Page 5 of Whatever You Need

“You a 76ers fan?” I asked the kid on the end who was wearing a Ben Simmons jersey.

“I live in south Philly, whaddya think?”

“I live in Philly too,” I pointed out, “and I’m a Lakers Fan.”

“You a LeBron fan too?” he asked, looking me over, not sure what to think.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I don’t like bandwagon fans who jump from team to team just because they gain or lose a player. Plus, LeBron ain’t got nothing on Kobe.” He smirked, and I knew I had him at that moment.

Philadelphia fans hated LeBron James. With Kobe Bryant growing up right outside the city in lower Marian County, he had a giant local fan base. He was our hometown boy, and we mourned his loss hard when he died in that helicopter crash. True fans stayed loyal to the teams, no matter what. I wanted to present myself as someone who was loyal. Someone that they could trust.

One of the biggest hurdles cops faced today was convincing parts of society that they weren’t the bad guys. Sure, we had our fair share, and the ones that did abuse their power deserved everything they got. Most of us just wanted to protect and serve.

The leader jumped off the wall, stood tall, and rose to his full height. He was probably an inch taller than me, but I still outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. “You guys keep asking questions about that warehouse. We don’t know nothing about it because we didn’t have shit to do with it.”

I stepped closer, ignoring his attitude. I knew acting tough and staying quiet was the way they survived on the streets. It didn’t make them bad kids; they were just defensive around cops. They assumed that we already thought they were guilty of something. It was ingrained in their heads since they were born, and thanks to a few shitty cops, I had to work harder to change their perception.

“I have no reason to believe that you had anything to do that. I was just wondering if you guys had seen anything.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t got no answers for you. And we sure as fuck don’t want no trouble. So, whatever you’re hoping to find, you ain’t going to find it here.”

“I believe you’re telling the truth,” I said, looking him straight in the eye and extending my business card. “But if something changes and any of you want to talk, here is my info.”

It didn’t surprise me that none of them accepted the card. “All right then.” I smiled and slid the card back in my pocket. “You boys be safe.”

I tucked my tail between my legs and walked back to my car. I wish I had more time to spend getting to know these kids so I could convince them to trust me. I wasn’t one of the bad guys who would fuck them over. If someone helped me out, I had their back. I knew that they didn’t choose this life and most just wanted to protect their family. I admired them for that, but I couldn’t force them to talk to me.

On the way home, I took a last-minute detour. For some reason, I found myself driving by a brick brownstone in a much trendier neighborhood than Nicetown. Amelia West was the highlight of my fucked-up night. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been on a call like that. It was times like tonight where I missed being on patrol. When I first started, I got a thrill from breaking up bar fights and handing out traffic violations. I was young and felt like king shit on Turd Island in my uniform. But as I matured, my taste for justice grew more intense and I needed more of a challenge. I loved being a detective, but going home to an empty house after a long grueling day was getting old fast.

I didn’t know why I was searching for Amelia since she was long gone by now. Even though our interaction was brief, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I’ve been attracted to women before, but never like this. Not even close. It was three hours and four dead bodies later and she was still in my head. How crazy was that? I needed to shut these thoughts down. The cost of her designer purse alone was enough of a reminder that she was way out of my league. Amelia West and I had nothing in common. So why the hell did my tired brain keep resisting the urge to look her up?

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