Hit And Sprint

one

I crack my knuckles, watching an extremely preoccupied meth-head with mild entertainment. The man looked like he had been put in a grave last week, his only sign of life being the constant twitching and occasional word that he said to the grumpy police officer in front of him.

"Maybe we should bounce," I hear. The voice is coming from beside me, in a hushed tone.

My eyebrows furrow slightly as I shoot the man that said such a hard stare. "I wanna see how this one plays out, Roy. Whatcha think they're gonna do, take you to jail with fuckin' Tweaky over there?" I couldn't help but give a self-approving chuckle, shaking my head and continuing to watch the officer.

"That's not what I'm talkin' bout," he returns, shoving my shoulder to get my attention, then jerking his head to the right.

I follow his motion with my eyes, landing on a bulky man with his gaze set directly on me.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be ridiculous," I titter, giving a haphazard eye roll and rising from my seat. "I'm sure this is all in good company." I nod to the unfamiliar man, then glance to the alley space about a yard from where I was stood.

He takes the hint with ease, cutting around the corner and heading down the alley.

I look back, noticing that Roy was still sat on the wooden park bench from which I had risen. He stares at me with apprehension, clearly not liking the looks of the man I was going to speak with.

I give him a challenging glare, considering calling him a pussy, but not wanting to draw any attention. The sidewalk wasn't as crowded as it could've been, but people were still scattered here and there.

I understood his worry, considering the man probably had close to a hundred pounds on him, most of it being muscle weight. By no means was Roy a twig, but stronger men existed, and that intimidated him. I, on the other hand, wouldn't think anything of it as long as there was a glock resting on my hip.

We have a back and forth argument with our eyes, up until Roy gives in, standing up and approaching me. "Ice, did you see that guy?"

"Yeah, I'm not thinking that he's bulletproof," I coolly return, beginning to walk, with him falling slightly behind my steps.

Rounding the corner into the alley, I don't immediately spot the man that we had just seen. "Hm, smart one," I muse, assuming he had gone fully behind the building.

Roy is almost dead silent, either uncomfortable or simply unable to find something witty to say. Most likely, both.

We walk even farther, eventually hitting the back of the building.

I look to my left, seeing the large man again, this time shaded by the unfortunate lighting. He was about six feet tall, wearing an ill fitting white button-up and khakis. He looked perfectly non-threatening to me, but that was probably just from what I saw in his expression.

"Well, g'morning," I sardonically say, greeting the man with a nod. Leaning against the back wall of the building, I question whether or not that would be enough to get him talking.

"Leo Coldwell?" he asks, sounding genuinely unsure. God, was he nervous.

I give him an assuring half-smile, returning, "Nice to meet you." When he reaches out for a hand shake, I draw my head to the right and hold up my open palm as a warning. "Mm, don't touch me."

I can sense Roy shooting me a look, and I'm sure that he would've said, "Don't poke the bear," if we had been alone.

Regardless, the man seems apologetic for offering the shake. "Sorry," he mutters, running the hand he had reached out through his hair. "I, uh, I heard about you from Rob Morrison. Do you know him?" He wouldn't meet my eyes, no matter what.