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“I just need you to hold on to it.”
“I’m here with Fletcher Sweeney and that stuff is illegal.”
“It’s a few fucking pills, Britt,” he snaps, barely concealing his anger. “My girlfriend isn’t chill with this type of stuff. I know you’re not like that. You’re cool.”
Rage bristles over me. This motherfucker doesn’t care about her. He’s manipulating Brittany’s feelings for him to get away with bringing drugs into our small town where pills and that type of shit have cost lives – including lives that are very fucking important to me.
Not to mention Britt.
“I don’t want to hold on to your pills. I thought you wanted to meet up with me to–
That motherfucker. He leans forward and grabs Brittany’s face, kissing her. He looks like a sloppy fucking basset hound lapping at a bowl of water. His tongue juts out and Rob fucking Wheeler, the star of Brittany’s life seems to be hell bent on coating her in enough saliva to drown her. I can’t fucking take it anymore.
I tried to be Fletcher the nice guy, Fletcher, Harry’s friend who just wanted Brittany to come out and have a good time, but this has gone a touch too fucking far. I pull my gun out and move in on my target.
“Hands on the fucking ground, Wheeler.”
He lets go of Brittany’s face. She turns around, slobber all over and a glare that could burn me alive if I let it.
“Fletcher, what are you doing!” she yells.
“Rob, empty your fucking pockets. Show me the pills.”
Rob glares at Brittany, and he makes one crucial fucking mistake.
“Bitch,” he snarls at her, as if Brittany set all this up and as if her doing so would warrant him calling her a horrific fucking name like that.
I know I shouldn’t, but my body goes ahead and does what the fuck it wants before my body catches up. With my pistol still secure in my grasp, I slam my curled fist into Rob and he groans, stumbling backwards.
Brittany screams, “What are you doing!?”
I have to get control of this situation. I push Rob against the wall, flipping him around so he isn’t facing me. I pat him down and it doesn’t take long for me to find the bag with pills in the idiot’s pocket. Rob grunts and tries to fight against my grasp, but the idiot kid clearly doesn’t work out. I step away from him and hold up the baggie.
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Rob Wheeler, I’m placing you under arrest. You have the right to remain silent–
I get through the Miranda Rights through Brittany’s irritated screeching. She calls me every name in the book, but I don’t give a fuck. Rob is done fighting and I don’t even need to get my spare cuffs out of the car. He looks like he’s going to piss himself and when I ask him to walk to my car so he can leave the place with some dignity, he agrees.
“Don’t run off,” I tell him. “I’m calling the sheriff and once he has your name, there’s no running.”
Rob mutters a humble, yes officer and I feel… fucking great. I get on the phone with my boss, ignoring Brittany as she becomes more and more visibly enraged. She folds her arms and taps my foot as I talk to the sheriff. Once I hang up, Brittany grabs my phone and throws it into the nearest bush.
“What the hell, Fletcher.”
Holy fuck, she’s red mad. I’ve never seen Brittany like this and her fury shocks me into a strange silence. I thought she might be annoyed but…
“I was worried about you. I come back here and you’re–
“Having fun!” she screams at me. “My dad is sick and I’m fucked up over it and I just wanted one night where–
“Stop it, Britt,” I growl at her. “Your father wouldn’t want you holding onto pills for a junkie and necking behind a fucking bowling alley.”
“You aren’t my fucking father!” she yells at me.
“I know!” I scream back, losing my fucking cool because it’s Brittany and I care too fucking much about her. “And do you know how much is scares the crap out of me that if he’s not here, you’re going to spiral into the arms of a loser asshole like Rob fucking Wheeler when you deserve so much better?”
