2. Zane Bishop
ZANE BISHOP
M y fucking bike! The drunk motherfucker had backed into my bike after I’d kicked him out of The Conjure .
“Bishop, don't do anything stupid,” the woman beside me whispered.
Cory was an Amazon of a woman. Tall and statuesque and she’d been the one to toss Kirk Zillerman out on his ass. He’d been getting way too rough with one of the dancers.
Your dancer, I thought.
Crystal and I had a thing going on but she also had to work. Fucking the dancers was one of the rules I couldn’t seem to stop breaking.
The red lights of Kirk’s Ford F150 lit up as he prepared to throw the truck into park. The driver side door opened, and he stumbled out along with a few beer cans.
“Oh maaaannnn,” he slurred. “Did I …diddd I fuccking hit…”
Nope, I thought.
My fist was flying out and punching the motherfucker square in the mouth.
He stumbled back shocked at what had just happened, but it wasn’t enough time. I speared him and we both tumbled to the ground.
I began punching at his face. “You did that shit on purpose!”
Kirk tried his best to protect his ugly ass face from the blows I’d begun to rain down on him. The rage I felt over him hitting my chrome beauty had me in a frenzy. Nothing was going to calm me down.
“Bishop!” Cory called. “Bish…. the cop’s bro. The cops are here…”
The flash of blue lights had caught my attention as my chest began to heave. Before I knew it, a slow Sunday night had turned into me getting my ass cuffed and me thrown in the back of a police cruiser.
“Aye, grab the number for Florrick and Heart. Will owes me one. It's on the board in my office,” I told Cory.
“Sure thing, boss…”
The officer started reading me my rights while Kirk Zillerman’s ass was rolling around on the ground bleeding.
Fuck, I thought as the door to the police cruiser closed.
I did have a way of making an even bigger mess of things sometimes. I just needed to hope that the law firm could have me out at least by morning.