Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Fuck you. You owe us rent.” He swung and connected with Z’s shoulder hard enough to have him stumbling back against the wall. Carl hissed and shook his hand, giving Z an opening. He lunged with a grunt and hit Carl full force, toppling him backward. Clumsy because of his ankle and still wobbly because of all the alcohol, Z didn’t have the balance to stay upright. He fell too and landed right on top of Carl, who grunted at the sudden pressure.
“Stop it,” Mrs. Duncan said. “Leave my son alone.”
Z and Carl continued to fight awkwardly, each landing the occasional blow but neither getting any real contact. Eventually though, Carl rolled to pin Z to the ground. A viciously triumphant smile spread across his whole face just as one of his beefy paws flew down to collide with Z’s cheekbone.
The sting made Z’s eyes water and he twisted just enough to curl into a semi-ball before Carl’s fist came down again, this time near his spine.
The front door burst open and with it came a gust of cooling wind.
“Everybody freeze,” a voice shouted.
Z peeked open his eyes just in time to see a uniformed police officer grab Carl and force him to his stomach with his hands behind his back. A pair of shiny cuffs were slapped around his wrists.
“No, not my son. He was just protecting me.” Mrs. Duncan’s pleas went ignored.
But before Z could feel even a tiny bit of relief a second cop pulled him to his feet and gave him his own set of silver bracelets.
* * *
“I told you, they illegally changed the lock on my door,” Z said for the hundredth time since the cop had shoved him into the chair. He was craving a smoke so bad his hand shook. “I just wanted the key.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Seriously?” Z lifted his chin, leaned back and spread his legs like he was comfortable as fuck.
“Answer the question, Mr. Hayes.”
“Listen, it was late. I had a bad day.”
“And you’re drunk.”
He lifted a shoulder. “If you say so.”
The cop squinted at him. “So you went downstairs and then what happened?”
“I went over this with the other guy.”
Officer Uptight’s jaw clenched so hard it bulged and Z smirked.
“What happened next?” the cop repeated through his teeth.
“I politely knocked on Mrs. Duncan’s door and asked her to let me back into my apartment. Her asshole son came home and hit me. I fought back. We wrestled. He pinned me to the ground. You and your partner came in and handcuffed me for no fucking reason.” He lifted a brow as if to say, Happy?
The cop just scribbled on the file he was filling out.
“Can I go home now?” Z asked.
This time the cop smirked. “You won’t be going anywhere tonight, Mr. Hayes. Right now my partner is taking statements from Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. I’m pretty sure we both know what they are saying.”
Z sat up straight and glowered. “What the hell does that mean?”
“They will, no doubt, press charges.”
“They’re the ones who broke the law by locking me out. What are you going to do about that?”
The cop eyed him up and down. “I’m issuing you a citation for public intoxication, disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct and assault.”
“Fuck this.” Z stood awkwardly and slapped a palm on the desk. “I was defending myself.” He didn’t care if he was shouting, the station was mostly empty anyway. The only people there this late were drunks, hookers and the miserable officers who had to manage them. Including the bigoted asshole sitting in front of him.
“Sit down.”
“No. I want that fucker arrested and I want the keys to get back into my apartment.”
The officer stood slowly. Right then Z missed his heels so much. They would have given him the height he needed to meet this prick’s eyes and a sense of power that would have kept his spine stiff. But he was wearing his Converse high-tops so he was forced to look up and it pissed him off.
“Sit down, Mr. Hayes, or I will arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
Z scoffed. “You’re all the same, you know. Fucking God complexes working your own agenda. I may be just a queer piece of shit to you, but I know my rights.” He sat. “I want a lawyer.”
Officer Uptight’s nostrils flared but before he could speak, another voice interrupted from over Z’s shoulder.
“Is there a problem here, Briggs?”
Z immediately recognized that voice. It made his body come alive like rain after a drought and filled him with shame at the same time. He’d been trying so hard to forget that voice, to forget what he’d given up, to plaster the shit out of that stupid hole in his defenses with ten thousand layers of brick and cement. He couldn’t see Connelly now. Not ever again. He wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes. He wouldn’t be able to tell him good-bye face-to-face.