Brutal

Brutal

Copyright ©
2014 K.S Adkins

Published by K.S Adkins

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Published: Kel Adkins 2014

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Editing: Lindsey

Proofreading: Kyra

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For Jane

“
D
id you really just pull my fucking hair?”

He did, he totally went bitch and pulled my fucking hair. For that he took a knee to his kidney, twice. “You’re forcing my hand here, asshole. I warned you to fight fair but, oh well this works too.”

You would think a cop would be above pulling hair and slapping; clearly they need to step up their training, so for slapping me, I tazed him right in the ass. Watching him go down, I continue. “Although, when I think of you in County, with the general population? I don’t know, man; it just does something for me, yeah? I think with your skin tone, prison orange will look great on you. Oh, and that ass… That ass will get you passed around like Grandma's spiral ham at Thanksgiving dinner.”

I couldn’t stop my smile if I tried. I say this, because the city will now have one less dirty cop, and that’s a perfect reason to flash my pearly whites. Well, that plus the visual running through my head. He’s a total dickhead, but I’ll give him props, he does have a stellar ass.

“Fuck you, bitch,” he spits.

“Bitch isn’t an insult, you idiot. Now…I need you to stay very still for a moment, alright? Otherwise, I’m going to zap your ball sack this time, and that’s sixty seconds of your life you’ll never get back.”

 See? I’m a lady when the situation calls for it. Polite, even. Just don’t pull my damn hair!

I tighten the zip ties just that much tighter because…well, I can. Just as I predicted, here comes the real struggle. They
always
try to make a last stand. This one knows he’s lost (and to a female, no less) but needs to give it one last go. He kicks me in the shin, really fucking hard, and I go down. He also managed to grab hold of my pony tail, again. Okay, yeah, that hurt like a bitch. I suppose I should have guessed that a man who beats up on women knows where to aim his blows, but when a woman fights back? She knows where to land hers, too, and that would be everywhere.

“I-I-I’ll kill-you, then
her,
” he wheezes, after I bitch slapped his junk with a closed fist, forcing him to release my hair.

He fucked with my best friend, which I will not tolerate. Macy is a lot of things; a bad ass is one of them. But she didn’t go into this relationship asking for a beat down, and wasn’t expecting one either. Being a cop doesn’t give you the right to hurt people, especially when you’ve taken a vow to protect them. I’ll give him credit, he doesn’t give up. He’s flailing around like a fish out of water now, because both hands are tied behind his back and also his giant ankles. 

“You won’t. Not today,” I calmly state. I fish out the hypodermic and my prepaid mobile, because in my life the two are mutually exclusive.

The moment real fear creeps in, he begins pleading. He’ll do anything; give me anything, blah blah blah. I roll my eyes, check my nails, and then take a step forward and get back to business. Looking him in the eyes, which are kinda bulgy right now due to his struggle, I give him a very sound piece of advice that I hope he doesn’t follow

“Should you find yourself on the outside, watch your fucking back, yeah? I catch you looking at her, I’ll slit your throat. If you so much as mention her name, I’ll slit your throat. See where this is going? So, test me, Briggs. If you manage to get out, I’ll find you, you know I will and you have my word I’ll make it slow and I’ll make it memorable. Remember me when you’re getting fucked, remember me when you’re afraid to sleep, remember I’m the one who put you there. Me. Remember that, because I really want to slit your throat, Briggs. If you remember anything, remember
that.
” I totally stab him in the neck with it, and then push the plunge with force dosing him with
‘the special sauce’
from Macy, watching him crash.

Enjoy the ride, traitor, I think to myself. Because, in about two hours, when you wake up? Your own are about to finally turn on you. Yeah, that’s right, fucker, that juice in your veins was created for monsters like you. No, seriously, ask your ex-girlfriend. Now, I’ve got a call to make.

A voice answers on the second ring. “5
^th
precinct, Officer Daniels”

“Corner of Griswold and Lafeyette, Officer Jacob Briggs has been a total dick. He’s a filthy cop, an abuser, and has been…well, let’s just go with detained for assault. I suggest the next time someone calls
four times
for help, you fucking listen. Briggs is out awaiting pick up. You have seven minutes before I let the bangers have him.”

 “Who is this?”

“Good Samaritan,” I say, and disconnect. I wait.

Four minutes, thirty seconds have passed and still none of Detroit’s finest have shown up. Color me unsurprised. At exactly six minutes forty seconds I hear it. Whaddya know? Their time is improving. I sashay over to Briggs to give him one last look, and a swift kick to his pretty face. Yep he’s still out. For once, I had hoped they’d be late; I really wanted to let the gang bangers have a go at this piece of shit, but oh, well. I lean in and whisper words he’ll never hear, and then slip the pre-paid mobile with his audio confession into his front pocket.

“Who’s the bitch now?” I look at my watch, tie my hair back and head west to work.

Who am I, you’re asking yourself. My name is Venessa Cross, and I fight for those who can’t.

Here’s why: Moments ago, I just had a full on fight with a man on a city street, in broad daylight, and not one fuck was given. He was left trussed up on the sidewalk, yet no one stopped to assist, figuring they have their own problems they kept moving. No one follows the rules here. Instead, rules are treated as options.

Around here? People use rules like they use everything else; if and when they feel like it.  There’s no law, no justice. Look at our boy Briggs, over there; he’s a cop. He’s supposed to be a good guy, right? He was supposed to uphold the law and follow the rules. Our very own Police Department can’t help the citizens they are charged with protecting. So here, when there’s trouble? We depend on ourselves. You can call the police, but you’ll be dead before they show. 

These days, the cops are the cleanup crew, not your first line of defense. They couldn’t save my family, and they can’t save yours. Detroit needs a wakeup call, and I’m the alarm. That is, if they woke up to hear it. I live in the shadows, ever watching. You never want to get a visit from me. Because if we do meet, you won’t remember it until it’s too late.

 My name is Venessa Cross, thanks for asking. I am justice.