As soon as I got close to his place, I knew I shouldn’t be there. It was way the hell on the other side of town— that was the first thing. The twerp was way off his turf, hitting that bar and ending up in the tank with the rest of us. No wonder his friends were crying their eyes out; the dumb shits were probably scared stiff.
Not this one, though; I’d give him that. He’d had it all worked out and cut himself loose, no sweat. If he was scared, he fooled me.
He tapped the top of my helmet and pointed left when we got to a set of lights. A ways back, the streets got cleaner; then they got dug out; then they got plowed. Now there were even little green trees in a row right down the goddamned sidewalk. The road was smooth, as though it had been paved not too far back, and all four lanes were packed full of sports and luxury jobs full of uptight snobs. All down the walk, it was long coats, shiny shoes, and leather gloves. Every guy looked like he ran a bank, and every woman looked like she was on TV. All of them looked at me like I was the worst piece of shit they’d ever seen.
When I looked back at Luis, he was smiling. He was getting a kick out of the whole thing, but I wasn’t. At the light I thought about gunning the engine and giving those assholes something to get tweaked about, but I was tired. I just wanted to dump him, pee, and get the hell out of there.
“How much farther?” I yelled back at him. The light turned red, and I rolled to a stop.
“We’re almost there!”
When I looked back at the walkway, a bunch of people looked away. Right then, I caught the blues in my rearview.
The light turned, but before I even got a chance to move, I got waved over by a cop on a bike as he cruised down the edge of the walk. When he was on top of us, he chirped the siren.
“It’s us!” Luis yelled.
“No shit, asshole.” I pulled off and he came up alongside me, while another one rode over to back him up. Just like that, there were two cops in my face.
“Sir, cut your engine!” the first one yelled. I cut it while the other one walked over, talking in his radio.
“Remove your helmet, please, sir,” he said.
I pulled it off, then planted it in Luis’s gut, and he grabbed it. The cop saw my face and frowned.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he corrected. His eyes did a sweep up and down me, looking for metal. They stopped on my left tit.
“What’s in your jacket?” he asked, still staring. He’d found the lined inside pocket, but he couldn’t see in.
“Nothing,” I said. “What’s the problem?”
“What’s in your jacket?”
“My ID.”
“Your ID should be readable at all times,” he said. “Remove it, please.”
Keeping my hands where they could see them, I unzipped halfway and reached in slow, then pulled the ID from between my two pairs of brass knuckles. He watched closely while his buddy stood in back of him like he was his goon.
“What’s the problem?” I asked, holding up the card. He stared at it for a second.
“You’re from Bullrich Heights?”
“Is that a crime?”
“Ms. Flax, what is your business in this area?” he asked.
“Is it against the law for me to be here?”
“What is your business in this area?”
“Just visiting.”
“Isn’t it a little late in the season to be riding a motorcycle?”
“You’re riding one.”
His eyes started moving across the bike, then made their way back to my jacket pocket.
“Step off the bike, please.”
“What, are you kidding me?”
“Step off—”
“Sir?” Luis piped up. They looked over at him.
“Sir, I’m Luis Valle.”
“I got your information,” he said. “Weren’t you in jail not two hours ago?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “It was a misunderstanding and I was released. I couldn’t get in touch with my parents, and I didn’t have fare or a rail pass. This woman was nice enough to give me a lift, that’s all. She’s just helping me out.”
The cop stared at me for a little longer, then back at him.
“Really,” he said. “She’s just taking me home, and that’s it.”
He sighed and waved to his goon, who turned and went back to his bike, talking into his radio.
“I’m not going to write you up for the ID violation or the helmet violation for your passenger,” he said. “And I’m going to pretend I didn’t see your trick pocket there, miss. From now on, keep your ID where it can be scanned, and if you’re going to ride two to a bike, then both of you need helmets. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Luis said.
“You take him straight home,” the cop said. “Then you turn around and go back where you came from. Understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Move along.”
He and his goon got on their bikes and took off, and I grabbed back my helmet and put it on. They were two blocks off when I fired my engine back up and left a strip on their pretty goddamn road and a cloud of blue smoke in their pretty goddamn air.
“Sorry about—” Luis started to say.
“Shut the hell up,” I shot back. “And keep your mouth shut the rest of the way!”
He had some sense, since that’s what he did. He just tapped and pointed until we got to his street.
“Nice place,” I said when we rolled up.
“Thanks.”
He hopped off and jumped up and down to warm up.
“Can I use your john?”
“Huh?”
“I need to pee.”
“Oh,” he said, looking up at his building. “Um …”
“Jesus, never mind.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I just don’t know if my mom—”
“You live with your parents?”
His face went red and he frowned.
“It’s just for college. The rent—”
“Uh-huh.”
“It doesn’t make me a pussy.”
“Look, can I pee here or not?”
“Fine.”
I followed him up the steps to the front door, where he flashed his ID at the security eye. It blinked and flashed a white light at us.
“Hello, Luis Valle, second class,” it said. “Who is your guest?”
“A friend.”
“ID please.”
I pulled out my ID and showed it.
“Hello, Calliope Flax, third class,” it said. “Mr. Valle, due to multiple violations including assault, illegal possession of a weapon, public drunkenness, and speeding, your guest is considered a medium-high security risk
