miller said, nodding his head.
I nodded back, choosing not to call him on the use of the nickname that I hated.
I was not a saint.
Far from it, in fact.
Now wasn’t the time or place for it, though.
“What’cha got, Saint?” Miller asked, taking in the scene.
“Fifteen or sixteen year old male stealing candy from the 7-11. I caught him red handed, and he ran. Tried to get away fast by taking my truck, but he didn’t make it far. And here we are now. He was just about to tell us his name,” I explained lightly.
Miller nodded. “What’s your name, boy?”
The boy glared at Miller with all the heat and venom a fifteen year old could muster.