How a decade had passed, Kyle couldn’t begin to fathom. But just like that, another ten years had gone by. Now he had spent more of his life as Ryka’s host than not. And that wasn’t a bad thing.
They had already seen so much of the world together, been to exotic places Kyle had never imagined he’d be able to visit. Homesickness caught up to him, though. Or maybe it was the desire for genuine, greasy American food. It had been so long since he’d had real pizza …. Either way, he deemed it safe enough to return to the U.S., as long as they carefully avoided all the places he might run into someone he once knew.
A biker bar in the middle of the country seemed a safe bet. As far as pizza went, not the best choice, but he certainly wasn’t going to see any familiar faces. Though he did wonder if one might have been helpful, just as a witness. Because where Kyle went, trouble followed, but he hadn’t anticipated this.
It was - without a doubt – a case of mistaken identity. Yes, Kyle knew that he was very drunk. Even if he hadn’t known that himself, Ryka had told him so on several occasions. And yes, he had been in the bar when it happened. But he definitely hadn’t been the one to start the fight.
In fact, he had been trying to leave. Pizza notwithstanding, there was a very contentious football game on, and conversations were starting to get heated. Not helping was the fact that Kyle, drunk as he was, was probably still one of the least inebriated people in the room. So, in the hopes of avoiding a brawl, he had called for a cab.
But one of the downsides of consuming so much liquid was that it had to come out again. Anticipating that at some point on the ride back to the hotel he was probably going to be on the verge of pissing himself, he had taken the initiative. The cab was five minutes out, so he had plenty of time to use the men’s room before it showed up.
Things had been getting loud and angry when he headed into the restroom. And apparently, in the short time he was there, loud and angry had escalated to violent. In fact, he had stepped out of the bathroom and directly into someone’s fist.
Ryka had been too busy laughing to be angry, even though Kyle had wound up with a bloody nose. Now desperate to get out before he, and then Ryka, got fully dragged into this, Kyle ducked under a plethora of swinging arms and staggered toward the exit. He was nearly there when a half dozen police officers burst into the room. Unfortunately, being so close to the door, he was one of the first people they grabbed.
Eyes wide, he mentally pleaded with Ryka to stay calm. The demon was still in hysterics, so he was ignored. Which was exactly what he was doing to the officer shoving him along.
Now handcuffed, he was led outside, where he saw his cab pull up, then quickly drive away again. Cursing under his breath, he let the officer – who was nearly a foot shorter than him, to Kyle’s amusement – direct him to the nearest squad car. It took no little effort, but Kyle managed to duck inside without hitting his head.
“Sir, do you know why you’ve been detained?”
Kyle could hardly see straight, so he didn’t envision this conversation going well. “I’m drunk?” he guessed, his words heavily slurred.
“Well, that may be the case, but that’s not illegal in and of itself. Care to try again?”
“I got mixed up in that?” he offered with a nod to the bar, where three more men were being led out in cuffs.
“Closer. One of the bartenders said you started all that.”
Say what now?
Kyle tried very hard not to react. But then again, he was drunk. “Absolutely fucking not,” he explained, probably a little too loudly. “I was in the bathroom, came out and got punched in the face.” Currently, his nose was still bleeding, though it had slowed to a trickle. “I was trying to leave before something like that happened.”
The officer sighed and shrugged. “Well, someone that matched your description threw the first punch, and you were trying to sneak out when we arrived.”
“I swear it wasn’t me. It’s a biker bar, half the guys in there look like this.” “This” was tall, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, with dark hair cut on the longer side and a generally menacing aura. Though Kyle owed the latter strictly to his passenger. The officer seemed to agree with his assessment, though, so Kyle continued. “I was trying to sneak out so I didn’t get hit again.”
“I’m sure there’s security footage we can check. In the meantime, since you are, as you said, drunk, we’ll let you sober up with us back at the station.”
Groaning, Kyle leaned back on the hard, plastic seat. Being trapped in a small cell with the other drunks was not how he had wanted to end this evening. Especially now that Ryka no longer seemed amused by the proceedings.
Once more, he begged his other half to control himself. Hopefully, this would only be a temporary hiccup.
***
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Although worrying had sobered him up a bit – and that fist to the face had done wonders – Kyle was still heavily under the influence when they arrived at the police station. Being crammed in the back of a cruiser had made his legs cramp, so he was even more wobbly than he had been at the bar. But he managed to maintain some dignity and make it to the cell with only minimal support. Frankly, he wasn’t sure the officer would have been able to help him much, anyhow.
To Kyle’s dismay, there were already seven other men in the drunk tank, in various states of inebriation. All were sprawled out to some degree on the plastic benches, and most looked up as Kyle was shown in. His handcuffs were removed, and he swayed in place, rubbing his wrists while Ryka assessed their new comrades.
Do you want to get out of here quick? Or wait it out?
The second one, Kyle thought. He could only imagine the bloodbath that would result if he chose the first option.
If you say so. Let me know if you change your mind.
Apparently, the only major concerns he had were Kyle’s comfort and the fact that he was missing out on a chance to take advantage of his more-than-tipsy host. Because his attention didn’t linger on any of the other men for more than a few seconds, indicating he didn’t see any of them as threats to Kyle’s safety. Or as potential prey.
“Sit?” one of the men asked, sliding over on his bench and motioning at the now empty spot to his left. Kyle nodded – which made his head spin – and dropped onto the seat.
He had a feeling Ryka would have been disappointed even if Kyle hadn’t found himself in jail. He had passed right through the horny stage of drunk and into the sleepy stage. This wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the room he was still paying for at the hotel, but it would have to do. With a yawn, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, nodding off only a moment later.
***
“Sir?”
Groaning, Kyle squeezed his eyes closed and tried to bury his face deeper into the crook of his elbow. He wasn’t hungover, but he was sore and tired. Somehow, he had slept, and fairly well. He only knew this because he made his contract with Ryka at least twice.
Also, he had apparently wound up hogging the bench, as he was now alone on it, stretched out across its entirety. It was extremely uncomfortable, but those aches were fading quickly, thanks to some demonic assistance.
“Sir?”
He briefly wondered who this “Sir” was that was refusing to answer. Regardless, he was awake now, and struggled to sitting. Still somewhat groggy, he opened his eyes, and was met instantly with the horrified stares of the seven other men he had been bunking with.
“You’re up?” The voice was coming from the hall, and Kyle finally realized it was meant for him.
“Uh, yeah,” he answered. He stretched, and at least four of the men flinched. They weren’t making direct eye contact, but also refused to take their eyes off him.
“If you’re feeling better, you’re free to go. The security footage cleared you.”
This was excellent news. Not just for Kyle, but for whoever would have tried to imprison him should the footage have indicated otherwise.
“I’m good.” There was still dried blood on his face, he could feel it, but he was stone-cold sober and eager to get the Hell away from this police station. He stood, stretching again, and started for the door. The officer motioned for a few of the other men to get up as well, but they remained glued to their seats, still staring terrified at Kyle.
He knew he’d been asleep, and he also knew he hadn’t been so far gone that he would have forgotten loosing Ryka on a cell full of unfortunate drunks. But this wasn’t the time or place to question Ryka on exactly why these strangers were so scared of him.
Not inclined to wait for the others, Kyle followed after the officer. He had never been booked, so there was nothing to do but call for a cab and leave.
Two of the other men passed him while he waited on the curb. He tried to ask if they wanted to share the taxi, but one took off at a sprint as soon as he opened his mouth, and the other backed away, making the sign of the cross before turning and running.
“What did you do?” Kyle asked, once both were out of earshot. Now was an acceptable moment for interrogation.
Just gave them a warning.
“How? I was asleep, right?”
You were. Well, you actually passed out for a while. Lush. Kyle ignored the insult. I took advantage and let them know you were not to be fucked with.
“Ryka ….”
Oh, you want details? Fine. Out of what appeared to be a dead sleep, you sat up, opened your eyes – which may have been a bit red, and I don’t mean bloodshot – and told them-
“You mean you told them.”
Right. I told them if they even thought of touching you, that we’d find out how many of those cell bars each of them could fit up their ass.
With a sigh, Kyle shook his head. “So they think I’m possessed?”
They wouldn’t be wrong, would they?
“No, but that’s not the point. What happened to laying low?”
You’re the one that got picked up by the cops for being drunk.
“That was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
You haven’t figured out that’s the only place you ever end up? It was hard to argue. And don’t worry – there’s no security footage of that. Which meant Kyle could add tampering with police equipment to their growing list of crimes.
“Still ….”
I needed a snack, and they were easy targets.
“I suppose. You could have done much worse.” Not that he wanted to encourage this kind of behavior, but it really was the least horrible thing Ryka could have done.
That’s right. Now, since last night was a waste, grab some food back at the hotel – you’ve got a long day ahead of you. Once you’ve eaten, it’s right to bed.
Kyle was very much on board with that plan. “What about you? Want me to grab you something to eat?”
Just in time, the cab driver pulled up to see Kyle blush crimson at Ryka’s response. The only eating out I want to do is your ass.
“Oh.”
Mm hmm. Now hurry up; I’m hungry.