12. Zero
12
ZERO
R eaching for another potato chip, Zero held the binoculars steady against his face. From where he sat, he had a perfect view of their subject as he browsed some fruit laid out by a local vendor.
Chase, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that tonight, he and his train wreck of a new partner should be placed together to keep an eye on the man that they were investigating—Dr. Nicolaus Baasch. He wondered if perhaps Chase had detected a bit of awkwardness between him and the cocky little bastard at the breakfast table the other day, and this was his way of forcing the two of them to sniff each other’s butts and become best friends.
That only happens in the animal world, dipshit.
Too bad. He wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with a certain tantalizing behind. Perhaps knock some sense into that selfish little stoner.
He was familiar with guys like Diesel. He’d been dealing with them his whole life. They were lazy, selfish, and couldn’t be relied upon. Take what happened between them the other night. The second the guy shoots his load, he fucks right off, only caring about himself and his own selfish needs.
Focus. You’re here to watch Dr. Creeps-a-lot , not devise plans to teach bad boys a lesson.
The sound of the potato chip crushing between his teeth filled the silent void around him.
“Could you chew any louder?” Diesel’s annoyed voice came through the tiny earpiece he had shoved inside his ear. The irritation in Diesel’s voice was loud and clear.
Zero added three more chips to his mouth and began chewing even louder.
“Great, they assigned me with an immature man-child.”
“Immature man-child with a six-pack,” Zero added for good measure.
“Not sure how, when all you’ve done since we started this stakeout is pig out on junk food.”
“It’s called working out. I hit the gym five days a week and watch what I eat… most days.”
Zero turned his binoculars toward the park where a hooded Diesel was sitting on a bench, arm thrown over the back, pretending to be playing on his cell phone.
“So tell me. What’s your workout regime?” Zero asked, curious about this walking gray cloud of sunshine.
“Whiskey.”
A startled chuckle slipped from his lips before he had a chance to get himself under control. He wasn’t going to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing that he found him amusing.
“There’s got to be more than that. You work as a stripper, right? That means you’ve got to have a half-decent body buried under all those layers of clothing.”
“Whiskey and sex. Lots of sex. So much so that people are amazed I even get dressed at all.”
This guy was kind of funny. In a mean-girl kind of way.
“Well, I haven’t seen the body, but you definitely got the porn star dick thing going for you.” He decided to play nice and throw the man a metaphorical bone. A compliment here and there never hurt anyone.
“Thanks. It keeps me employed.”
Now Zero couldn’t help but chuckle.
Damn it.
“Remind me again why I’m stuck outside, alone in a dark park, and you're just chilling inside a warm car with music and snacks?” Diesel asked, turning his head toward the direction of the car.
“Because you're more believable as a sketchy bum just chillin’ in a park looking to score some coke.”
Diesel pulled down his hoodie and glared at the car.
“Hey, you’re not allowed to break character. Get back into your stank-ass, druggy persona and appear like you’re looking to score some dope.” He was having way too much fun with this.
“You’re such a dick.” Diesel huffed back into the earpiece.
“You still owe me a blow job.”
“Hate to tell you, but I’m straight,” Diesel responded, turning his focus back to the man they were supposed to be surveilling.
“Keep telling yourself that, princess, and maybe one day your fairy godmother will bring you a pony as well.”
Twenty minutes went by with nothing but silence between the two. Zero was now working on a bag of jelly beans which was basically all sugar and gelatin—and oh, so fucking delicious. Only downside? They were chewy as hell! He grabbed the cap off a pen and began trying to pick the gummy from the bottom of his teeth.
Fuck , he wished he had his toothbrush with him.
“So, what kind of a name is Zero, anyway?” Diesel’s voice was low and sounded almost bored.
“It’s a nickname.”
“Meaning?”
Zero exhaled, thinking about the origin of his nickname. He wasn’t exactly proud of his past, but what could he do? In the end, it all came down to whether or not you learned from your past mistakes and how you grew from those experiences. He wasn’t a saint by any means, but he also wasn’t the monster.
“Zero, as in ‘zero patience.’ Let’s just say that when I was younger, I had a bit of an anger-management problem and went from zero to sixty in zero point zero seconds. People started calling me Zero, and the name kind of stuck.” He tossed the bag of jelly beans onto the passenger seat of his car and picked up the binoculars once again.
Their favorite person was inside the gym, presumably working off whatever calories he had consumed that day.
“What about Diesel? Was your dad a car buff or something?”
“Couldn’t tell you. Haven’t seen the guy since I was four, and my mom and I weren’t exactly the sit-and-chat kind of people.” There was a certain darkness in the words that Diesel spoke. Zero wanted to ask more, but he wasn’t sure how the man would react.
“So, if Zero is your nickname, what’s your real handle?”
Lowering the binoculars, he gave the back of Diesel’s head a smirk.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”