Page 119 of Vicious Little Snakes
Liam
“Liam Brooks, you’re out.”
My eyes dart up, scooting away from the drunk guy who’s using my shoulder as a pillow, and stand quickly. The metal bars slide open, and I let out my first official breath as I walk back into the world and out of the holding cell I’ve been sitting in since last night.
“Follow me.”
The cop waves me over to a counter, where I’m handed a Ziploc bag of my belongings and asked to sign some paperwork by a surly, rotund officer.
“Bail’s been made. Go to the doors.”
By who? Nobody knows I’m here. God, let it be Caroline by some form of sheer fucking luck.The same feeling I’ve had since last night blankets me again when I think about how pissed she’s going to be.
She’s going to slit my throat. I just need to explain before she grabs the knife.
Grumpy cop stamps some paperwork, not looking at me, as he shoves it my way, closing the file. But before I can ask what anything means, he’s already arguing about a Giants game with another cop. My head shifts around, unsure about what I’m supposed to do, still trying to get my bearings.
Yet another cop snaps his fingers at me, standing by a metal set of doors, so I grab my shit and head that way as they’re opened to a new hallway that leads to yet another set of doors. Those are opened as well, with a buzzing sound only to click behind me as I find myself standing in a lobby staring back at my father’s face.
“Liam.”
Aww, fuck.
“Tucker.”
He motions with his head before turning so that I follow. We walk silently, making our way out of the precinct to the waiting limo—parked in a red zone. The driver opens the door for my father, but I stand back as he slides inside.
“Get in the fucking car, Liam,” is bellowed from the shadows.
“No,” I say calmly as I unzip the bag and take out my wallet and watch. Putting one on my wrist and the other in my pocket before continuing.
“Let’s walk. I’ve been cooped up in one hell hole for most of the night. I’d like to be free of being stuck inside a small space with more bullshit.”
I barely finish my sentence before my father’s standing face-to-face with me, angry but compliant. He buttons his jacket, pointing to the driver.
“Take that.”
My head turns to see the driver walking back toward us, holding out a jacket for me. It’s the same trench I left in my own car before I’d gotten out last night.
My father clears his throat. “You’ll probably need this too at some point today.”
He’s pulling out my cell from his breast pocket.
I take it. As I toss my Ziploc in the back of the limo, I try to swipe my cell open, but the screen stays dull. Fuck, it’s dead.
Caroline’s going to be a goddamn mess—mean and hateful. With how mad I know she’ll be, I may have to hold her down to get her to listen. But first, I have to do this—my dad and I are long overdue.
Tucker tells the car to go back to our home since we aren’t too far. He looks at me for direction, so I turn and begin to walk down the sidewalk. It’s quiet outside, no people, only noise from the city because it’s only around six in the morning.
Neither of us speaks for almost a block. I know he’s wondering where to start too. But then his voice disrupts the peace.
“Why didn’t you call me, Liam? You get a phone call.”
He sounds almost hurt, and that takes me off guard. I exhale, putting my hands in my jacket pockets.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m a tragic story of technology—I couldn’t remember anyone’s number by heart. But honestly, you wouldn’t have been a call I’d have made.”
Tucker stops, attracting my attention as I slow my feet and shift to look at him.
