1. Mac
Mac
“ S hit, shit, shit!” I murmur to myself. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel on my Chevelle as I race out of town. Flicking my eyes to the rear-view mirror, they catch sight of the contraband in my back seat. “Fuck!”
“What were you thinking?” I ask absolutely no one.
This can’t end well. Barreling out of town with stolen goods and a black ski mask in the backseat, I’m guaranteed to get pulled over.
I can only hope whoever does pull me over will go easy on me.
I don’t even know the consequences for stealing, but I’m quickly adding more charges to my name as I hit criminal speed on the freeway to Cedar Bend. Damn it !
My mind races through potential scenarios, all of them ending with me in jail.
I think about my family, all the work I’ve put into the shop, and how quickly it could all slip away.
For what? Why? The elephant on my chest seems to have doubled in size, and my grip slips on the steering wheel.
Rubbing the sweat off on my jeans, I start naming things I can see.
Lane lines. Blue van that I just passed.
Cactus. Speed limit sign. Shit, yeah, I’m definitely getting a ticket for speeding. My heart races again.
I continue down the freeway and start to see cars heading in the opposite direction flash their lights at me.
Finally! I press down on the gas as I come up on the state trooper parked on the side of the freeway.
Sure enough, the trooper flips his lights on and pulls up behind me.
Letting off the gas, I pull off to the shoulder and put my Chevelle in park, turn off the engine, and place the keys on the dashboard.
I roll down my window with the hand crank, and then place both hands on the steering wheel as footsteps approach. Looking to my left I curse silently.
“Hello, Officer Clayborn.”
“Alexander.” He tips his head in acknowledgment and then proceeds to ask me for my paperwork. When Officer Clayborn returns with my papers in hand and doesn’t return them, I know I’m completely fucked. “Alexander, are you aware of a robbery that took place at Henry’s liquor shop about an hour ago?”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. When I open them again, I glance in my rearview mirror, again landing on the contraband in the backseat. Clayborn notices and follows my gaze. He raises an eyebrow, and I nod in confirmation.
“Yes, sir. I’m aware.”
“Please step out of the vehicle, son.” Sighing, I do as I’m told and overhear Officer Clayborn calling back to the station. “I have the suspect in custody. Matches the build and description. Car description matches what Henry described as well.”
I shake my head, looking down at my feet as I place my hands behind my back. The slap of metal against my wrists makes me wince. It’s not the first time I’ve been cuffed but it hits different this time.