Edward Thatch
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2016
- Location
- NC USA
He sat in the darkened living room. The shades drawn and only a light down the hall on; He was thunderstruck. His old friend and former boss just called him and told him his baby girl would be coming home in a patrol car. He sat there in his worn jeans and blue polo shirt, opening and closing his fists. He kept repeating the same mantra to himself. “I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up.” He didn't believe it anymore the hundredth time than he did the first. He was straining to reign in his anger. He should have seen this coming. He had warned her.
His baby girl, well enough to say baby girl, she was in her mid twenties now. But his baby girl coming home in the back of a police cruiser. A fucking police cruiser! He had warned her and warned her and warned her. She just wouldn't listen. That boy, that criminal, that piece of human trash had gotten his baby girl arrested. It didn't used to be this way. His 6'6” height, wide shoulders, black hair, green blazing eyes and facial scar was always more than enough to quail her boy friends before now. The very few that it didn't; did cool their jets when they came by to pick her up and see him cleaning his Sig .40. All he had to do was grin at them. That's it, he didn't have to say anything. In fact it usually worked better when he didn't say anything.
But this little prick wouldn't come by to pick her up. He would turn around and walk the other way if he saw her dad coming. He had arrested the punk enough times when he was a juvie and he was still on the force. He knew then the little shit wasn't going anywhere but prison or the morgue. And she chose him?! He really should have just shot the little punk when he pulled a knife ten years before. Now he was going down for Grand Theft Auto and had gotten his baby girl involved as a “look out”. The only reason she was not being booked right now was his friendship with the Chief. He happened to see her come in and pulled her from processing. Oh, he gave her a good ass chewing and sent her home. Now he had to confront her, had to deal with this.
Was that a car door? He started his mantra again. “I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up.”
His baby girl, well enough to say baby girl, she was in her mid twenties now. But his baby girl coming home in the back of a police cruiser. A fucking police cruiser! He had warned her and warned her and warned her. She just wouldn't listen. That boy, that criminal, that piece of human trash had gotten his baby girl arrested. It didn't used to be this way. His 6'6” height, wide shoulders, black hair, green blazing eyes and facial scar was always more than enough to quail her boy friends before now. The very few that it didn't; did cool their jets when they came by to pick her up and see him cleaning his Sig .40. All he had to do was grin at them. That's it, he didn't have to say anything. In fact it usually worked better when he didn't say anything.
But this little prick wouldn't come by to pick her up. He would turn around and walk the other way if he saw her dad coming. He had arrested the punk enough times when he was a juvie and he was still on the force. He knew then the little shit wasn't going anywhere but prison or the morgue. And she chose him?! He really should have just shot the little punk when he pulled a knife ten years before. Now he was going down for Grand Theft Auto and had gotten his baby girl involved as a “look out”. The only reason she was not being booked right now was his friendship with the Chief. He happened to see her come in and pulled her from processing. Oh, he gave her a good ass chewing and sent her home. Now he had to confront her, had to deal with this.
Was that a car door? He started his mantra again. “I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up. I'm not going to blow up.”