Devil's Gambit

Chapter 1

Officer Davies sipped his diet Coke, ice sloshing against the sides of the cup as an obnoxious slurping filled the car. Officer Matheson, who had one arm hanging out the open window of the police car while the other gripped the steering wheel, chuckled as he recounted a story to his partner.

"Anyway, so that cute secretary that comes in sometimes, the real quiet one, she actually tells me to piss off- can you believe that?" Matheson scoffed incredulously, and Davies chortled in response, chewing on the end of his plastic straw. "Man, all I did was ask her out-"

"For the third time?" Davies snickered.

"Well- shut up Davies, you couldn't date your own sister if you wanted to," Matheson snapped, to which Davies frowned pathetically at him. "That's why I like the quiet ones, you never know if they're actually quiet, or if they can be some real spitfires. I like the chase, and I like the surprise," the cop grinned predatorily, reaching over to sip at his own soda.

"What will you do now?" Davies asked innocently.

Matheson shrugged, slurping up the rest of his drink obnoxiously. "Fuck if I know. Try again next week, I guess."

Davies snorted, scanning the environment just outside of the passenger side window. Nothing too out of the ordinary in the affluent neighborhood, older women speed walking with weights in their hands, the occasional kid riding their bike on the sidewalk, plenty of people out golfing on the golf course in the warm morning sun.

"Aw shit," Matheson griped, smacking his blinker on to turn right into the country club. Davies whipped his head around, looking at his partner with wide eyes swimming with confusion.

"What?"

"It's that goddamn O'Reilly kid again, sleeping somewhere other than his own bloody house."

The cop car pulled up to the curb just inside the entrance to the country club, the two policemen slinking out and adjusting their belts. A few golfers were gathered around the sleeping figure on the bench, whispering amongst themselves and pointing.

"Alright folks, run along, we got this covered," Matheson schmoosed, ever the charismatic one, as the affluent golfers nodded their heads towards the officers, one man with a bright white button up and grey cap giving a chaste salute. Matheson smiled, nodding back, while Davies waved ridiculously, Matheson smacking his hand away with a sneer.

The two inched closer to the young man like he was a wild animal, staring on cautiously as his chest rose and fell easily. His light skin shone in the sunlight, long lashes curling against his dark under eye circles, ashy brown fringe falling into his closed eyes.

"He doesn't look to be doin' nothing wrong, just sleeping. Maybe we should leave him?" Davies questioned, looking at Matheson with uncertainty, as the other officer, an older man with salt and pepper hair and a mean looking brow, merely scowled at the young cop.

"We can't let him sleep here Davies, we got a job to do. These people pay hundreds a month to golf here, we can't have some delinquent sleeping on a bench out in the open," Matheson replied as though Davies was stupid, but the younger blond officer still didn't quite understand Matheson's explanation.

Bending down, Officer Matheson picked up a long stick from under one of the maple trees, jabbing at the younger man's shoulder. "Come on O'Reilly, wakey wakey."

With a groan, the man shifted, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as he stretched out on the bench like a cat. Matheson rolled his eyes at him taking his sweet time, electing to poke at him with even more ferocity.

"Ow, what the hell is your problem?" The man hissed, finally blinking open his bright green eyes and narrowing them at the cop.

"The fuck you doin' out here O'Reilly? You're making the country club look like a red light district."