The pop and crackle of interference once again broke the silence and the disembodied voice of the other officer audibly sighed before continuing. “Shelton, here’s a direct quote, ‘tell Storm to leave his devil worshipper downstairs where he belongs.’”
Ben’s own words came in a slow drone directly behind the echo of the radio. “Fuuuuck me. Just fuuuuck me.”
CHAPTER 3:
I protested, but it didn’t do any good. This time it was out of Ben’s control, and no amount of complaining from me was going to accomplish anything positive. Besides, he was on my side, or at least that is what I thought. In the end, he continued up the stairs, and we were escorted back out onto the street.
The wind had picked up as a storm front rolled in, so we were waiting in my friend’s van with the engine running and the heater on. He had been somewhat reluctant to relinquish the keys, and I guess I could understand why, since he had just gotten it back from the shop a week ago. I’m sure the fact that I was the one responsible for putting it in there to begin with was a big stumbling block for him as well-but that was another story.
I suppose that is probably why when he finally gave up the keys it was to Felicity instead of me, which also was why she was sitting in the driver’s seat.
“You’ve been pretty quiet.” I leaned back in the passenger seat and let my head roll to face her as I spoke. The vehicle’s heater had not yet defeated the chill, and my words vented outward on an opaque cloud of frost. “Are you doing all right?”
Felicity looked back at me with a flat expression. It was apparent that she was tired, but more than that, it was plain to see that she was overwhelmed. “Aye, that would depend on your definition of all right, wouldn’t it, then?”