Snitch

Staring down a hardened, lined face, I growl. Uncaring brown eyes blink back, lips curling into a snarl.

"I'm doing you a favor, kid. If not for me, you'd be in the god damn slammer."

I scoff. "No, I think I’m doing you a favor, Lt. Michealson. You want these guys off the fucking street? Then listen to me. These guys will be shot before they nark on anyone. Bullets are now ineffective, got me? I'll tell you where they are, you keep me alive and out of jail and you get the big reward."

The lieutenant stares me down, sizing me up. Finally he snorts, his hand gripping my upper arm. I hiss, trying to pry his thick, stubby fingers off me.

"You were better off in jail, kid. I'm not saving your ass if there's a fire fight. Now, where the hell do we go?"

"1501 X Street, South O."

Michealson laughs. "X Street, South O. Really? Typical." He shakes his head. "Fine. We're leaving in an hour. Don't do anything stupid when we get there."

Don't worry, Michelson, I hate you, too. "I'll be good. Promise."

I settle into an outdated chair at his desk, as he waddles off. When I'm alone, I pull out my phone. One text to Aaron Brells and I'm either dead or off to jail. 'They're coming in an hour.'
Pocketing the phone, I light up a cigarette. Sorry, Michelson, but I’m not going to rat out my boys that easily.

Notes

Welcome. Snitch is a collection of Flash Fiction pieces I compose for #ThursThreads and #FlashMobWrites. Please visit Aightball's Nook for more information on my writing.