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10
Islap the ticket on the windshield and walk away from the car as its owner crosses the road towards me, hurtling abuse. I draw in a long breath, steeling myself for what’s about to come. The man isn’t bigger than me though he puffs out his chest and tries to be intimidating. He uses the usual lines, ‘get a real fucking job’, ‘go solve some real crime’, ‘big fucking man giving me a ticket when I’ve only been here a minute.’
“Step into your vehicle,” I warn him. It’s not even a veiled threat. I am not in the mood to be fucked with. Ever since Amy’s little stunt, things have gone downhill fast. I can’t get her out of my fucking head. She has consumed every thought, every minute of every day, and I feel like an addict strung out and desperate for another hit, knowing I can’t have one, knowing how dangerous it is.
When I got home that night, I put the girls to sleep, kissing their heads, smelling their sweet shampoo, and remembering all I have to lose if I let things go again. Then I fucked my wife like she was an animal. I gave her no time, no love, no affection. I fucked her hard and quick and left her in our bed while I went to shower, while I thought about another woman, while I craved someone else. Annie hasn’t let me near her since. I tried to apologise, told her I had a stressful day. She pretended to accept it, but I’ve noticed how she’s flinched away anytime I try to come near her. She knows my family history. Sometimes I wonder how afraid of me she really is.
With Annie keeping her legs tightly shut and Amy out of the picture, frustration has been growing inside me like a poisonous seed, hooking its roots deep and branching out into every part of my body, till all I do is snap and fuck up at work. Agitation follows me around like a hungry stray; savage and desperate to be fed.
“Fuck you, pig,” the man retorts, puffing his chest like a peacock.
I grind my jaw and give him a final chance. “Get in your vehicle, sir.”
“Get fucked, cunt.”
On any other day, I would have let his words roll off me and walked back to my car, leaving him with his ticket and his annoyance, but not today, not with my whole body coiled and tight, ready to strike. Without thinking, I burn the space between us, grab the man by his arm, spin him around and slam his torso onto the hood of his car while keeping his hand in an armbar. Grabbing a cable tie from my belt, I restrain him. I push him down hard and pull on the tie making it dig into his skin. Of course, he tries to fight me. I was counting on it as I kick his feet apart and apply excessive force to his lower back and arms. The violence gives me a slim reprieve from my pent-up desires.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He keeps fighting me as I drag him towards my car.
“You’re under arrest.” I know it means more paperwork, but fuck it, smashing his body into that hood was worth it.
“What for?”
“Swearing at a police officer, abusive behaviour, resisting arrest.” I rattle off a few other minor charges.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“No.” I open the door to my car. Hot air gushes out, and I make sure to smack his head into the door frame as I help him inside.
“What the fuck?” He is still swearing as I slam the door behind him and leave him to cook for a few minutes, taking my time before getting into the car. He’s panting when I slide into my seat, struggling in the warm air, his hairline soaked with sweat and his red shirt now a dark maroon covered in rivulets of moisture.
“What the fuck, man? I am going to report you for this.”
I ignore him as I start the engine and let my head fall back onto the headrest for a brief second as for the hundredth time today, I think about that sweet moment when Amy’s lithe fingers curled around my shaft, how her perfume filled my nostrils and how I fucked her hand. I let out an involuntary groan as my cock hardens and the man in the back sneers.
“I’d also groan if I was a pig like you. Oink oink.”
I drown him out with thoughts of Amy while driving him back to the station.
