Forced Betrayal by Robert T. Jeschonek

Author:Robert T. Jeschonek [Jeschonek, Robert T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Publisher: Pie Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

*****

"Let me see if I've got this straight," says Lt. Tank Driscoll, a.k.a. the douche. "You're telling me you're not here for questioning?"

Words cannot express how much he's loving this right now. Hericane and I standing in his station with hat in hand, asking for his help. After the way we made him and his buddies scamper away from the Mardi Gras murder scene like frightened mice.

Now he gets to humiliate us in front of those same buddies. And we have to take it.

Open mouth, insert shit.

"That is correct," I tell him. "We're here because we need a favor."

"A favor." Tank's feet are planted far apart, and his hands are on his scrawny hips. His cheap navy sports coat is spread open wide as if to spotlight his package, as if to rub in the fact that he's won the biggest-dick contest. "Because you've done so many favors for me?"

I start to get pissed, but then I back it off. I knew what we were in for when we walked into this place. I pretty much knew word-for-word how this shit would play out. "We'll have to make it favors to be named later," I tell him.

Tank takes a look around the big office, leering like he's getting a blank check for special favors. His fellow cops cheer and whistle and roar with laughter, even the three women standing around. It's not so much a sexist thing. These people have no love for super-humans, and they hate "foxes" like me even more. They figure we're obstructing justice and covering for our own kind.

Which doesn't seem like such a stretch to me after today, I gotta be honest.

"So what's this favor you need from me?" Tank narrows his eyes and strokes his waxy mustache. "What's important enough to make you waltz in here--after the shitty way you treat me 99.99 percent of the time--and ask for my help?" He looks around at his buddies and shakes his head at how brazen and stupid I am.

I shake my head right back at him. "I can't tell you here. Not in front of everybody."

"So you two want to get me alone?" The douche smirks like a twelve-year-old smart-mouthing his teacher in front of the class. "Just the three of us in a room together?" His tone oozes innuendo, and the crowd responds with a round of whistles, howls, and laughter.

Hericane takes a step forward, and I throw out my arm to hold her back. I warned her how it would be with Tank, but I guess she's had her fill.

Too bad. If either of us effs up even the slightest bit, the douche will shut us down and cuff us. He'd be within his rights, and he knows it.

"You've got some big balls, you know that?" He paces in front of us, glaring like a drill sergeant. "Walkin' into my house after treatin' me like your bitch for how many years, expecting me to kiss your ass!" He stops in front of me and shoves his face up to mine so our noses are a hair's breadth from touching.

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