Rose Bridges

Forty nine

Romero

I stare at the fan in the corner of the room.

The dust lining it.

The sound of it spitting out hot air.

My leg taps underneath the table as I sit in this empty gray-cinder block room.

I don't know how long I've been here.

I don't even have my fucking phone on me.

And I don't know how long I've been staring at this table, lost in my mind.

So this is it huh.

I'm done.

C'mon Romero, you always knew it'd come down to this.

But you don't care about yourself, right? You've said it your fuckin' self how as long as your family is good it doesn't matter what happens to you, right?

"Shit," I sigh to myself as I rub my forehead.

The door opening makes me sit up.

The black officer looks at me boredly before opening the door up more.

He closes it behind him and sits across from me with a manila folder in hand.

Sliding the folder in front of me, he opens it to show surveillance camera pictures.

My mouth dries.

I look up and meet his eyes that are looking at me with a quirked brow.

"I don't know nothin' about that," I state plainly, leaning back in my seat.

"So, this ain't you?" he asks while sliding a specific zoomed-in-surveillance picture of James and I standing in a white room in a white doorway.

You can't really see my face because of the way I was facing, but you can see James's very clearly.

It's pictures of us in a room with a bunch of other guys and-

Wait.

Alexander's house. The room with the pool-ball table.

I have to bite my tongue to stop me from cursing.

"That ain't me," I say, knowing damn well that's fucking me.

He hums and I don't miss the roll to his eyes.

Leaning over, he grabs a remote and looks to the mini TV in the room.

My heart drops to my feet when I see a video of James and I walking into the house, and then another video of us with the the other guys in the room.

Who the fuck keeps cameras in their house?!

It's silent as we listen to the entire conversation, clearly talking about the deal, our voices clear.

"I don't know why you're showin' me this, that isn't me," I tell him as I gesture to the screen.

He pauses the TV and zooms forward.

My face falls at a perfectly clear picture of my face, looking at Alexander like I want to kill him.

Fuck.

Yeah I'm fucking screwed.

He's silent as he turns back towards me. Sighing, he leans back with a knowing look on his face.

"You goin' be held at the county jail down the road until your sentencing which will as soon as possible."

I sit back and stare at him crossed arms as I chew my cheek and think.