Page 5 of Her Dirty Rival
One man stops in front of me. “The police are on their way,” he shouts, trying tointimidateme.
Like I’m supposed to be surprised that they’d call in thecavalry.
I lift my bullhorn to his face and repeat my spiel. He doesn’t like that too much. He tries to yank the megaphone from my hand. At least three or four dozen people are gathered around now, and more are approaching by the minute. Some cheer, some shout profanity, and others just stand and watch, waiting to see if anything escalates. They are the ones with smartphones raised in the air, capturing theaction.
I didn’t expect this guard to try and pry the megaphone from my hands, but I’m not too disappointed at how it looks. The optics, pure perfection for this big, ripped man imposing his will on me, the little, seemingly innocent redhead. The bullhorn falls out of my hands when the guard gets tired of trying and pushes me to the ground out of frustration. My tailbone hits the concrete. My fall brings down the entire group in one cascading wave of human dominoes. I yowl in pain but inside, I’m doing cartwheels. It’s going better than I thought, thanks to Biff the Rent-a-Cop.
Too bad someone has the police on speed-dial. Either that, or crime in Manhattan is at an all-time low and the men in blue just don’t have anything else to do this afternoon. Four cruisers and a prisoner transport van roll up. The supportive section of the crowd boos as the cops push their way through to us. One man with them—I presume he’s a serviceman and not a cop—quickly uses a pair of bolt cutters to remove the chain on the doors. More booing and jeerserupt.
Several cops push the onlookers aside, ordering them to disperse. The guy with the bolt cutters begins to work on our chains. An officer reaches down and helps me to my feet. He could have been rougher, but I’m satisfied that we made our point in the eight or nine minutes of airtime we’regiven.
I’m carted off down the steps to the paddy wagon, and almost at the same time, a stretch limousine drives up. For a split second, as the officer motions for me to step up into the back of the van, I’m face to facewithhim.
MalcolmAlexander.
