Cause a Riot

Chapter 20

Cuzo was on top of the house's roof, a chilly wind blowing through his messy hair. He crept down to the side, where he leaned over, spotting an attic window. He took out duct tape from his pocket and began layering the glass until a part of it was covered. Then he let himself hang off the roof, holding on with one hand. With his other hand, he punched the taped glass hard, shattering it effectively without much noise. He put his hand in and felt the latch, which he used to unlock the window. He pulled it up and swung himself in. He felt sweat drip down his back from the effort, and he knew his wounds would reopen after this but he didn't care. He hated waiting and his wounds were taking too long. There were things he had to do and he preferred to do them instantly.

Inside the dark attic, Cuzo inched his way to the door to the stairs and snuck down, gun in hand. He knew he wouldn't need it since the Chief wasn't home, but it was never a bad thing to have it in hand. He reached the bottom step to the top floor, where it was all dark. A light in a single room downstairs, however, was on – which would mean that's where Dad was. Cuzo's heart thumped wildly at the thought of seeing him again. He would be old – not at all like he was all those years ago. Cuzo wondered if he'd recognize him – with his scarred face and beard. He wondered further if Dad had heard of him on the news. It was likely. As Cuzo descended the second flight of stairs to the main level, he couldn't help but wonder if Dad even wanted to see him again. All this time – even after all these years – Cuzo had believed his dad was innocent, that his killings were a simple mistake. And if he had gotten the chance to explain himself and apologize, he would. But what if Cuzo was wrong and his dad wasn't sorry? What if he wanted to stay away from them? Why else would he have stayed away from them for so long? He knew they were orphans now. He would've have come to find them if he cared – if he was sorry. Cuzo reached the house's kitchen, where the light was coming from. He placed his back against the wall to steady his nerves and placed the gun in his coat's pocket. Whatever the case with his father was – he'd never know until he confronted him again.

Cuzo leaned off the wall and walked inside the kitchen, stopping abruptly. He frowned at the boy – perhaps in his mid teens - sitting there, blinking at him as his mouth was stuffed with a large morsel of his late-night meal. Did Cuzo get the wrong address? But no. He couldn't have. This was the Chief's house. He knew it was. But who was this young man? The boy gulped the food down his throat before turning in his seat to look at Cuzo.

"What?" he asked bluntly. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Who are you?" Cuzo asked wearily.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Mr. Burglar? What do you want? I have my phone with me. If you don't leave, I'm calling the police."

Cuzo sighed. "Is this Wayne Rustage's house?"

"Yeah," the kid answered. "Were you trying to kill my uncle?"

"Uncle?" Cuzo cocked his head. "The Chief had a nephew? I never knew."

"Get lost," the boy said, holding his phone up, ready to dial 9-1-1. "I'm giving you five seconds. One..."

"Hold on," Cuzo didn't know what to say. He had been expecting a lot of things but not this. "Um, is there a man named Adriel living here?"

"I'm Adriel," the boy said with uninterested eyes. "What do you want with me?"

Cuzo froze. "Y-You're Adriel? Adriel C.?"

"Yeah," the boy said, clueless as to why Cuzo looked so disappointed. "Adriel Cain Rustage. Although, most people call me Cain. Were you expecting someone else?"

W-what...?

Adriel C. was... the Chief's nephew?

Cuzo's frown was deep at the reveal. It wasn't Dad. The Chief had gotten a message from his nephew whose name happened to be Adriel like his father. Or... it probably wasn't a coincidence. Rustage might have named his nephew after his dad from sentiment, which probably meant his dad was dead.