Page 37 of Rooke
NINETEEN
THE MUSEUM
ROOKE
“Boy, I swear to god, if you do not get back, I am going to Taze you in the motherfucking face. Is that what you want?”
I slam my fist against the police barricade that’s been set up to create a perimeter around the museum, openly snarling. I’ve lost my bag somewhere along with my headphones but I don’t give a shit about that right now. I give a shit about Sasha. I give a shit about nothing else. “Do me a favor, asshole. Fucking try it. You think I haven’t been Tazed before?” The god’s honest truth is that I’ve been Tazed more times than I care to remember. The first few months in juvi were tough. It goes without saying that I was fucking furious that I was in there; every time a fight kicked off or kids started causing shit, I was right there, smack bang in the middle of it all, blowing off steam. My body is well used to the rollercoaster of a two-pronged police issue stun gun. It’s not a particularly fun ride, but I’ll line up for that shit all day long if it means they’ll give me some information about the situation inside the museum.
The cop on the other side of the barricade narrows his eyes at me. “Donotfuck with me. I’ve had a shitty morning, and this bullshit is making it even worse. I will take you into custody if that’s what you want.”
I don’t want that. If he takes me away, I won’t be able to see if it is Sasha that’s being held inside the building. I have her phone number—it was inside that book she dropped back at the museum—but she’s not picking up. Oscar had her home number but that’s ringing out, too, so I have no idea where she is. She could be at Trader Joe’s doing her weekly grocery shop.She could be at a yoga class. Or she could be kneeling on the ground with the muzzle of a gun digging into the base of her skull. The not knowing is driving me crazy.
I ran across the bridge earlier. I fuckingranthrough the streets of Manhattan until I arrived out front of the museum and I forced my way through the already considerable crowd, straining to see what the fuck was going on. I called Jake and told him to get his ass down here, but he hasn’t shown up yet. I feel trapped. I feel like my hands are tied behind my back, and I can’t fuckingdoanything. I don’t know why I’m filled with this level of panic, but it’s hard to fucking breathe around it, and I’m on the verge of losing my shit.
On this police officer.
Right now.
“Just tell me,” I grind out. “Who is inside the building?”
“Ihavealready told you. We do not know who is inside the building. We’re trying to ascertain that information right now. But guess what? Even when wedoknow who’s in there, we sure as fuck aren’t gonna tell you, kid. Now clear the barricade before I lose my goddamn patience.”
Boy. Kid. If he calls me either of these things one more fucking time, I am going to destroy him. They’ll need a phenomenal set of dental records to identify him by the time I’m through. I am going to break his nose. I am going to beat him black and blue. I’m going to—
“Rooke! Rooke, man, what the fuck is going on?” A hand lands on my shoulder. The contact startles me, and I spin around, ready to start thrashing whoever is touching me. It’s Jake. He holds up his hands, reeling back from me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude. Chill.”
“Do you know this punk?” the cop asks.
Jake nods. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then do him a favor and get him out of here before he does something stupid.”
I’m about to vault over the barrier and head butt the fucker, but Jake grabs me by the back of the shirt and pulls me back. I try to fight my way free, but with so many people pressing in from all sides, pushing and shoving angrily at me, it’s impossible. I let him tug me back through the crowd, growling obscenities under my breath. Once we’re clear, Jake rounds on me, glaring with a furious intensity. “Are you fucking crazy, dude? Trying to start a fight with a cop? You have a record, or have you forgotten all about that? Mess up like that and it won’t be juvi for you. It will be big boy jail, asshole.”
“Big boy jail,” I repeat. “Yeah. Very grown up. It’s not my fault that guy was being a prick. I just asked for information. He was being a cunt.”
“He wasn’t being a cunt. He was being a cop.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “It’s their job to secure the building. What do you think would happen if they just let every one of these gawking motherfuckers inside to take a look around? Do you think that would make the situation inside there better or worse?”
I stare at him for a moment then let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Okay. Sorry, you’re right. What am I supposed to do, though? She could be in there.”
“Who?”
“Sasha.” It’s infuriating that he hasn’t figured that out already. He knows she works at the museum.
“Ahh. Right. Yeah, well, do youknowit’s her in there?”
“No, I don’t know for sure that it is. But it is.”
“Why don’t you just calm down? It could be some fucking dude in there for all you know. It could be—”
“There she is! Look! Over there!”
