Knockout Boys

Chapter 26: Knockout Boys

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to @strawberry9090 who helped me out with it! And thank you to all my readers for your encouragement :)

A shrill scream woke me. I jumped upright, my heart racing. Kevin's eyes blinked open sleepily, and I couldn't hold back a smile at seeing him, but the warm feelings faded as my waking brain realized the situation was critical.

"Rocky Apollo!" screeched my mother, her face paper white as she flung the door open.

"Mom! Ever heard of knocking?"

"Who is that? Oh my God!" she charged forward, shoving me aside to yank back my blankets to behold a half-naked Kevin.

Kevin was redder than I'd ever seen. He hastily sat up, bunching the blankets over himself, and glared at me, as if this was all my fault. Kevin and I hadn't even showered, we were so tired last night, still grimy and bloody. My mother's glare of death and bared teeth told me I was doomed. I glanced between her and Kevin, desperately racking my brains for an excuse. "Kevin needed a place to stay. It's not what you think!"

"In my house!" she screamed, tears rolling from her cheeks. "Under my roof!"

My father came in the room, bags under his eyes. His jaw dropped when he saw Kevin. Shaking his head, he turned around and walked out.

My mom threw her hands up in the air. "This is so disrespectful." She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, her glare was murderous. "We will discuss this later," she snapped. "After you explain why there is a police officer in my living room!"

My heart sped up, choking my throat. "What?" I gasped. My head spun, thinking they must've caught Paul, or discovered videos of the fight. Crap. I jumped out of bed and threw on a clean shirt and tossed an oversized one to Kevin.

Kevin groaned. "Why the fuck did she let them in?" he muttered, but he followed me and my mom downstairs. Dad was talking to the policeman in our living room, and I involuntarily glanced to my coat with Paul's disassembled gun wrapped inside. I bit my lip, knowing I had to hand it over, though the circumstances were suspicious at best.

"Rocky Apollo Smith?" the officer asked. There were dark bags under his eyes, and frown lines around his mouth.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "That's me."

"We have been informed you are in possession of a firearm belonging to Jonathan Morrow," he said the name of Paul's father. "You were last seen carrying it away from the scene."

"Um, yes, that is correct, sir," I said. "It's there," I pointed to my coat, ignoring my mom's horrified gasp. "I was planning on turning it in." My voice started shaking. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to get home, and I didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands. I was gonna turn it in, I promise, sir," I babbled on.

The officer put on gloves to pick up the gun and place it carefully in a plastic bag. "Alright," he said with a sigh. "I'm glad we found this before another incident occurred. Last night was a close call."

I swallowed. "Did you arrest Paul?"

His mouth formed a thin line. "That is not your concern."

"I mean, is he..." Alive? "..safe?" I pleaded with my eyes. I needed an answer, just to know Paul was okay, that nothing horrible happened.

The officer's expression softened slightly. "He is unharmed," he said. He turned to leave, but looked back. "And son, for your own good, do not get involved in any organized fights again."