Rivals For Breakfast

10| Slammer

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I contemplate staying in my car for the night. But I remember that there's a whole gang after me, if someone happens to see me alone in a car, I'm a gonner.

I contemplate going to a shelter but I've got no licence, and no form of identification, there's no way they'll let me in.

I contemplate going to the gang house, but truth is I don't feel safe there. Too much testosterone in one place makes me nervous, even if I am a part of the gang.

My last option is going back to Cole's place. The thought of it makes me want to jump off of a cliff. What would I even tell him!

My only recourse is to start driving and continue brainstorming along the way. The roads are dimly lit, shadows press themselves into the seats beside me. My body aches for sleep, my mind for a solution. I almost rub at my eyes when a thread of police lights burst through the dark, almost hoping I was nodding off on the road, rather than being trailed by a cop. But the blare of the siren soon after, confirms my worries. Fuuuckk, was I speeding?

I curse underneath my breath, but start to pull over. It's only when the officer's lengthy shadow cuts into my rear light that I remember, once again, that I've got no license.

He raps his knuckled against my window, I press a faint smile to my lips before rolling it down.

"Ma'am" The officer shoves a flashlight in my face. "Do you know that you just ran two red lights?"

"Umm no, I-I" I stutter, his eyebrows raise "I was just in a hurry."

"Okay" he sounds skeptical "ma'am have you been drinking or taking any drugs tonight?"

I shake my head "No, no I haven't"

"Hmm" he says, and takes a deeper look at my eyes "Okay well, license and registration please."

My stomach sinks, my voice grows low "umm, sir, I uhh, I forgot my wallet at home."

A pause stretches thin between us, "Well, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle" he says.

I curse under my breath. Groaning as I pour all my frustration into swinging the door open.

And only now, stepping into the windy night air do I remember how under-dressed I am. My pajama shorts barely cover my butt, I've got no bra on, and my crop top does a poor job of covering my mid drift. I've only got one fuzzy bunny slipper on and my messy bun is much messier than I'd like it to be. In other words I look a hot mess.

The police officer's eyes scan me, he smirks. "Face the car ma'am".

I turn, slowly hating myself for being dressed like this. "You've got a nice ass baby" he says pressing himself against me.

"You want to make this whole situation go away, you can do me a favor and I'll do you a favor" he whispers, his nasty hot breath fans my neck. I want to vomit.

"I don't want any of your favors, pig" I spit.

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth" he snakes his arm underneath my shirt, slowly moving up towards my boob.

"Help! help! Stop, don't touch me!" I scream.

"Hey, shut up!" He says and quickly snaps his filthy hands off my skin.

My arms are yanked behind my back. Cold metal cuffs click shut around my wrist. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you free of charge."