Page 41 of Balls to the Walls


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“I knew it!” I laughed, leaning back against the door as I draped my arm over the seat. “Not that I’m happy you went through that, but I knew you loved me.”

“I don’t love you.”

“Come on. Just a little?” I asked, pinching my thumb and forefinger together.

He rolled his eyes, about to shift into drive when we heard the siren behind us. I looked out the back window and cringed. Shit, this was not good.

“Great. Just fucking great. Let me do the talking,” he muttered.

“No problemo,” I answered, trying to adjust the towel to cover myself a little more.

I heard the crunch of the officer’s boots as he approached my window. It wasn’t uncommon for officers to approach the passenger side to avoid getting hit by traffic. This just wasn’t the day for any of this to happen. Cash rolled down the window and gave a two finger wave.

“Officer.”

The man removed his sunglasses and let his eyes slide over my body. “Son, is there a reason you’re only in a towel?”

I laughed. “Actually, there is. See, we were getting massages—totally platonically—and he got mad at me. See, I hurt his feelings because I had to fake my death. And he was mourning my loss, and all the time I was alive. It was for the greater good, though. So, when I came back to life and had to explain where I was, things got a little intense. We had a bit of a spat, and he ran out of our massage. I had to chase him, but we’re working it out now.”

I grinned up at the officer, hoping that would appease him.

He continued to stare at me, and that good feeling inside of me started to sink. “Are you on drugs?”

“No, I don’t take drugs. I mean, if we’re being honest, there was this one time that I almost had a secondary inhale of marijuana. Yeah, I swear I was hallucinating just from almost having it. No, I never touched the stuff after that happened.”

He cocked his head, looking past me to Cash. “Is he serious?”

“Not at all,” Cash said, throwing me under the bus.

“Hey—”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”

“But—”

“Sir, I won’t ask again. Step out of the vehicle,” he said, drawing his taser.

“I didn’t take anything! And I’m not some crazy person. We really did have a fight. My wife is back at the spa right now! She can attest to everything!”

“You went for a spa day with your wife and this guy?” he asked. “Get out of the vehicle now.”

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the door open and got out, still holding my towel.

“Sir, release your hand if you don’t want to get shot.”

“But it’s holding up my?—”

“I won’t ask again! Put your hands down!”

Sighing, I let go of my towel. Thankfully, it stayed up the whole time.

“Now, I’m gonna need you to walk ten paces toward my car and then back.”

I flinched back at that. “You want me to do a sobriety test?”

“This will go much faster if you just follow my orders.”

Maybe I should have stayed gone. At least then I would have the satisfaction of knowing Cash was suffering. I started walking, but kept stepping on sharp rocks. My balance was all off as I tried and failed to avoid cutting up my feet.

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