Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
There’s a couple of cuts in Wallach that he might take or just walk through to 13th. Wallach is a long, narrow road, so I’m betting on the cuts. I drive south on 14th to T, the next street down, and when traffic eases I make a quick left. I slow down toward the cut that extends from T to Wallach.
He’s walking, looks like he’s coming this way. There’s a car behind me, so I can’t back up. I pull forward and park behind a car that puts the rear of my car partway into the cut he’s walking. I turn the engine off and recline the seat. I adjust the rearview so I can see from my position.
He steps out of the cut, looks both ways, and walks behind my car to cross the street.
I watch him cross, get ready to enter the next alley, heading south. I start thinking this ain’t nothin’ but a waste of my time. I open the door and step out, close it quietly, walk to the rear of my car, then cross the street. I manage to get right up on him, and by the time he turns his head it’s too late, because I grab him tight from behind by the neck of his T-shirt.
He struggles but doesn’t fight.
“What the fuck! You got no cause,” he squeaks out.
“What the hell you run from me for? I was being polite.”
“Didn’t do nothin’! You got no cause to stop me. Fucking let me go.”
“What you holding? I know that’s why you ran.”
He struggles and squirms and worms his way out of his double-XL T-shirt. His skinny chest; wide, angular shoulders. His pants are almost below his ass. He pulls them up and runs in the alley.
“Shit. C’mon, now, little man.”
I see a small group of people has gathered at the corner. Couple of them have their iPhones out.
“Oh, that’s fucking great,” I say to myself.
But like a hungry dog I turn back to my prey and run after him.
I chase him through the alley to the next street.
He runs east, toward 13th, but even holding his pants up with his right hand he’s still like an antelope. I ain’t no cheetah, especially in the heat. I’ve already run a block, and my shirt’s soaked through. Fuck it.
He looks back when he hits 13th. I swear he’s mocking me ’cause he walks at a slow pace when he crosses to the other side, looking my way.
I toss his T-shirt in the gutter. Fucking little young punk.
What the hell was I even chasing this kid for?