Pointed Gun

Kiss her goodnight for Me.

Ryder

HEAVY PATTED steps echoed the halls far from where I could see. Not knowing whether or not those glorious words I hoped for would finally be spoken to me in a heartwarming manner. Or just someone else to crack a laugh at the sour-faced fucker behind the bars for the tenth time tonight.

Most of the nights dreadful time began just like this. Frowning at overly excited officers through silver bars as they passed by and chuckled. Watching me starve while they enjoyed their sixth donut and cups of coffee every hour on the hour like clockwork.

Smirking a 'You alright in there bud?' just to win a few slaps on the back from their fellow douche bag colleges. Police officers are the embodiment of assholes. Lonely, no life assholes.

I'd hand-counted the seconds until I could stroll right on out of here.

My skin instantly tightened as the stomping of urgent feet was audible but the body making all the ruckus was nowhere to be found. The building fairly quiet for the most part, if one got around all the taunting I endured for the last four or so hours of my dragging night.

I couldn't forget how everything went down. A quiet individual minding his own business as he always did on most nights. A normal human being living it up on this boring Thursday night for the hell of it. Stuffing my mouth full of grub instead of hovering over a fat stack of almost overdue contracts that screamed for my absolute attention. Not to mention the sweet pool of women where I often enjoyed my meals trying to distract me from my one and only true love in life.

A greasy bacon cheeseburger.

I miss that sexy, unhealthy body already.

On lesser important thoughts, I usually had some help dealing with the demand for our services on a daily. Not having the hassle of everyone's problems sitting on only my shoulders. We all knew Gavin was no good for anything. He was fairly new so he didn't know the ropes well enough.

Such an airhead.

That was beside the point. Since Boston's been too damn busy slacking the hell off and enjoying the good life, I must take over the load and become the new him, but better.

Of course.

Seconds go by and frankly, I forgot what the hell I was supposed to preparing for. Actually taking a single moment to think distracted me from sweet words I dreamed to hear. That all vanished when an incredibly tall man dressed in army camo and a strap of a weapon draped across his shoulders approached the barred cell door.

A bit out of place for a police station. You didn't usually see this type of treatment around here unless you were special. And by special I mean planted a bomb in the lobby of your workplace special. I wonder what the occasion must be.

His smug face wore nothing but an empty stare that—if I'm being honest—traded my irritation for uncomfortableness in a blink of an eye.

Man, this man is intense!

"An agent would like to speak with you." I should've expected his voice to be as deep as his death stare was into my soul.

An agent? Speaking with me? All of a sudden, I felt like I was about to receive the star treatment.

All mental jokes aside, that didn't actually sound good. I could only think of one reason why an uptight agent would want to get his hands on me first. Maybe to recruit me to the dark side of shooting at people legally and being the one who always asked the questions.