Here Comes Trouble (Nothing Special #3)(2)

“What’cha guys got there?” Michaels’ eyebrows rose up in question when he looked at the disheveled junkie that was trying to ease around Green’s truck until Ruxs pushed him back against the side of the building.

“You better go, Michaels.” Green looked at him seriously. There was no way he was going to talk to their informant using their not so professional tactics in front of another officer.

Michaels’ blue eyes cast down as he fidgeted with his fingers. “Uhh. Yeah okay. Hey Green, did you get to talk to God about any openings he may have coming up on the task force soon?”

Green suppressed his sigh. There was no way Michaels would make it on their task force. The guy was too nice and too easy going. He didn’t have a harsh or cruel bone in him. You had to have pretty tough skin to take what their lieutenants dished out… daily.

Green could see his partner gearing up to say exactly what he’d been thinking but spoke up before Ruxs could crush the handsome guy. “Not yet. I’ll talk to him real soon, okay.”

Michaels beamed a megawatt smile and walked quickly back to his squad car. Green noticed how tight Michaels’ uniform was over his thighs and ass. He chuckled to himself and shook his head sadly as Michaels gave him a friendly wave, his uniform sleeves practically cutting off circulation to his large biceps. He was just like so many others officers on the Atlanta police force. Wanted to work for God and Day.

“Why are you stringing him along? You know damn well he ain’t getting in.” Ruxs took off his black leather coat and tossed it inside the open passenger side window after he’d handcuffed their informant to the Dumpster.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll tell him. But he’s like a loyal dog. I mean, who would kick a golden retriever?” Green smiled at his partner who in turn gave him a look that said…

“What the fuck? Stop being an idiot. Tell the guy he ain’t got it and move on. Besides he’s always running errands for you and getting you coffee and shit. That’s fucked up to do that, man.”

Green opened his mouth in mock confusion. “I don’t ask him to do those things.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

Green shrugged. “Sure whatever.” And turned his attention back to their informant. As soon as Green leveled his hard, dark brown eyes on him, he immediately got defensive.

“I swear I don’t know nothing, Detective Green,” the man whined sadly.

“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t ask you no motherfuckin’ questions,” Green said back calmly. “You lying to me already, Tommy?”

The man was shaking his head no before Green could even finish. Ruxs stood by with a slight smile playing on his mouth as he watched him. Sometimes he felt like Ruxs loved this part a little too much, just sitting back and watching Green work. Their only job was to secure intel and suspects for their lieutenants. Squeeze information out of people. Bring in whoever needed to be questioned. Arrest suspects. Basically they were God and Day’s muscle, and they were damn good at it.

Green squatted in front of their informant, eyeing him carefully. His dingy clothes were hanging off his straggly frame and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed for days. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. The fucker was high. He wouldn’t be good for shit right now.

“Tommy. Tommy listen to me. Why’d you feed us that bullshit about the meth lab in East Point?”

“I didn’t —”

“Shut the fuck up.” Green cut him off, his voice at that low frightening timbre he used on suspects. A voice that sounded like he was so pissed off, he was too angry to yell. “Yes, you did. You gave us some straight bullshit. There were no real players in there. We got two lousy fuckin’ bags. What the hell are we supposed to do with that?”

“I been in there myself. There be some high rollers in there, Detective Green. I swear it.”

Green stood slowly. “You’re still lying. Someone got to you. Who?”

“Nope. No one. I said I’d help you guys.”

Green was done. This guy had been flipped. He was no use to them now. “Well it was nice doing business with you Tommy. But your services are no longer needed.” Green stepped closer and draped his arm around Tommy’s neck. He pulled out his wallet and held his badge up with one hand and gave a thumbs up with the one around Tommy. “Smile.”

“What?”

As soon as Tommy turned his head back to Ruxs he snapped a picture of their pose with his cell phone. Green pushed Tommy away from him. “Now. We’ll print out a few of these and post them around East Point, all the way up Church Street. Let a few of the fellas see who Tommy’s been hanging with.”

“You guys trying to get me fuckin’ killed man?” Tommy yelled, pulling at the cuffs like they’d actually budge.

“I don’t give a damn,” Ruxs chimed in.

“Come on man. Don’t do this. I gave y’all good info. It ain’t my fault you guys fucked it up,” Tommy argued.

“Oh. So now we’re the fuck-ups. I see.” Green rubbed at his neatly trimmed goatee. “Let’s go tell God how he fucked up that bust.”

Ruxs quickly undid the cuffs and grabbed Tommy around his frail forearm. The man shook his head so hard, spittle landed on each of his cheeks. “No. No. No. Fuck no. I don’t. I don’t want to talk to God.” Tommy looked like he was about to shit himself.