“These are real cops’ handcuffs,” she panics, shuffling off the geek.
Lifting Rocky’s wrist, she points to the handcuffs where LAPD is engraved on the side.
“Shit, dude.” I whistle at the predicament. “I heard only cops have the master key.”
“We can’t go to the cops,” she almost cries. “They’ll ask me where I got them from.”
“Where did you get them from?” the three of us ask.
“Long story. My ex, pimp, or whatever you want to call him, was in the LAPD.”
“So, you stole them?” Elijah confirms, keeping a straight face.
“Stole, borrowed, same difference.”
“I don’t give a goddamn fuck about you, woman. I need these cuffs off, and you’re coming with us to the police station.”
An hour later, the four of us enter the police station—the handcuffee, the Madame, Elvis, and me dressed in normal attire but still soaking wet from my dive in the pool.
“So, how can I help you gentlemen and madame tonight?” the cop behind the desk asks.
Elijah clears his throat. “We kinda handcuffed my friend.”
“Uh-huh, so why not get a pair of bolt cutters?” the cop questions.
We look at each other, neither one of us wanting to talk.
Rocky breaks the silence. “Um… they kinda belong to the LAPD…”
The cop walks around the desk and lifts Rocky’s wrist. “Do you realize it’s a federal offense to steal property from the police?”
“Yes, sir,” we answer with our heads bowed.
“Who do they belong to?”
The three of us swing our heads to face whatever her name is. She remains silent until she caves under our glare.
“Mine, but I can explain,” she wails.
“Go ahead.”
She explains the story, the cop barely buying it. The longer she drags the story, the deeper in shit we all become.
“You know that you should be all doing a night behind bars for this offense?” His tone is deadly serious.
Oh fuck. The slammer? Fucking Rocky and Elijah. This isn’t on my bucket list. I can see the sweat dripping off Rocky and Elijah’s foreheads. If it weren’t for the alcohol, I probably would be panicking the same.
“Do you think this is the first time I have seen this?” asks the cop.
“Uh, no, sir, I mean yes, sir…” Rocky answers nervously.
“Well, which one is it?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
The cop laughs, shaking his head. “You out-of-towners are no different from the rest of them.”
As soon as I realize he isn’t serious, I break out in a small smile. The cop takes out his key to undo the handcuffs, and I get an idea.