“Staying in one place too long gets boring. Think of this as an adventure. When you’re with me, it’s never gonna get boring.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
A loud knock sounded at the front door, startling me, but Roscoe remained calm as always.
“Expecting someone?” he asked.
“No,” I said, hurrying to the front door. I peeked through the hole and saw two police officers accompanying a middle-aged man standing on the other side. “Well, this should be fun,” I whispered, waving Roscoe away. “Stay out of sight.”
He nodded, disappeared into the bathroom, and I opened the door.
“Hello?” I said as the man brushed by me.
“You were supposed to be out today,” he said, looking around the apartment.
“No, the letter clearly stated tomorrow.”
“Things have changed,” he said, noticing the fur Roscoe had shed all over the carpet. “Having a werewolf live with you was one thing, but there is a strict ordinance against half-turns residing on this property.”
“We’ll be out today,” I said, holding my hands up as one officer stepped closer.
Roscoe threw open the bathroom door, and the other cop pulled a taser out of its holster.
“Whoa there,” Roscoe said, slowly pointing to the bags lined against the wall. “We’re just gonna get our things and skedaddle.” He froze, and that shitty grin inched up his maw as he eyed one of the officers. “Oh damn. It’s Sergeant Buttercup!”
“You!” The officer grew more irritated at the sight of the werewolf. He looked to be in his mid-thirties but was built like he’d spent several hours a day in the gym. “Every time I’m called about werewolf disturbances, you’re involved somehow.”
Roscoe’s tail wagged while he took a careful step closer. “If we keep meeting like this, we may as well start datin’.”
“One day your luck’s gonna run out, buddy. I want to be there when a judge finally puts your ass in werewolf prison.”
“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong this time. I’m just helping the kid out.”
“Yeah,” he said, opening the front door. “Grab your shit and we’ll escort you off the premises.”
“I’ll be mailing you the bill for the lease termination,” the property manager said, opening the blinds before turning back to me.
“And I’ll rub it against my sweaty taint as payment,” Roscoe rebutted, grabbing four of the bags before leaning in close to the older man. “How’s that sound?”
The man said nothing, visibly shaken by how close Roscoe’s teeth were to his face.
The cop stomped his foot. “Roscoe! Out! Now!”
“Fine, whatever. Let’s get the hell out of here,” the werewolf grunted, pushing past the cops and walking outside with me close behind. As we got to the edge of the property, the officers stopped.
“If you come back, it’s not going to end well for either of you, understand?”
I nodded, intending to leave it at that, but the temptation to be a complete idiot was too obviously much for Roscoe.
“I guess we’ll have to put a pin in our plans to rob the place, huh?” There was an obvious air of sarcasm to his tone, but the cop that knew him furrowed his brows before leaning closer.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a joke, Deputy Donut. Lighten up a little.”
The officer unsheathed the taser and fired it point blank into Roscoe’s abdomen. He yelped, dropping the bags before collapsing onto the ground.
“Whoa! You can’t just shoot people like that!” I shouted, and the officer turned his attention to me.
