Page 74 of 2204 Hunter Lane
I pulled my ram to the side of the road and cut the ignition, slapping myself to try and stabilize my buzz.Sober up, damnit, fuck!
When two cops rapped on my window, I rolled down the glass, flashing a saccharine smile at the officers.
“Evenin’ fellas. How can I help you?”Levelled breaths, man. Steady.
The dark haired cop flashed a light in my truck, aiming it directly in my eyes. “Step out of the vehicle, sir.”
“I can assure you there’s got to be some sort of –”
“Out! Now!” The other cop ripped.
I held my hands up in surrender as I unlocked my baby, planting my feet down on the cement as I rounded the hood.
“We got word that you’re driving under the influence, that true?” The dark haired cop demanded, eyeing me up and down.
“Wrong.” I spat, coughing out the congested air in my lungs.Who the fuck ratted on me?
“Can you confirm that your licence plate number is,” he looked down at a piece of paper, “923 – N72?”
I swallowed hard, thankful that the night sky blocked out the evident redness in my cheeks.
“That’s right, but I’m not –”
“Take him.” The officer said to his partner, a scrawny blonde man who I could’ve easily pounded with one fist to the jaw.
But obeying my better judgment, I understood that the charge I’d be receiving would be lighter in comparison to aggravated assault on an officer.
As they escorted me to the cop car and guided me into the backseat, I sat in silence as my brain screamed.
An influx of questions accumulated in my skull, thoughts and concerns of the worst possible outcome. I’d never been to jail, fuck I’d avoided this for years and never got caught.
I swear to fuck if someone from Cid’s ratted on me cause of that fight, some goddamn bystander who didn’t know the half of what I’d been through – but how… how did anyone know my licence plate number? Who the fuck would’ve paid any attention to…
Flashes of painful reminders bore into my brain; Bambi helping me tune up my truck, loading tool kits into the bed, laughing in my passenger seat as she reorganized my glove compartment.
Bambi.
She knew my licence plate. She was the only one. She tried to stop me from driving off.
She…
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I clipped the tip of my tongue, my nails digging into the creases of my palm.
A sharp pain lodged itself in my chest at the realization of what I knew was true.
Bambi was responsible for my current position.
Bambi put me in the back of a cop car.
Bambi…
She was exactly what I knew her to be.
And now, she was a memory to burn.
???
My chest heaved as I rested my head against the cold concrete walls of the holding cell.
