Ivan stares at his father hoping for something that says I’m wrong, but I’m not.
I smirk, letting the silence hang for a beat before I twist the knife. “Or who knows… maybe I’ll follow in your dad’s footsteps. All this quality time we spend together—feels like it’s rubbing off.” I wait, then add, “Sir.”
Rosen grunts but doesn’t correct me.
We ride the rest of the way in the awkward silence. I think about bringing up Ivan’s fingers, but I’m sure his father noticed. And like Sisk and the whole damn school, he just shrugs it off with the “science experiment” bullshit. I guess everyone thinks Ivan is too much of a pussy to go through with it, to actually bargain with The Pit.He might be a pussy, but he sure as hell did it.
* * *
We pull into the cracked parking lot of the Tar City Police Department, North Division. Rosen doesn’t even turn around when he says it: “Ivan. Inside. Wait for me in my office. I’ll file St. Clair in, then take you home. Maybe we’ll swing by the shelter, see if it’s some mutt’s lucky day.”
Ivan mumbles something that might pass for “yes, sir” and scrambles out.
Before Rosen can turn his full attention to me, another patrol car arrives in the lot. Two big cops get out and I watch as they haul a guy from the back. He’s built like a brick shithouse, his face a roadmap of old fights. He’s not struggling, just letting himself be moved. “You think this matters?” he says, as they drag him toward the doors. “Go ahead, lock me up. The Pit’s already got what it wanted.”
One of the cops grunts, shoving him forward. “Yeah, we’ll see how funny it is when you’re in a cell.”
“It took my brother already,” he says to the cops. “It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than me and him before it’s done.”
They disappear inside, the heavy door thudding shut behind them.
Rosen finally turns to me. “You. Inside.” I open the door, but he stops me with a sharp: “Wipe that smug grin off your face first.” I stop with my hand on the handle.
“I might not be able to lock you up for real,” he adds, “but I can make it real believable that you put up a fight, and I’m damn good at my job.”
I nod slowly, letting the taunting grin melt into something more respectful. I give him a sharp, crisp salute. “Yes, sir.”
Inside, Rosen waves me toward the side hallway. “Rourke’ll handle you,” he says over his shoulder. “I’m out of patience today.”
Perfect.Exactly what I wanted: an opportunity. “I know my way,” I say, already moving.
Two doors down past the coffee machine that’s permanently out of order, past the wall of dusty plaques and faded “community first” posters. I knock on the door with his name stenciled crookedly across the glass.
Rourke looks up and I step in.
“The fuck you did this time?” he asks, skipping the formalities.
“Does it matter?” I take a seat without asking and prop my boots up on his desk, fishing a piece of gum from my pocket and popping it in my mouth.
Rourke’s chair screeches back as he shoots to his feet. Fast and angry.He’s playing his part well.
“Get your damn foot off my desk.”
I don’t move right away. I cock my head and chew slowly.
He leans over me. ”You think I give a damn about your last name?”
I blink, all innocent. “Sorry man.”
He grabs my ankle, and yanks my foot down. I let it happen. Wouldn’t be as fun if I didn’t.
“Your grandfather doesn’t sign my checks, kid. Not anymore. And your daddy’s reputation doesn’t mean shit in this office.”
“I didn’t bring them up.” I wink.
Rourke stares at me pissed off.
I tap my fingers lightly on the edge of the desk. One, two, three beats. “So… what’s it like?” I ask, real casual. “Being one of the only people in Tar City who knows what The Pit really is?”
