Chase The Night | Reservoir Dogs

v. Hotbox

Sandy puffed out a short cackle. "Bullshit."

He held his hand over his chest in feigned offense. "What are you insinuating, Sandra? That someone as jacked as me couldn't easily make captain?"

This made her giggle as she switched lanes, passing a slow-moving sedan that idled in the middle of the road. "Shut the fuck up. You were a baseball kid."

"How'd you know that?" He tilted his head at her, slightly impressed before he gestured at the upcoming stoplight. "Turn left up here."

"I dunno, you just look like one."

"I look like a baseball kid," he repeated, nodding as he tried to understand.

"No," she said flatly. "You look like a baseball."

Freddy chuckled and blew a thick line of smoke at her face in retaliation, prompting her to snatch the joint from his hand. She turned the corner swiftly, not bothering to look across the intersection first.

"Seriously though, dude. God just, like, came down from wherever the fuck he's hiding and whispered it to me."

This earned her a comical squint from Freddy as she took a brief hit.

"Do you know God?" she asked earnestly. "You should talk to him, he's a good friend of mine." She slowed as the car approached a neighborhood stop sign.

"Did God make you work at Claire's when you were fifteen?"

Sandy shrugged dramatically. "I don't know, let's ask him." She knocked on the frame of the driver's side window and looked up; his eyes soon followed hers.

"God?" Freddy called. "You there?"

They both waited in silence momentarily with no answer. "Shit!" she laughed, throwing her hands up in disappointment, "no one's home!"

She pointed to the sky--or the roof of the car, rather--as Freddy cackled. "Catch you later, big man," she concluded to herself, smiling contently before ashing the joint and handing it over the console.

It was now that she became aware of the ring on his finger, the metallic glint of it flashing under the street lights.

"Ah. See you're a married man." She eased on the gas again, driving her front tire through a puddle.

"Oh, this thing?" Freddy paused to take a hit and fiddled with the band on his finger. "Nah, it was my grandpa's. It's from Belgium."

She raised an eyebrow in suspicion as he exhaled. "Really?"

"I'm serious. This thing's been through the second world war. Hey," he nodded towards the windshield and she looked up from his hand. "Eyes on the road."

Sandy smirked and took the last of the spliff from between his fingers as she turned to face forward. She sucked in hard and started to roll down the window, the roach crackling as she did. Freddy stared as she flicked the empty filter out the window and milky smoke rolled endlessly from her mouth.

"Jesus Christ," he chuckled and rolled his own window down, the clouds of smoke from inside the car dispersing into the night air. "You have lungs of fucking steel."