“Fuck off.” I shove his shoulder, but I’m laughing with him.
“Look at you, Russo. I’ve known you for a long time. You haven’t smiled this much in all the years we’ve been riding together. You like her. She makes you happy. Why not tell her?”
I let my head fall back against the headrest.Why not?
A call comes in on the radio: Kids at the skate park.
“Goddamnit.” I hit the steering wheel before radioing back to dispatch that we’re on the way.
Phil shakes his head. “I told you they’d be back.”
“Maybe it’s not them.”
“Yeah, sure. You keep telling yourself that.”
We pull up to the skate park without our lights on and spy the usual group of boys.
Cory is there.
“That your little buddy, Cory?” Phil asks, gesturing to the blond-haired boy snorting a line off the picnic table.
I heave a long sigh. “Yup. That’s him.”
“Can we bring them in now?”
“Yes, we can bring them in.”
“Do you want to tell me I’m right before we go, or wait until after?”
“You’re right. I’m wrong. You feel better now, or do you need me to stroke your dick too?”
Phil throws his head back and laughs. “I always knew you wanted my dick.”
“Shut the fuck up, and let’s go.”
We walk up on them from the other side of the skate ramp. Phil goes one way, and I go the other, giving them nowhere to run. We won’t be able to catch them all, but two out of five is all we need.
Phil strides over to the table as he rubs his palms together. “What are we doing, boys?”
All five of them jump up, stuffing whatever they can into their pockets as if we haven’t already seen what they’re doing.
I shake my head as I enter the area from the opposite side. “Cory, I gotta say, I’m disappointed in you. I thought we had a good chat last time we met.”
One of the boys spits on the ground between us. “Fuck you, pig.”
Phil unclips his cuffs. “Oh, I’m not the one who’s fucked.”
Three of the boys take off running, but Phil and I remain with the other two who are too close to run.
“Such a shame.” I shake my head at Cory. “I thought you were better than this. I gave you a second chance, but you blew it.”
The spitter edges closer to Cory, and his eyes bounce between us as if he’s giving his friend a silent message.
Adrenaline spikes in my gut.
Something’s wrong.
“James,” Phil warns.