What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

In the deep end

By the time Emory was on the road again, it was half past ten, and he was starving. He hadn't eaten since earlier in the evening, so he decided to stop at a fast-food restaurant downtown. Probably a McDonald's or something for the man of simplicity. 

Upon arrival, he noticed that the drive-through was shut down, so he'd have to go inside. He always hated going inside because most of the time, there were perverts hiding in the corners, getting drunk or jerking off. 

But it was worth it. Right now, at least. 

As he got out of his car, he noticed two officers he had never seen before posted up outside the front door. It probably would've been a smart move to go get food somewhere else, but Emory didn't seem to connect the dots of him being a newly wanted man and cops being right there. 

He made his way to the entrance, acting as if nothing was wrong while the officers conversed innocently. 

He was almost able to get in before he was unsurprisingly stopped. "Hey, aren't you Emory Rosewood?" One asked, taking a step closer to him as he narrowed his eyes. 

Emory paused, staring back for a second before blatantly lying, even though it wouldn't get him anywhere, only into more trouble if anything. "No," 

He went to take a step back, to return to the car, but the second officer had moved behind him, boxing him in. Looks like his only option here was to run. 

He took off through the practically empty parking lot, the cops taking a moment to register before setting off behind him.

Emory wasn't the fastest, but he wasn't slow either. Additionally, he had developed good stamina from running away from his problems. 

As he crossed the lot, he stopped for a second on the sidewalk in front of the oncoming traffic. To the right was a dead end, to the left was an area he didn't want to risk passing through. 

He'd end up infiltrating a gang's meeting, earning a bullet through his head. 

Without wasting another minute, he used his momentum to run through the street as soon as the previous car passed by him. After only two steps, he saw another car out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't stopped to check the traffic coming from the right; he only waited for the left side to clear. 

Luckily enough for him, the driver seemed to be skilled enough to hit the brakes instantly, leaving Emory untouched as they laid on the horn. The only other problem it caused was allowing the officers to get even closer. 

He moved around the car, continuing to run through the patch of grass on the other side of the road. He didn't have many options for where to go, so he turned into someone's lawn, grabbing hold of the seemingly seven-foot fence blocking the backyard in. 

He didn't slow his movements as he propelled himself upward, bracing his forearm against the top of the fence as he used his feet to scale it, pressing against the planks. 

He grunted slightly as he swung a leg over, dropping down onto the grass of the other side with a thud. 

Emory thought that that'd be enough to slow them down, except it only troubled him more as they began hopping the fence with ease, and Emory was boxed in. 

He took a few rushed steps further into the backyard, stepping on the concrete that surrounded a deep pool. 

He glanced over his shoulder as he slowed his steps, reluctantly turning around to face the officers as he realized he had nowhere left to go. 

Raising his hands slightly, he forced a laugh to try and break the tension. "We can talk this out, right?" 

They didn't laugh.