By the time she arrives, my hands are clenching and unclenching into fists — knuckles popping loudly each time — and there’s a knot in my throat big enough that it’s hard to swallow.
Anna arrives in a style that is quintessentially her: with a large latte in her hands, three thick-necked dogs at her heels, and a smug smile on her face that makes me want to vomit. I can’t believe I let this bitch suck me off back in high school.
“Hi, Declan,” she says.
“Fuck you, Anna.”
“Nice to see you, Officer Jacobsen,” Howser says. “Been a while.”
“Yeah, you too, Howser,” the cop says.
“Where are my things? And how long do we have with him before any of your coworkers get back?” She says. She doesn’t even look at Officer Jacobsen — her eyes are glued to me like a ravenous hyena.
“I’m going to go take a walk, Ms. Ebri. Your files and laptop are there on the table. I’ll be gone for about an hour. That’s as long as I can give you,” the cop says. Then he pulls his nightstick and the cell keys from his pants and hands them over to the thug named Howser, who takes them both in his gloved hands. “Make sure you use this club on him. Keep it relatively clean. They won’t believe it's self-defense if you paint his brains all over the ceiling. You hear me?”
Anna shrugs. “Whatever. I just want this dealt with.”
After one last look, Officer Jacobsen leaves and shuts the door behind him with a heavy slam. Now, it’s just me, Anna, and her three lapdogs.
Howser takes the keys and slides them into the cell door. They turn with a heavy click.
I take a few steps back and settle into a boxer’s stance while the cell door slides open on its heavy hinges.
“Anna, I’ve never hit a woman, but if you don’t call off your fucking dogs, this will get real nasty for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “I pay these men to solve problems. You’re a problem. And now, I need you to go the fuck away, so I can get back to work.”
I keep my eyes on Howser and his buddies. They hesitate at the entrance to the cell. Neither of them has the balls to make the first move. I’m not surprised; they’ve got girth, but more than half of it is around their guts. They’re the kind of guys that would scare the average civilian into submission, but they haven’t had a proper fight in a long fucking time; they’re about to learn that they are way out of practice when it comes to taking someone’s life.
“You know, I don’t even give a shit that you’re ripping all these people off. Fuck, in a way, I’m impressed. All I care about is that you made the dumb-as-hell decision to go after my mom. So, I will give you a chance: leave her and Tiffany the fuck alone, and I’ll let you live.”
I want out of this cell.
I want to find Tiffany and my mom and make sure the both of them are OK.
That’s all that matters. I’ll humble myself again, even in front of Anna Ebri, if that’s what it takes.
“Thanks, Declan, that means a lot to me coming from a man who was a half-percentage point away from being a high school failure and who has a credit score that is so low it nearly broke a computer. Oh, not to mention a rap sheet more extensive than my stock portfolio. I’m truly touched you think so much of me. But you want to know what? I don’t fucking trust you. I would much rather have you dead. Thanks.”
“Fine, bring it. I’ve had a shit day and breaking a few ugly faces always cheers me up.”
Her men take it as the cue it is and work up the nerve to step into my cell. Howser hangs back, holding his club the same way I’d bet he grips his cock on a lonely night, while the other two advance side by side.
I wait. Fists ready, and heart so eager to spill some blood that I could nearly explode in anticipation.
The cell is small, and I use that to my advantage. It’s too tight for them to surround me, so I let them come forward, step by step, until they’re almost in reach. Then I strike.
The first one tries his luck with a winding roundhouse, pulling his fist way back and telegraphing the blow so blatantly that Samuel Morse would be proud.
I duck it, slipping under the blow and hitting him in the gut with a hook that doubles his fat ass over. An uppercut sends him reeling and I have just enough time to dodge an incoming punch from his companion. It whizzes by my face so close I feel a breeze and then I turn, cracking my fist into his grizzled double chin.
And I keep coming.
A jab sends him stumbling. An uppercut snaps his head back and leaves his chin dangling out as a nice, fat target. A hook catches him right in the sweet spot, and he goes slumping to the concrete floor of the cell.
Then pain erupts in my ribs. His companion bashes me with a lucky body blow and then puts two meaty paws on my shoulders, throwing his whole weight into me and shoving me hard against the back wall of the cell. My face hits the barred window, agony explodes
