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“A happy number nineteen, Barlow,” I said when she answered.
“Happy nineteen, Roman. What can I do for you?”
“Well in good news, no charges. But they won’t let me go home by myself and they just can’t find anyone to take me.”
It was an actual outright lie, but I wasn’t about to tell her that my luck had finally solidly run out. We were on thin enough ice. I didn’t need to upgrade from degenerate to full-on criminal in her eyes.
“So, you need me to pick you up?”
“If you’d be so kind.”
“At least cut the crap,” she sighed.
“Cut what crap?” I asked sweetly.
“This perpetuating nonchalant attitude you have going. You can play it with other people, but not me. I’m not in the mood, Lombardi.”
“What attitude, Barlow? This is just me.”
“I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, okay?” was all she said.
After a lengthy pause, I said, “Be careful, Barlow. Yeah?” and meant every word.
“I will,” she promised.
“Sorted?” Martinez asked.
I nodded. “She’ll be here in fifteen.”
“Great,” he said as though he couldn’t care less.
I sat and twiddled my thumbs while Martinez filled in all the paperwork. It took a fucking long time. I guess I’d never noticed because they’d never actually got this far before. I’d never been fully charged with anything before.
Had I not been buzzed and fucking angry, then I might have considered it a wakeup call. As it was, it was just an annoyance.
“You’ll be contacted in the next few days about a court date,” Martinez said when he was done. “How this is your first, I don’t know. With a good enough character reference, you might be lucky and just get community service and a fine.”
Well, fuck you very much, sir.
In my drunken state, I gave him a sarcastic little bow.
“Lombardi’s ride’s here,” someone called, and the guy nodded to me.
“All right. Try to keep yourself out of trouble, then.”
I rolled my eyes at him. Like that hadn’t crossed my mind before.
He walked me out to reception where Piper was waiting. She hadn’t bothered changing and I was glad. She looked fucking delicious in those furry PJ pants.
“Ah, my knight in…furry pants!” I said to her.
“No wonder they wouldn’t let you home by yourself,” she grumbled as she grabbed my sleeve and pulled me outside. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
I stopped just shy of the car and she was forced to stop as well. “Ah, but I have it on good authority that there is a raging party. Rio texted me the address. No dress code, therefore furry pants more than welcome.”
She shook her head and tugged on my sleeve until I followed her.
“Fucking and drinking still solving all those problems, Lombardi?” she asked as she opened the passenger door for me. The parallel was not lost on me.
