Episode 54| A Ruse

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Bryce's P.O.V.

Call me dumb, call me reckless. Use any word you want on me to paint me as the villain for wanting to get back at Grayson for what he did to us. Nothing, not even wise advice from someone I trusted, could've made me stop.

He deserved every ounce of pain I was willing to inflict on him. Going under our radar, he deceived us all and put our lives in jeopardy. All of our lives could've ended that day.

Driving to the exact location Anthony and Ernie gave me, I made sure to use a street that didn't directly drive past the restaurant. Getting spotted would blow my cover, ruining my plan entirely.

I had my phone on me when I drove up to the spot, dialing up Anthony's cell as I turned the car off and took off my seatbelt. I skipped a greeting and was straightforward. "I'm here. Did he leave?"

"No, he's still here." Anthony replied. "Ernie and I are near the side entrance. Listen, change of plans. I don't think going in is a good idea."

"I wasn't going to enter the place anyway. That would be pointless." Grayson would lock eyes with me and flee to the nearest exit if I just ran in here, looking like a brainless fool. "I was going to wait for him to get out."

"No, you don't get it, Bryce. That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"There's cops all over this place. Ernie and I got a chance to walk close to the restaurant."

"And what? What did you see?"

"He's talking to the cops."

I lost my grip on the phone, dropping it. I quickly brought it back to my ear. "You...you don't think he's...an informant, do you?"

"Maybe. Man, I don't know. But something doesn't feel right about this." Anthony said huskily. "I say we should leave before things get ugly."

"You're right." I agreed wholeheartedly. "I'll see you back at the apartment, okay?"

"Okay."

We shared a farewell and hung up. Putting my phone away and setting it on the passenger's side of the car, I buckled myself back into my seat. Just when I was about to turn the car back on, I heard a tap on my window.

Checking to see who it was, I saw a man in a cop uniform leaning toward my car, gesturing for me to roll down the windows. He had a badge and a name tag, shimmering in the sunlight. I did as he asked and rolled my window down. I wasn't in the parking lot of the restaurant.

I had lazily slid into a street parking spot. Since I hadn't left the car yet, the meter wasn't paid yet. It blinked an annoying bright red light, waiting to be fed quarters.

"Hi, Officer," I said smugly, restraining any instinct to come off fearful. "Is there something I did wrong? I was just about to feed the meter."

"I'm not a meter maid." He growled.

"I wasn't saying you were..." I could sense that he took offense to my assumption. I wasn't trying to impose anything on him. He leaped to that conclusion on his own. "Is there something I did wrong?"

"License and registration please."

"I didn't do anything wrong though."

"License and registration," he repeated, harsher. "I'm not going to say it again."

"Oh..kay," I said uneasily. "My registration is in my glove compartment. May I reach over there and get it for you?"

"Sure."

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