Bad-Ass (Louis Tomlinson)

Ch. 2

Ch. 2

Mickey's POV.

I wrapped my fingers around the cold, and familiar rusty bars. The chains around my wrists, restricting some of my movement. The lights flickering just the slightest. A bead of sweat dripped from my forehead, slipping down to my chin, falling to the decaying cement floors. The temperature was warm from the few, but anxious body’s around me.

“Parker.” A big burly man said sternly. He walked towards me with no emotion on his face- probably mad to see me again. 

“I’m very flattered, but Please Officer McKinley, call me Mickey.” I smirked with no regret.

“Don’t be smart with me Parker.” Officer McKinley spat with the same sternness, but more attitude. He came up to the cell, dangling keys between his fingers. The sudden movement catching my cellmates attention around me. I flashed them a friendly smile, knowing this won’t be our last encounter.

Officer McKinley opened the cell door just enough for me to slip out. “you get one phone call. Five minutes. Make it useful.” He dropped a shiny coin in the palm of my clammy hand. Smiling gratefully, I made my way towards one of the few payphones hanging on the wall.

Slipping the only thing that can get my sorry-ass out of here into the payphone, I dialed the only familiar number. The phone rang a good six times before I heard another stern voice. The stern voice this time, came from the phone. The voice belonging to my one trust worthy friend. Brandon.

“What now?” 

“Some one woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.” I encountered.

“Or, maybe it’s the fact I never even got the chance to wake up this morning.”

“Whatever Bran. How did you know it was me anyways?”

“Oh come on Mickey. I basically have this number implanted in my brain. What did you do to get you in the slammer this time Mick?” I could tell by the heavy tone in Brandon’s voice, he isn’t happy with me at all. I mean, I do always call him when I get in here. He is the only one I have to call.

“I.. I kind of ran out of my cigarettes. I.. needed them. I-I didn’t know wha-how else to get them. You know how I get without them… depressed… anxious… I.. I can’t help myself.” I spoke with guilt dripping from every word. I took a glance toward officer McKinley. He was starring; listening to every word I said. His Stern look burning through my soul. His eyes also held a little tint of sympathy.

“Mick... You should have called me. I.. we could have went to the store. I would have paid. You.. You know you aren’t old enough. I- I understand your situation though.” I looked down to the floor, somewhat ashamed. “Maybe you should get some help… I went through the same thing remember? Couldn’t let go of my drugs. I know this guy who-”

“What ever.” I cut Brandon off before he could finish. “Are you coming or what? This stupid junk only gives me 5 minutes.” Now I was the one giving the attitude. No one ever tells me what to do.

“Fine… I’ll be there in a minute… just… try not to tick the pigs off too much while I’m on my way.” Brandon said with a flat, but hint of playful tone in his voice. I took another glance towards the officer that was planted behind a desk. From the look of his annoyed features, it seems he heard Brandon. I just chuckled and looked away again.

“Yeah.. Right Bran.. See ya.” I hung up the phone with a smirk set on my face. I turned towards officer McKinley again. He still had an annoyed look on his face. I flashed a grin towards him as I took the seat right next to his desk. He grumbled towards me, knowing what’s coming next.

“So. Officer.” I swung my head in his direction, making my hair fly through the muggy air. “how are you on this fine night? Are you having fun eating your donuts and drinking coffee? Next time you go to Dunkin Donuts, you should get me some. My favorite donut is Boston Crème. You know the one with the-” 

“I know what a Boston Crème donut is.” McKinley cut me off.

“Well of course you do. That stomach has it tattooed right across it next to you mom tattoo.” I smiled brightly towards the ticked off man.

“You do realize offending an official Police officer is an offense which can get you more cell time?”

“Yeah I do actually realize that… but then again, would you really want to keep me here? Spending the whole night with me.” Officer McKinley growled at me. His face was bright red from the anger I was causing him. Oh.. He’s angry? That’s so sad.. To bad I don’t care.

“When is Brandon coming to pick you up?” was the only thing he replied, tired of my antics.

“Hey how did you know Brandon was picking me up? Were you stalking me? Officer McKinley! Stalking is an offense and can get you jail time!” 

“Parker. You come here so much, the whole police department knows you. We also know that you always call Brandon Malone to come pick you up each time. Now when is that boy going to be here? I’ve had enough of your stupid remarks.” as soon as McKinley finished giving his mini speech, a police officer walked through the squeaky doors. Behind the police officer was a boy about six foot. He was slim, yet buff. I can tell it was Brandon by his messy bed-head hair that was sloppily thrown into a quiff.

“Bran! Good to see you buddy!” I smiled brightly towards the tired looking boy.

“yeah.. You too Mick.” Brandon replied with sarcasm. 

“Brandon Malone has signed all of the release forms, and paid Micayla Parker’s fine. She may now leave with Mr. Malone.” the police officer who brought Brandon in said.

“Aw. Already? But me and McKinley here were just chatting up a storm! Oh well. See ya soon!” I smirked.

“That is Officer McKinley to you.” he sternly said.

“Yeah. What ever McKinley.” Brandon roughly grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the door and away from the officers. He smiled to the passing cops knowing them as well as I do. When he smiles towards them, they all smile back; happy he isn’t involved with the wrong people anymore. Brandon went to the front desk. and asked politely for my phone. Once he got it, he thanked the receptionist politely and put it in my leather jacket pocket. 

As we walked outside, I inhaled the fresh night air deeply. Still holding my hand, we made our way towards Brandon’s lifted 2010 Dodge truck. Letting go of my hand, he opened the car door for me, and lifted me by the waist to my seat like a gentlemen. I smiled gratefully as he shut my door. He made his way to the driver’s side and jumped in. We sat there for a few minutes with Brandon’s forehead laying on the steering wheel. I sat there playing with my thumbs nervously, waiting for him to scold me. Surprisingly, he did otherwise.

“Are you hungry?” Brandon asked without lifting his head to face me. By the tone of his voice you could tell he was worn out and tired. I took my cracked Iphone out of my pocket to glance at the time. Even though it was around 3:30 A.M., I was still hungry. Probably from all the running I did earlier.

“Kind of.” my voice was barely above a whisper.

“How does McDonalds sound? I’m kind of craving a Big Mac.” I looked away from my mesmerizing phone screen, to look at Brandon. He was looking at me with a cheeky smile on his face. I couldn’t hide the smile that was on my face either.

“Damn Brandon! You’re so fat! Who eats a Big Mac at 3:30 in the morning?” I laughed

“Actually, it’s 3:49 in the morning.” Brandon retorted trying to sound smart.

“Ha ha. What ever smart-ass. I’m not going to lie… I’m kind of craving a McDouble.”

“Ha! See! I’m not the only fat-ass!”

For the car ride to McDonalds, Brandon and I joked around. We sang to the radio as loud as we could, and yelled out the window to the stoners walking by. It’s almost as if tonight’s events never happened.

Which I am very grateful of.