The camera flashes again, and my thoughts shift to my dad. His mugshot. I remember seeing it, thinking what a loser he was. Now, here I am, and I can’t believe I’m following in his footsteps.
Another flash, then we’re done.
“This way, please,” the officer says, and we move on to fingerprinting.
All eyes are on me as I’m led back through the station in damp clothes. Every second of this has been humbling. Most of the cops are fans, but that’s not a flex. Not under these circumstances. I want to fucking disappear, actually. But it’s hard to blend in at six-four, two-hundred-thirty pounds, so I grit my teeth and bear it.
“Rough night, man?” one asks in passing.
My only response is a tight half-smile.
I hate this shit.
It’s a relief when I’m taken to a holding cell. I feel less like a spectacle, just a regular, run-of-the-mill dumbass again.
I lower to the bench, and my head falls back against the painted brick. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, and time passes in slow motion, punctuated by the occasional laugh from down the hall, fragments of conversations as officers pass by. In between, the sound of the clock ticking across from the cell drives me insane.
By the time someone returns, three hours have passed.
“Good news, Golden. Your bail’s being covered. Mr. Ruiz is here for you.”
I’m slow to my feet, because I know this isn’t the worst of it. There’s still the small task of facing my wife.
We stop at a counter, and I glance at the paperwork.
“Couple things,” the officer says. “There aren’t any charges being brought against you, but you’re not to have any contact with Mr. Groves. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I sigh.
He nods. “Good, then I just need you to initial here and here, then sign and date here.”
I add my name where he points. Then, my phone, keys, and wallet are slid to me from across the counter. As soon as my phone’s in my hand it vibrates almost constantly, which means I’m right about the story going viral, and my name officially being shit in this city.
I’m escorted to the lobby, and the second the automatic doors open, cool night air hits my skin.
“Have a good night,” the officer says. I nod but don’t say anything, because my heads all over the place as I wait underneath the awning.
Ricky pulls up a few seconds later, and I can’t believe I actually have mixed feelings about getting out of here so quickly. Another day or two and I might’ve stood a chance of Blue’s anger dying down, but no way she’s calm after just a few hours.
The interior light pops on when I open the passenger side door, and Ricky looks me over. Maybe looking for injuries. Maybe just wondering what the hell I was thinking.
That makes two of us.
“You good?” he asks, and I nod as I climb in and slam the door behind me.
“Thanks for bail. I’ll send it back to your account first thing in the morning. Well,laterthis morning,” I add after glancing down at the clock.
He waves me off. “I don’t care about that shit. You’ve got enough going on.”
My head falls back against the seat as I let myself feel it. The weight of what I’ve done. “Fuck my life.”
Ricky laughs quietly. “Yeah, well, just wait until you hear what your wife has to say about it.”
“You talked to her?”
“Briefly. Didn’t want her first hearing about what happened from Pandora, so I called.”
I’m scared to ask how pissed she is.
